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roseykat · 6 months

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KINKTOBER DAY 14

TITLE: Some things are better left unknown

PAIRINGS: Bang Chan x Felix x reader

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

SUMMARY: a threesome with Chanlix where you’re yet to discover a very sobering truth about the pair of them.

TAGS: explicit language, threesome, oral sex (f!reader receiving), porn with plot, use of the name 'baby girl' and 'angel', swearing, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex but protected anal sex, double penetration, big dick!Chan agenda, praise, slight body worship if you squint, kissing/making out.

A/N: Aussie line fucks hard, bye. (If there are mistakes, I will fix them. Currently running on v low sleep)

KINKTOBER23 - MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @mal-lunar-28 @luneskies @queenmea604 @kibs-and-bits @kbitties @aaasia111 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung

Milk, nori, rice, raw tuna, coffee, yoghurt, bread, and eggs.

This was all Chan sent you to the supermarket for. All of which could have been easily picked up from the convenience store down the road. Maybe minus the raw tuna which has to be high grade since Chan wanted to make an attempt at onigiri for the first time. However, you would’ve saved an entire trip to the busy supermarket.

Not to mention, grocery shopping sucks in general. At least that is when you’re on your own. In your apartment that you share with your good friends Chan and Felix, two people are responsible for the shopping per week which rotates each time.

If you’re with Felix, sometimes you both tend to muck around. Not to mention forgetting almost a quarter of things on the shopping list which ends in a stern lecture from Chan. On that matter, if you’re with Chan, it’s an in-and-out task at the store in less than ten minutes.

Efficient and practically timeless.

Even though it’s no trivial matter, you manage to get through the pointless shopping before heading home to the apartment. These could’ve been picked up at the convenience store, you think to yourself again. A sigh leaves your lips as you unlock the door, bumping it open further with your hip as you slide your shoes off.

“I’m back. Remind me to buy an umbrella next time-”

Your body freezes on the spot. The bag of items falls from your possession, collapsing onto the floor. Something inside it broke but it’s nowhere near enough a distraction for what is in front of your eyes.

Maybe you need your vision checked because if your eyes weren’t deceiving you, then you wouldn’t have just seen Chan and a topless Felix who are both making out. The two of them sat on the edge of the bed, still lip-locked until they caught onto your presence.

For the few seconds you stood there, rooted to the ground, felt the absolute longest.

Neither of them was as internally panicked as you when they noticed you standing there. Nor did they have hundreds of questions zapping around their brains in the span of a few seconds. It was like your entire vocabulary had turned to dust and were blown away because there were no words to describe what the hell was happening.

Maybe it was a dream.

“T-That was quick,” Chan stammers with an awkward chuckle, breaking away from Felix, almost pretending like nothing just happened.

Felix looked like a complete mess. Dark brown hair mangled - clearly from Chan either running his fingers through it or tugging it - the air gets stuck in your throat with those two theories in mind, painting very interesting visuals and an odd sensation in your stomach.

Chan looked equally dishevelled. There’s a dark red splotch peeking above his collarbone that you had no trouble guessing how it got there. On top of that, his pants were already half undone, and his lips were bitten red and wet, and they both looked so…so…

“What…the fuck…” you manage to speak once your mind has cleared the only one per cent of its capacity to grasp the circumstances.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Felix quickly says as he stands up from Chan’s lap and walks over to you.

It was useless for him to try to take advantage of your shell-shocked state because once your surprise had completely thawed out, your words started coming back to you.

“Oh my god, what am I even doing?” You ask, clamping your hands over your eyes, ready to head right back out of the apartment. “I’m heading out.”

“Wait!” Chan calls out, arm outstretched towards your direction. “You don’t…you don’t have to go. If you want, you can maybe join us. If…if you like.”

Join them? Blindsided by those words, there was no trouble for the difficulty you had in trying to figure out if you heard right or just imagined what Chan said. Why would he ask you that question? But more importantly, why were they hooking up in the first place? It was evident that there had been something going on between Felix and Chan - unless this was just a new one-time thing.

However, even if it wasn’t, you had been left out of the secret. Nonetheless, you quickly came to your senses. Whether they hook up or not is none of your business.

“J-Join you?” You stammer.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Chan emphasises. “It’d be rude to not let you in on the fun.”

You definitely weren’t hearing things, and this wasn’t a dream.

At first, you can’t understand why you’re even considering their request, but there is one piece of information that sprung to mind and that’s your sex life. It hasn’t been entirely sex-filled as you’d like it to be, not to mention your slight lack of experience with threesomes wasn’t vast - but it also wasn’t limited either, especially after that encounter you once had with two of their friends Changbin and Hyunjin on a separate occasion. Although, they didn’t need to know that at all.

That being said, this takes the cake. You can’t even comprehend what Chan or Felix are like in bed but, the opportunity seemed too ridiculously hot to pass up.

“You...you want me to-“

“Like Channie said, if you want,” Lix assures you, interrupting your babbling.

You aren’t somewhat surprised that Felix would ever want a threesome. He’s had sexual partners here and there in the past, multiple ones at a time. However, Chan never struck you as the type to have sex with more than one person. Even after a year of living with him and getting to know him, he’s still pretty private and exclusive.

With the matter at hand and the more you think about the prospect in front of you, you aren’t opposed to the idea. So with your brain taking full control of your body, you hesitantly step over the discarded groceries lying on the ground. This is happening. Felix picks up on the right cue and extends his hand out to you as you take it gently.

He guides you over to the edge of the bed where Chan is still sitting, but as you’re led over, he rises to his feet. There were a few seconds where you’re a little bit bewildered by what’s going on, but when you look into Chan’s dark eyes and as he takes your free hand, you become more centred.

Before you know it, he leans down to kiss you and kisses you good. You’ve never felt anything like it and as Felix releases your hand and sneaks behind your body, your mind starts turning into jelly. He gently swipes your hair to the other side of your shoulder while his other hand freely roams around your waist, underneath your shirt to feel the heat of your skin. His mouth places chaste kisses from your shoulder up to your neck.

It feels so heavenly to be sandwiched between them; Felix kissing, biting softly over your skin while Chan continues to explore your mouth. It was impossible to think that just a few minutes ago, you were at the grocery store and now a complete world shift just seems to be occurring within that time frame.

Chan breaks away from you for a second, kissing you tenderly one last time before sitting back down on the bed and moving up to the headboard. God this is really happening. You’re too deep in it now to not follow him like a lost, yet obedient puppy. You can see that he’s hard and want to touch him so badly but-

“Sit between me and face towards Felix,” he instructs before you can even reach for him.

Your cheeks burn. While you have no idea what’s entirely in store, your body is getting excited and very obviously, so is Felix. He crawls over to you once you’re snug in between Chan’s legs before he tugs your shirt up from the hem and tosses it aside. Then, he finds your lips and kisses you until you have to silently beg and chase him for it.

Squirming in place, you feel hot and subjugated by Chan sitting behind you - snaking and trailing his hands around your now half-bare body, and Felix in front of him, who’s now gone on to give his supposed man some attention too.

He’s up on his knees with his body so close to you that you can feel the heat from him. Chan tilts his head up from resting on your shoulder and lets Felix take what he wants. The slick wet sounds of them both kissing along with the tiny moans you can feel in your ear, makes you shiver all over. You’re only still comprehending this all, that this is still actually happening.

“So needy,” Chan says as he breaks away from him, inches away from his face when Felix hears and feels you unbuckling his belt. He straightens back up and consumes how flustered you are, observing the way you blink up at him pleadingly, displaying how badly you want it now.

Felix smirks, gently grabbing your face with one hand and lowering down just enough to kiss you senseless again. But he cannot stray away from his other plans so frees himself from your lips to help slide your pants off down and discards them to the side.

Immediately, you can see where this is going.

“Aw, look how bad you want it,” Felix comments, swiping his thumb over the damp spot of your underwear with enough pressure for you to muffle a whine by biting down on your lip. You do want it bad and already seem to be losing a fight to the pleasure Felix is barely giving you.

“Don’t tease her too much,” Chan cautions.

Felix doesn’t seem to hear the warning for him as he helps you shimmy your underwear down. From there, Chan takes over. He hooks both of his legs over yours and separates them to not just expose you for Felix but to hold you down for what’s about to unfold.

Heat accelerates through your cheeks as you feel embarrassed. At this point, your brain hasn’t caught up with the fact that you never show this much skin, let alone any skin in front of either of them. But that was going to be an afterthought for you when Felix distracts your mind by gently prying your legs open from your bent knees.

Pathetic whimpers slip past your lips as Felix lies down on his stomach, his face inches away from your pussy while he pets and glides his two fingers in between your folds.

Your head shoots back onto Chan’s shoulder, very narrowly missing his face, “f-fuck…oh my god.”

Without warning, you feel the tip of Felix’s tongue lap a few times over your clit. If it weren’t for Chan acting as a human restraint to hold you down, there would’ve been a solid chance of you lurching forward. His arms are still wrapped around your abdomen, preventing you from moving forward so that you can take what Felix is giving you.

It’s cruel, but Chan thinks it’s necessary for you to feel everything. Which you do when your hands grip each of Chan’s thighs, nearly squashing him backwards between you and the wall.

“How does it feel?” he asks you.

“F-Felix, mmm-” you breathe out his name, unable to answer properly and feel some vibrations from Chan’s chest to suggest that he was chuckling. Mainly at the fact that you weren’t able to directly answer his question.

But it’s not long until the room quickly fills with your whimpers and moans mingled with the beautiful wet sounds as Felix keeps eating out your pussy. Tingly sensations spread like wildfire throughout every cell in your body from his mouth. It’s gradually becoming impracticable to keep up with his tongue. Not that you’ve ever imagined it before, but he does give good oral, good enough to put your breathing pace out of whack when he sucks on your clit.

He’s not afraid of enjoying himself either. You can hear and feel his moans reverberate throughout your lower half. It even adds to the sensation of bliss that’s forming a knot in the pit of your stomach. So even though you don’t know, this is as good for Felix as it is for you. To him, it’s like going to heaven.

What you also didn’t seem to know was when Chan unclasped your bra from behind your back and placed it to the side. His hands went from just holding you to now groping and playing with your tits as your body continued to melt into Felix’s mouth.

“You’re loud aren’t you?” Chan whispers in your ear, rolling both of your nipples in between his thumbs and fingers to make you mewl and squirm. The different methods of pleasure send interesting messages to your brain that only make that crest of ecstasy build higher.

You can only mewl until coherent words appear in his brain and out through his mouth, “s-sorry.”

Felix’s head game is so ridiculously mind-blowing that it makes you forget what language you speak.

Chan chuckles, purring into your ear, “don’t be sorry. You just can’t help it can you?”

His hand circles up to your jaw, tilting it towards his face. He confirms in his mind how much of a mess you are. Cheeks stained pink with a fucked up expression that reads ‘I need more’, to which Chan reaches down and kisses you, sloppy and lazy.

The velvety feel of your mouth when you open up more is slick with warmth. It’s starting to become more obvious how close you are when you start moaning repeatedly into Chan’s mouth.

“I’m going to fuck you after this,” he breaks away, just inches from his lips again.

You never would’ve guessed that Chan was even capable of forming such a dirty sentence. Then again, you never would’ve guessed that you would ever be in the position that you’re in now - having a threesome with your two housemates.

“I’m…you’re gonna make me cum,” you sob, turning your head towards Chan on his shoulder, almost as if you were trying to escape the expansion of euphoria. He couldn’t help but kiss your forehead, waiting for you to brace for that wave.

“Yeah?” Chan rouses. “Want to cum for us baby girl?”

You nod, too helpless to form an answer when you’re on the cusp of a forceful orgasm. He underestimated the strength he needed to hold you down, especially when you’re about to cum. So just when he needed to add more force, your body stiffens. Your legs so desperately crave to clamp around Felix’s head to help triage the pleasure, but it’s no use when Chan has you completely locked in.

Your eyelids flutter, head pressing back further into Chan’s shoulder, “yes! I’m cumming!”

With ragged, heavy breathing, the all-consuming pleasure takes you by the throat as the pleasure surges without control. Even though you’re being held down, it doesn’t stop your body from quivering. It lasts for what feels like an entire minute – one of the best orgasms you think you’ve ever experienced.

Felix’s tongue slows down to a snail's pace, licking a few final stripes before kissing his way up your body, from your clit, abdomen, and then up to the base of your throat. His chin glistens as he adorns a smug smile.

“Fuck…” you sigh out defeatedly, the aftermath of experiencing a volume of pleasure was starting to take its toll. “Oh my god.”

Chan kisses the side of your head, “sound so beautiful when you cum. Lix, switch with me so I can fuck her, yeah?”

“Wait-“ you pause, trying to reorient yourself as you hold onto Chan’s forearm for support. “I wanna ride you.”

Felix looks down at you, “you sure angel? Channie isn’t exactly small.”

From that statement alone, it was obvious to you that Felix was speaking from experience, a strong indication that they had in fact mucked around at least once in the past if not multiple times. But it didn’t matter if Chan or Felix for that matter was packing twelve inches, you needed to have something inside you to tame that need of feeling full.

“I want to ride you-“ you nod to Chan – “but I want you to fuck me at the same time-“ you indicate towards Felix.

Neither of them expected you to be into that. Then again, they didn’t necessarily expect you to join them in bed either so anything was a surprise to them at this point. Chan and Felix can’t deny how insanely hot it is to hear you not only ask for them to do something but specifically ask you to do that.

“Are you sure baby?” Chan has to ask you for assurance.

“I can…I can take both of you.”

Still stunned at your answer, Felix ushers to Chan, “you heard her.”

He cannot lie and say that he’s not excited, because he is – they both are. So while Felix goes into the bedside table for a condom and lube, you move yourself off of Chan, turn around and start unbuckling his belt and helping him take his jeans off, almost like you’re in a rush. The imprint of his hard dick is enough to make your mouth water, and as Felix said, Chan definitely isn’t small.

“Easy, I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, reorienting himself on the bed so that his head is on the pillow.

Felix returns with the items he needs to help prep you, taking it as a sign to straddle over Chan’s legs and slowly tug his black boxers down. His cock springs onto his abdomen, the dark pink tip reaching just under his belly button. He had to be at least eight inches. Maybe just under, just.

“Ready angel?” Felix asks, kneeling behind you as you straddle Chan. The position would allow you to not only ride Chan but to take Felix from behind too, a dream so delicious that you can’t help but wonder how it was still all possible.

“Yes,” you mutter.

“Okay then,” he replies.

Chan then holds the base of his cock steady for you, watching you slowly take those eight inches. The tip of his dick gently slots into your pussy, taking your time with sinking down. The warm heat engulfs his length, already sending shockwaves throughout his lower half.

“That’s it, baby,” Chan says encouragingly, his fingertips delicately massaging over the skin of your things. “Good girl.”

You bite down on your bottom lip at the extraordinary stretch. In the meantime, Felix squirts a dollop of the lube onto his fingers to warm it up a bit before applying it to your hole.

He thumbs over it, sending shivers up your spine. It’s vital to him to make sure that you’re prepped well for him to fuck your ass. So he starts small by slowly inserting the tip of his finger, before gradually using slow yet long strokes, enough to make your head loll back.

Felix has to express in awe when he sees the result of your efforts to fully envelope Chan’s length, “look at that. You took all of him, angel.”

You know very well that you have because you can feel him in places that other men in your past haven’t reached. The stretch still sings a bit but it could easily be confused with the gorgeous satisfaction of Chan filling you right out.

“So…big,” you strain out, scratching your nails down Chan’s abdomen, almost like a cat, just not as painful.

Meanwhile, as Felix has slowly been stretching your hole out with his fingers, he uses his teeth and his free hand to peel the foil back of the condom packet. He had already freed himself from his jeans when he went to reach for the lube beside the bed so was hard and ready to roll the condom down his cock.

“M’ready Lix,” you say to him, unable to see the smile you brought to his face from how eager you are.

“I know baby, just one second,” he replies before aligning his cock with your hole.

Very carefully and slowly, he starts pushing his tip in. Your eyes flutter shut, steadying your breathing in the process in preparation to take all of him as well. Chan rubs up and down your arm, distracting you from the temporary sting. With the lube doing its job, Felix can continue to push in at a leisurely pace right until he has the majority of his cock wrapped up by you.

“Doing so well Y/N,” Chan says reassuringly. “Just stay like this for a bit until you’re ready to move yeah?”

You nod, allowing your body and muscles to relax and ease into the pleasure that’s starting to fade out the burn. It’s difficult to comprehend a fuller feeling than this; to have two cocks stuffed in you to the hilt, and after a few moments of getting used to it, you slowly start to move.

“Mmm, yes fuck,” you sigh with satisfaction, using your hands on Chan’s abdomen to steady your body as you being to move your hips. “You both…feel so fucking good inside me.”

Your words were difficult for Felix to not listen to who was trying to ward off from thrusting for a little bit until you were comfortable with him starting to fuck you. It wasn’t until your movements became a bit quicker that he began to catch up to your pace. Very quickly did the room turn into a space brimming with moans, wet sounds, and the sound of skin slapping. It was plenty to add to the intense sensation you were hurtling towards.

Chan’s eyes are fixated on watching your pussy swallow his cock with every long stroke you take on him, “oh my god.”

With his tank top still on, Chan lifts it by the hem and holds onto it with his teeth. It wasn’t just to make sure that your hands weren’t going to be slipping on him as you use his abdomen to support yourself when you rock down, but it was also to restrict a whole bunch of moans that were about to rip through his chest. But even that couldn’t put a lid on the groans and growls rumbling from him.

“Taking us both so well angel,” Felix says exasperatedly in your ear.

His deep yet velvety voice has you leaning back slightly so that half of your back is pressed against his chest. With the help of you turning your head towards his face, Felix’s mouth crashes onto yours, almost tasting the remnants of yourself from before. He kisses you passionately, moaning into your mouth like he’s going to die if he doesn’t.

“Fucking perfect,” he growls, diverging from your mouth to dive into your neck to suck a few hickies in and groping your tits from behind. “Can’t get enough of you dammit.”

You sob out as he pinches your nipples, but also when Chan reaches down to your pussy, finds your clit and begins to rub in perfect motions, “god – fuck, I can’t…s’too much!”

Their cocks hit spots so phenomenally that each time they stroke over them, your holes involuntarily clench around them. Not to mention the total stimulation they were feeding you.

Felix’s hips haven’t faltered since they started pumping forward into your ass. The upward curvature of his cock seemed to be scratching the part of your brain that is responsible for making your eyes roll back. Chan’s dick on the other hand had you shaking. The length and girth were sickeningly satisfying.

“Not gonna last,” you whine, still keeping up the same pace when you rock down on Chan and feel Felix continue to thrust in and out. “So close…”

The hem of Chan’s shirt is long gone from his mouth, already given up on trying to suppress whatever was going to come out, “gonna cum for us again, huh? Such a good girl, taking us both at the same time.”

Chan couldn’t lie either, but he was close a long time ago, probably the second you decided that you wanted to ride him. Felix happened to be on the same page. He couldn’t get over this entire situation, finding it so fucking hot that even just a dream of it would be a blessing.

Words start to slip away from your brain once more. Aside from your orgasm swimming towards an astronomical high, you try to cling to that amazing feeling before it eventually disappears. But all good things come to an end. Your nails dig into Chan’s thighs while Felix has one arm barred just under your chest as the other hand doesn’t let up on your nipple. It throws your pace off balance and staggers your breathing when you start reaching that very pinnacle of euphoria.

“Yes! Fuck, I’m cumming!” You scream out.

Your thighs clamp around the frame of Chan’s lower half, shaking and shivering in place as the pleasure reaches its apex. Felix didn’t let up on his pace, fucking you all through your orgasm as Chan replaces your motions by fucking upwards and into you. Both of your holes spasm and contract around their dicks, enough to actually make them cum by the time you’ve reached the height of your orgasm.

“I’m gonna cum, holy fuck, s’too good,” Felix’s head rests on your back, watching his cock disappear in and out of you before he starts to bust inside of the condom. His fingernails brutally dig into your hips when he cums.

Your moans easily fill up the room once more now that you have no choice but to succumb to the euphoria when your orgasm hits its hardest. Chan’s head tips back further into the pillow, eyes screwed tight shut as he’s hit with a tsunami of pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he exclaims loudly, his chest heaving up and down as he spills inside of you. He’s lucky that he did because as the pleasure reached a point where it was too much for you to bear, you slowly lean forward towards Chan, their cocks sliding out of you in the process.

On each exhale your body shudders, like the surges of aftershocks while the pleasure slowly plateaus. From this angle, Felix can still see you contracting, watching Chan’s cum leak from your pussy. If he wasn’t so fucked out, he would’ve had the energy to eat you out again.

In saying that, he is the first to recover and come to his senses a bit faster than either you or Chan. He takes the condom off, ties it, and discards it in the rubbish bin in the corner of the room before putting his boxers back on. Meanwhile, you’re still panting trying to catch your breath, resting on top of Chan’s body, you feel his hand run soothingly up and down your spine.

“Such a good girl for us,” he says caringly. “Felt so good.”

Felix sits beside you both at the top of the bed. He cards a gentle hand through your hair, observing your distant expression, “you there baby?”

You blink up at him and nod, your brain still trying to process that sort of orgasm.

“When you’re ready, we’ll get you cleaned up yeah?” He smiles softly down at you.

As the minutes ticked by, Felix lent you a helping hand to stand up when you were ready. Even though you were wobbly on your feet, he still guided you to the bathroom and ran a nice hot shower. Both Felix and Chan joined you in a bid to make sure you knew that they were there, dousing you with as much praise as an individual could get – and they meant every word.

When you were ready to hop out, Chan fetched you one of his warm jerseys and placed it straight over your body before telling you to hop in his bed while he went to gather up the towels and clothes from the bathroom. Just as he was picking up the last items, Felix caught him right as he was about to walk out.

“She okay?” Chan asks him.

Felix nods reassuringly, “out like a light.”

“Alright then,” he sighs contently. “She’ll probably be asleep for the rest of the day.”

“Mm,” he hums, staring at a space just to the side of Chan who picks up on the subtle behaviour.

“Is there something wrong?” Chan asks as a slight concern balloons in his chest.

“When are you going to tell her?” Felix asks.

Chan stares at him, trying to figure out what he means, “tell her what?”

He rolls his eyes and chuckles, “that you like her, idiot. That we like her.”

That had been a distant thought for Chan for some time. The possibility of that ever working out between the three of you seemed like a long shot. You only all slept together. There was no depth to it other than that even though deep down, Chan would’ve liked it to be for the sole purpose that he likes you. But it’s not just him.

It’s also the one standing at the doorframe, staring right back at Chan; Felix.

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #han jisung smut #bang chan smut #hyunjin smut #changbin smut #felix smut #i.n smut #chanlix #bang chan x reader #felix x reader #chanlix x reader

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jeonqkooks · 1 year

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our beloved summer | jjk (04)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, drinking, swearing, the word "dick" is mentioned a few times lol, jeon jungkook (yes, bc at this point he's annoying even to me), yoongi is a menace, oc is fighting with everybody asdfgjkl girl 🙄, inaccuracies about music making !! and i hope obs readers aren't music majors bc that'd be really embarrassing for me lol, idk i think that's it

rating: PG-15

word count: 16.3k

note: a major thank you to @daechwitatamic for beta-ing this for me and for doing it so fast!!, you are a gem ily jo 🥺🥰 aaaaaand omg yeah! i can't believe the duck is here. he's finally here!!! ah we love to see it hehehehe :') it feels fitting that obs4 is the one to close off 2022 <3

series masterpost / main playlist ; interactive playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Ask your new lover what it's like to be given A real fighting chance before you wish her, "Good riddance,” Did anything ever really count Or was I just a two-year practice round?

Before - NIKI

Ah, the grand opening of Jimin’s own dance studio. It’s been in the works for a while now, ever since he quit his job as an instructor at that fancy academy downtown.

When you arrive at the venue, the event is already in full swing. You would’ve come sooner, to see Jimin before things get too hectic and more people would want to steal him away to say their congratulations. You could’ve come sooner, had you accepted Jungkook’s offer to drive the both of you here. It’s the less time-consuming option, and one that’s more environmentally conscious, but you didn’t want to be left alone with Jungkook – not after what Namjoon had unintentionally revealed to you – in a space where you couldn’t force him to just talk about work while Jimin went to mingle with his guests, and Taehyung couldn’t get off work any earlier than 6:30.

You have to hand it to Jimin. He really went all out for this. The venue he booked looks amazing, and so much bigger than you expected, but that’s probably to accommodate the shit ton of people he invited tonight. There’s catering, cutesy party favors, and most importantly, an open bar that you absolutely would die for. Bless Jimin and his excessive spending heart.

Although, the photographer that he got for tonight can’t exactly be considered great. He looks young, maybe early 20s and still hasn’t learned how to lose the attitude yet, just walking around with his hefty camera and looking like he has a stick up his ass. He’s definitely being underpaid. Jimin must not have taken this factor into account until he had already exceeded his budget.

“Oh, Jiminie,” you mutter to yourself like a mom whose child just won the school talent show, making a beeline for Jimin and pulling him into a hug, not caring that he’s holding a flute of champagne that could’ve easily spilled onto you. “Jiminie, I’m so proud of you. I know how hard you’ve worked, and you deserve this so much. I love you. You’re going to be amazing.”

Every single syllable that slips from your lips is genuine. You’ve seen how passionate Jimin is, and you know how long this has been a dream of his. In your eyes, he deserves the absolute world and more.

You kiss his cheek to emphasize the meaning behind your words. You’ve never been the sentimental type with your friends except for rare occasions like these. On birthdays, you're not the one to shoot them the first happy birthday! text at 12AM on the dot, nor are you the one to plan surprise parties and go all out on extravagant presents.

You have your own way of showing your friends that you love them without any grand, tacky gestures. You like to think that you’re a good friend, and you hope they think that too.

But… you feel guilty today. You feel guilty for even toying with the idea of not going just because you didn’t want to face Jungkook in a setting that wasn’t the studio. When Taehyung asked if you had gotten the invite and you couldn’t confirm your attendance right away, he looked at you like you were out of your mind. He looked at you like Why wasn’t dropping every single one of your plans not the first thought that comes to mind when you received the text. Because this is Jimin you’re talking about. One of your closest friends. The incredulousness on Taehyung’s face that night made you feel small because really, you were being selfish.

After the breakup, you repeatedly assured Taehyung that he should still be friends with Jungkook, though the petty part of your brain wanted nothing more than to have Taehyung cut off all ties with your ex and tell him to go shove it.

If you weren’t in the picture, they still would’ve bonded the way they did and developed that kind of brotherly connection. Just because you and Taehyung were closer doesn’t mean that he and Jungkook weren’t close. They were close throughout college, and it had nothing to do with the fact that one was your best friend and the other was your boyfriend. That’s why you weren’t particularly fond of making Taehyung lose someone he considered family, even if that man did stomp on your heart to hell and back.

You just had to make it crystal clear to Taehyung – and Jimin by extension – to not put you and Jungkook in the same place ever again.

And that’s exactly what Taehyung and Jimin have been doing these past few years. Birthday parties, nights out and celebratory dinners multiplied by two to keep you and Jungkook separate. It was like you were strangers who never knew each other existed. Different worlds that can’t ever collide. You all got used to this certain arrangement. It works out for everybody: You don’t have to see your ex, and Jimin and Taehyung get to keep their friend. If it isn’t broken, don’t fix it.

The barrier that you forced between you and him worked, but sadly it did put a strain on Taehyung and Jimin’s wallets. You were always a group of five though, until Hoseok moved abroad the very week before college ended. He didn’t even attend graduation. That summer, you weren’t the only one left heartbroken. Hoseok’s parents had turned a 180 and decided to make him pursue another degree to take over the family business instead of continuing to let him follow his dreams, which have always been music and dancing. When he broke the news, you all gathered around and cried together. You were beyond upset for him; you knew how Hoseok shined the brightest when he got to do what he loved.

Since then, he only comes back a couple of times a year. Every time, you would all try and make the most of it, wanting to relive those college days that you cherished so much. But during each of these visits, there is always something bittersweet that you think you all could feel. Because Hoseok wasn’t a constant in your lives anymore. The five of you were thick as thieves. You were there for each other through every high and every low. It’s somber to think that you will never have that ever again.

Hoseok wasn’t there to personally witness what the breakup did to you, but you were certain that he knew about it. Taehyung and Jimin must have told him at some point. You don’t think you’ve ever had a proper conversation with Hoseok about how your relationship with Jungkook ended. He only visits as seldom as it is. You don’t want to spend every reunion wallowing in misery, or make everything about your baggage when everyone has their own shit to deal with.

“Shit, Y/N, why are you being sappy?” Jimin mutters as he blinks at you, eyes glassy, all shy and adorable when he sniffles. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

It isn’t until then that you notice Jungkook standing next to Jimin, having watched the whole interaction with an identical champagne glass in his hand and a small smile on his face.

“Hi,” he says, even though it has only been a couple of hours since you last saw each other.

You send him a nod, merely to acknowledge his presence. Taehyung pulls Jimin into a hug of his own too, swaying him from side to side like they’re in their own little world.

You can feel Jungkook’s gaze on the side of your face but you keep your eyes trained on Taehyung’s back, watching your two friends be dramatic and goofy and happy.

When you deem that they’ve had their fun, you tug Taehyung back by his jacket. “Okay, that’s enough, lovebirds. You’re acting like you don’t see each other every other day. Stop being so clingy.”

“No!” Jimin swats your hand away but lets his friend go regardless. He’s smiling so big that his eyes have turned into narrow slits, pearly whites on full display, cute pinchable cheeks turned rosy from the champagne and euphoria. “Do I look weird? I feel like I look weird. I can’t stop smiling.”

“You don’t look weird,” you say, booping his nose affectionately then ruffling his head of blond hair. “You look perfect.”

Jimin blushes, which makes him even cuter. Then his eyes light up when he spots someone behind you. His hand shoots up to wave the person over to your table as he calls, “Hobi hyung!”

Hobi– what?

You and Taehyung turn around, four eyes flying wide open.

Slapping a hand to Taehyung’s chest, you gasp. “Holy shit. Did you know about this?!”

“No! I’m as shocked as you are!”

Hoseok skips the pleasantries. He just grins brightly and yanks you and Taehyung into him, crushing you two in his hug as he shakes you enthusiastically. When he lets go, he kisses both of your cheeks. He diverts his attention to Jungkook then, yelling out Jaykay! so loudly that people turn to look. He does the same thing to Jungkook as he did to you, enveloping the younger man in a very Hoseok-esque embrace.

“Hobi!” you squeal, completely overjoyed. Taehyung looks about the same as you, the two of you practically bouncing like golden retrievers. “Why didn’t you tell us you were going to be here?”

Hoseok shares a look with Jimin, and they both break out into a fit of giggles. “Obviously I wasn’t going to miss tonight,” he says. “But I’m disappointed in you, Y/N. You should’ve surprised Jimin with me, not the other way around.”

“Wha– Jung Hoseok, you blocked me last month after I sent you that jumpscare video.”

“Oh, right,” he laughs. “In any case, it’s always so good to see all of you simp over me every time I come home.”

“Hobi, I implore you to stop saying ‘simp’ as a grown ass man.”

“Y/N, this grown ass man implores you to stop calling him Hobi.”

It isn’t until now that you start to relax more. Everything feels so much simpler now that Hoseok is here and all of you are together. Catching up with him, you’re always enraptured to hear the stories he has to tell. Even if it’s brief and the bubble has to eventually burst, he never fails to give you that odd sense of peace you’ve been craving since you got older. Hoseok has a way of making time stretch on forever, in a good way.

At one point, he stops talking, noticing something out of place. “Oh? You two…” he gestures between you and Jungkook, and the conversation seems to end here because even Hoseok doesn’t know what to say or what to ask. Clearly Taehyung and Jimin haven’t been doing a very good job at keeping him up to date. Then things just start getting kinda awkward again.

You feel partly to blame. After all, you’re one of the two people making this weird for everybody.

For most of the night, you manage to avoid talking to Jungkook. It’s not that difficult really, with Taehyung practically gluing himself to your side (per your request) and catching up with Hoseok, Jungkook could hardly get a word in with you.

You pat Taehyung on the cheek. “Thanks for sticking with me,” you tell him.

“Of course,” he says. “And y’know, it’s not like you really gave me a choice.”

Your hand that’s still on his cheek goes to pinch it. His cheek is so squishy, it feels like you’re kneading dough. You can’t help but squeeze your fingers a little harder.

“Ah! Okay!” he squeaks out. “Sorry!”

You giggle at his frowny face before giving him another affectionate pat. “Seriously, can you imagine Jungkook seeing me drunk without you to hold me back? That’s one of my worst nightmares.”

Taehyung bites his tongue, remembering the night he had put Jimin on pick up duty and Jungkook had tagged along. Taehyung even recalls the morning after, when he was walking on eggshells around you, trying to figure out if your memory would serve you. When he was positive that it didn’t, he had to thank the heavens for letting him live to see another day.

Because if you ever find out, oh you would kill him. You would knock him to the ground and strangle him with your bare hands. He’s absolutely certain that you would. Knowingly letting your friend’s ex see her absolutely shitfaced and crying over said ex? Now that is heinous.

“Hold this,” Taehyung says now that it’s just the two of you, handing you his glass of whiskey. Hoseok got pulled somewhere so Jimin could introduce him to some of his staff, and Jungkook is… well, you have no idea where he is. “I have to pee.”

“What, now?”

“No, two hours from now. I’m just announcing it in advance,” Taehyung deadpans. “Yes, now!”

“I literally just thanked you.” You glare up at him. He starts to get sassy a couple of drinks in. “I’ll come with you.”

“What, to the men’s bathroom? Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I don’t even see Jungkook anywhere. He’s probably mingling. C’mon, I’ll be gone two minutes, tops, okay?”

“No, no, no, wait–!” Aaand he’s already jogging away. Great.

You sigh, take a sip of Taehyung’s drink and immediately grimace. You really don’t like whiskey. You find an empty table nearby to put the glass down and loiter. To anyone, you must look like you’ve got a bad case of social anxiety, standing alone and fidgeting like that, but no, what you have is Jungkook anxiety.

As you keep your head down and pull out your phone to make it seem like you actually have something to do instead of waiting for your friend to return from the bathroom, your head bobs gently to the faint music coming from the speakers. Peace lasts for about thirty seconds. You turn to look when someone nudges your shoulder.

“You look beautiful,” Jungkook tells you with a smile that almost blinds you. You have to admit, he’s so handsome tonight, and it’s part of why you’ve been avoiding looking at him since you got here.

You glance down at your outfit. You tend to dress more casually at the studio, but today, you wanted to up the ante a little bit for Jimin. It’s nothing fancy, just a smidge more put-together than what you usually go for. Knee-high boots, a black skirt, a cozy sweater and your favorite winter coat. Actually put on some blush for once to top it all off.

“I’ve looked like this since the morning.”

“I know,” he says. “I’ve been wanting to say it all day.”

It’s the compliment, the sparkling eyes and the soft, warm smile making your face heat up. You bite the inside of your cheek, urging yourself to snap out of it.

The strategy is to deflect. You practically shove your phone in his face with the Gmail app open, making him squint in reflex at the sudden brightness assaulting his eyes. “So Namjoon just sent me this–”

Jungkook takes a step back and brushes your hand away. “Honestly, if it’s fine with you, can we not talk about work?” he chuckles as he says this. “I just got out of the studio. I’d rather not think about it for a minute.”

So it would appear that deflecting is not a viable option.

“Oh, okay.” You nod slowly, putting your phone back into your bag. You are so awkward, and too sober for this, and desperately need your Taehyung-shaped buffer. “Uhm, so… what now?”

Jungkook gives you a quiet chuckle, trying to go over this as nonchalantly as possible. “Friends can talk about things. I’m sure we can figure something out.”

Your brows furrow slightly as you recall what you told Seokjin before. Friends… Jungkook still doesn’t seem to know the definition of the word. Does he think you meant it? That you were actually friends now? He can’t be that fucking dense, can he? When he came knocking at your door not that long ago, has he forgotten that look in your eyes and the door closing in his face when he uttered this exact word to you?

From the start, Jungkook was never your friend.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to do this at the studio and I didn’t want to do it here, today, Jimin’s big day, but I have to ask. What are you doing?”

He blinks, seemingly confused, and it prompts you to continue.

“What is this? What am I supposed to talk about with you if it’s not work?” you say slowly. “You know I was just saying that to not make things awkward for Seokjin and Namjoon, right?” Too slowly, like he’s stupid and you need to enunciate every syllable. You can’t help it.

Jungkook puts his champagne glass on the table. He looks a little lost, and it’s clear that this is a turn that neither of you expected. See, you think, wishing Taehyung would come back right this second to witness this, This is why I need to drink.

“What happened? I thought we were doing fine.”

He took the words right out your mouth, only a few years too late.

Is he serious? He really is that dense?

Your mouth falls open, trying to gauge if you are actually on the same topic, or if you’re even speaking the same language. It can’t be more painfully obvious that you two have been living completely different realities.

“You happened,” you snap, amazed by the fact that you even have to tell him.

You stop short of saying: Fuck you. You unraveled my life like a hurricane and now I have to be the one to remind you of it? You wanted nothing to do with me the last five years and now you’re trying to get me all to yourself?

You can’t help the next question that slips out either. Blame the small part of you that’s been dying to know this since you found out the news from Namjoon. “Why would you think that we’d be fine? Who do you think I am to you?”

Jungkook’s lips part but he doesn’t say anything for nearly half a minute. His face falls just a tad, and you don’t really know what to make of that. His eyes glimmer under the lights. With what, you can’t know for certain. It must be shame. Is it possible that there’s guilt swimming in those irises? Underneath the surface of those brown eyes, is it too much to ask that there be some regret too?

You think the question nicked him somewhere you can’t see. Call it wishful thinking, but you hope it’s the same place that he has always cut into you.

Bleed. Bleed like you made me bleed.

Finally, he says, “You’re…”

Then, Jimin practically shouts into a mic that he has procured somewhere. Wonderful timing, blondie.

“Can everyone gather at the front for a group photo please? I’m going to hang it on the wall!”

You don’t know if you should be frustrated or grateful for the interruption. That void that you used to fill with anger and resentment is now bubbling with something else. No matter how hard you try to swallow it all down, you know it won’t stop until you overflow, until you’re swallowed whole by that grief again. You feel foolish. Cheap. Hard to love, hard to keep. He meant the world to you but to him, turns out you were merely replaceable.

You turn away from Jungkook in favor of another chaos. In the midst of the grand Park family – Jimin’s many cousins, bubbly nieces and nephews who all want to be in the center of the photo – you get pushed to the side. There’s too many people here. It’ll probably end up looking like one of those company pictures where at least half the people have their eyes closed and the other half look like they can’t wait to get out of there. You don’t know where Taehyung is, if he’s even back from the bathroom. You’re so tired. So drained, all of a sudden. You miss your bed and your comfy pillows and your warm fluffy blanket. You want to sink into it and melt like a piece of marshmallow on hot chocolate.

You stand there awkwardly on the very edge, aware of Jungkook loitering a couple of steps from you as you both wait for people to make up their mind on where to stand. You can tell that the photographer is getting frustrated when he finally steps in to guide the older people when they start looking like buffering Sims. You don’t even know where Jimin and Hoseok are either.

“Okay, is everyone ready?” the photographer asks, his voice unamused as he raises the camera to look through the viewfinder. He doesn’t even wait for any confirmation and just starts counting down. No doubt about it, Jimin is definitely underpaying this guy. “Three, two, o– Wait. You on the left. No, my left. Yes, you, guy in the black coat. Could you stand closer? You’re almost out of the frame.”

Jungkook – “guy in the black coat” – shuffles closer until you can smell his familiar cologne over the overwhelming floral scent radiating off the woman next to you. He moves until the photographer gives his nod of approval, until your arms touch. It makes you nervous, even through the layers of clothes. What was he going to say? What did you want him to say? What could be a good enough answer?

You all smile as the camera clicks a few times. You might’ve had your eyes closed in one of the shots. Seriously, you have to make Jimin show you the picture before he commemorates his wall with it. If you have to be immortalized on a wall next to your ex, then at least you should look good.

Everybody disperses after that; some going to bid Jimin goodbye as they end the night and go home, some returning to their previously established groups to chat some more. You feel like now is probably a good time to leave.

You move to go find Taehyung, but someone stops you. A warm hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you back. You glance at where Jungkook’s skin touches yours, then your eyes flicker up to meet his. They don’t let you move, and neither do the words he says next. His face is softer than you’ve witnessed in a while. No teasing, no bravado. Just honesty.

“You’re someone important to me.”

Oof. Two strikes in one night.

It makes you angry for some reason – his honesty. Because it really looks like he believes it to be true.

This is the last thing you wanted, fighting when you’re supposed to be celebrating Jimin, but you suppose it’s happening. “I can’t tell if you mean it or if you’re just playing with me,” you say.

Jungkook pales a shade as you stare at him with hard eyes.

“I do mean it,” he says. He looks down at your hand, his fingers on your wrist twitching.

“If that were really the case, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” you tell him. “If I were really important to you, you wouldn’t have screwed me over like that. If I were really important, you wouldn’t be here right now, acting like I’m something you can throw away whenever you feel like it, and pick back up like nothing ever happened. You know, I was starting to be okay. I was starting to get used to it and you just had to come waltzing back into my life. Do you know how important this is to me? That this is my dream I get to live but I’m just trying to survive it and never have to see you again? Why can’t you just– Fuck.”

You choke on the last of it, knowing that if you keep going, you will cry, and your pride won’t let you break down in front of your friends and strangers alike. In front of Jungkook. You count each breath in your head to steady yourself until your lungs feel less like they’re going to burn out of oxygen.

You’re surprised that you were able to say that without much liquid courage. You’re glad that you’re standing near the corner of the room where nobody is really paying attention to you. Jungkook lets go of your wrist, visibly gulping as he does so. It feels like there’s an entire orchestra in here – people talking, music playing, all echoing around the room – and you suppose you’re thankful for that. He can’t hear your heart screaming over the noises. If you weren’t sure if he was feeling ashamed before, then you’re sure now. He should be ashamed, for everything he put you through. If you could, you would give it back to him ten times worse.

Quietly, Jungkook says, “I’m sorry,” and then nothing else.

You swear you can hear a clock go tick, tock, tick, tock… The passage of time is so palpable, like something you can hold in your hands. Minutes upon minutes, hours upon hours, days upon days - they sit in the palm of your hands but amount to nothing at all. They slip through your fingers again. Nothing is guaranteed, you realize belatedly then, certainly not closure. You’re never going to get it right. He’s always going to blindside you.

And no matter how hard you try to keep him at bay, he’s always going to get under your skin.

Stop slipping. Stop slipping. Stop slipping.

“Huh,” you mutter to yourself, bitterly, confusedly, amusedly, “I thought that would feel better.”

“What?” he asks.

“Hearing you say sorry. Did you know that you never said sorry to me?”

“It’s not– I–” he stutters. How could he possibly object to that? It’s the truth. It’s the absolute and pathetic truth. He leaves the sentence unfinished like the history of the two of you, half written until he decided that he was done with it. Time would not tell the rest, and all you were left with were blank pages that no one could fill. “I’m sorry,” he ends up saying again, as if repeating it would make the words have more gravity. If that is his intention then you suppose he succeeds, because it makes your heart heavier.

“I’m trying to do right by you.”

You consider it for a second. When you turn away, you find Taehyung across the room, already looking at you, though you don’t think he can hear anything from where he’s standing. Your friend has ‘worried’ written all over his face.

“Are you trying to do right by me? Or by you?” you ask, and then something starts to sink in. You spent so much time thinking about it, wondering where everything went wrong. Going around in circles, dwelling, trying to put together puzzle pieces that just won’t fit. That’s time that you can never get back. You’ve always known that at some point, you would have to let it all go. Maybe now is that point. Let go of things that you have no control over. You’re only burning yourself by holding on. Isn’t it better to let it scar than to keep picking at the wound and making it bleed? “Actually, it doesn’t even matter anymore. What’s the point? I’ve come to terms with it. You can do whatever you want to feel better. Just do it by yourself. Don’t use me.”

Jungkook frowns. “I’m not using you.”

You manage to suppress the urge to scoff. “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing? Thinking you could come back and sweet talk me and then you’d be absolved just like that?”

“I know you must hate me,” he says. “...for everything.”

“I do.” No fucking shit. “If you know that, then why are you doing this?” Don’t push it, your brain says, but the way he’s staring at the ground, unable to meet your eyes, looking like a puppy you just kicked makes you annoyed. “Did you know that the first time I ever saw you, I hated you?” you ask, making his eyes flit up to yours. “I wish we could’ve left it at that.”

When his face flashes with hurt, you almost feel bad even though you wished for this. His jaw clenches as you walk away, leaving him there by himself.

“Wanna head home?” Taehyung asks before you have to even say anything. He regards you with soft and apologetic eyes, with a gentle hand on your arm and concern still etched onto his features. Taehyung is a warm summer’s breeze compared to the desolate winter that Jungkook has made of you. You answer with a simple nod.

“Wait for me by the car. I’ll say bye to Jimin and be right out,” Taehyung tells you.

“Okay.”

He puts an arm around your shoulder and squeezes you once. “Sorry about that by the way… There was a line for the bathroom.”

Monday comes too soon.

You have to face Jungkook again too soon.

“Unclench your butt.”

You snap your head to the sound of Yoongi’s voice right next to your ear. His tone is teasing, and his face even more so. The man’s got way too much energy for 9 in the morning.

“Excuse me?” you grumble. You’ve been standing outside the studio for almost ten minutes now, letting your nerves eat away at you because you know Jungkook is already here. You saw his car earlier.

“Your butt,” your friend says. “It’s too clenched.”

“You were looking at my butt?” You give him a disapproving look.

“Only because you look like you’re trying to hold in a shit.” Yoongi shrugs indifferently. “Why are you standing out here anyway?”

Your fingers twitch around the strap of your bag as you try to give him a nonchalant answer. “Trying to manifest the death of capitalism before you interrupted me.”

“Mhmm,” he says, eyeing you suspiciously like a distrusting cat. “Spill. What happened?”

“What happened with what?”

“I know you went to your friend’s thing on Friday. And I know Jungkook was there too. So what happened?”

You debate whether or not you should tell Yoongi. It’s not like you have anything to hide; he already knows about your history anyway. But he’s been the most insufferable toward Jungkook in the short time that he’s been here, and giving him the goss on your little conversation the other day would only give him another reason to be an even bigger menace. You bite your tongue, and put on the most neutral expression you can manage.

“Nothing happened,” you say. “You’re being nosy, Min.”

You push open the door to be greeted by an incredibly cheerful Seokjin and Namjoon. Why is everyone so bubbly on a Monday morning? Have they always been like this, or do you just feel like everything coming out of their mouths is sunshine and rainbows compared to the black cloud hovering over your head?

Seems like you aren’t the only one dreading the new week though. Jungkook visibly stiffens as you enter, completely devoid of that easy-going smile he always greets you with. “Hey,” he tells you.

“Morning,” you reply. To him, to Seokjin, to Namjoon. You take a seat at your usual corner, setting down your bag and pulling out your pen and notebook.

Seokjin launches into conversation with Yoongi about a basketball game. Apparently there was one last night, but you don’t really care about that. Namjoon doesn’t seem to have much interest in the topic either, choosing to weigh in with an occasional hum here and there to be polite.

Like you, Jungkook is quiet. He knows enough about basketball to hold a conversation but you know it’s never been his favorite thing in the world. Normally though, even if he isn’t particularly knowledgeable in the matter at hand, he would still act like he’s genuinely absorbed in whatever everyone was talking about, just to be friendly and sociable. He was always very good at networking; that’s why people loved him in college. From what you’ve seen, that trait carried over into adulthood as well.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Jungkook fidget in his chair. He turns his head every once in a while to glance at you, which doesn’t go unnoticed by you, nor Yoongi for that matter. Yoongi nudges your knee with his own, prompting a curious look from you. He leans closer to your ear and lowers his voice so that nobody can hear.

“Jungkook looks like his butt is pretty clenched too.”

Your grip on the pen loosens as you swirl it around absentmindedly, humming to yourself the melody off the page as if it’ll summon words to the sheet, where it’s mostly blank beneath all the squiggly music notes. The men – with the exception of Namjoon; he’s out for the day – gather around, discussing the first demo track. You drown most of it out. Your job here isn’t to wring out the kinks with the technical aspects anyway.

“We could record something for the rough demo today,” Yoongi thinks out loud.

“Today?” Jungkook asks as he arches an eyebrow. “For what track? We don’t have a single thing completely finished yet?”

“Buddy, are you a glass half empty kind of guy?” Yoongi jokes. “From what I see, we have at least four tracks halfway done. That’s enough for us to record.”

The younger man leans back in his chair and crosses his arms in front of his chest, highly annoyed but he still tries to keep a straight face and an even voice. It’s his first big project, and this fucking person is coming in and stepping all over his toes. To Jungkook, Yoongi is just some guy. He has never understood what the hype was about with Agust D, why he has always been a massive media darling and why everybody seems so enamored with him. Seokjin talks about him like Jungkook should feel so privileged to have the opportunity to work with such talent. Namjoon, his own freaking mentor, practically idolizes Yoongi. He almost passed out from glee when he heard that Yoongi would be coming on board. Even when the label was trying to get the rapper to sign with them, Jungkook never got what all the fuss was about.

It’s almost frustrating to watch people around him fawn over Yoongi like he hangs the moon in the sky. If you feel the same way about him, you don’t let it show, but Jungkook can tell that you admire and respect the guy a lot. He just can’t figure out what the deal is between you and Yoongi. Something is there. If not from your side then definitely from Yoongi’s. He seems too protective of you. Taehyung is the same way, and so are Jimin and Hoseok, but with them, Jungkook understands. They’ve been friends with you since forever, and he can’t imagine that your friendship with Yoongi can ever be that special.

“I disagree,” Jungkook asserts. “It’s a waste of time to make a demo now when we’d have to do it all over again later. At this point, all we’ll get is scraps. It wouldn’t help us get anywhere.”

Yoongi glances at Seokjin, who’s been watching but not really contributing, and they both share a look. It makes Jungkook want to get more fired up because he is supposed to be in charge here, but Yoongi is clearly more in tune with what Seokjin wants and how he operates. Jungkook will be the first one to say that he is not the best team player, but at least he tries. It usually works out just fine in the end, once he can get his ego out of the way to actually get something done, but this time it’s proving to be quite the challenge when it seems like Yoongi is constantly trying to hinder him.

“Jungkook, look.” Even the way he says his name is irritating. “I’ve been doing this way longer than you have, buddy. I was a producer before I became a rapper. I think I know what I’m doing here.”

“And I see why you would think this is a good idea, but I’m saying it’s a waste of time and effort to do this when we’ll just have to redo the whole process later. You want a summer release. We don’t have the time, and do we even have enough budget–”

Yoongi tilts his head to one side with an amused smile. “Are you sure this is the right business for you? Should you be in risk assessment instead? Why are you here worrying about budgets and timing? That’s the whole point of doing preliminary demos, to help you see what direction to take and guide the creative process–”

“Okay, okay. Retract the claws, fellas,” Seokjin jumps in this time. “I’m with Yoongi on this one, JK. Take it easy, man.”

Jungkook tongues his cheek and nods begrudgingly. He makes it seem like he’s taking it in stride, tucking his chagrin behind a mask of indifference. Yoongi shrugs with a triumphant grin, clasping his hands together as he gestures both Seokjin and Jungkook to the soundbooth.

“What?” The younger man stares at the other two. “You want me in there too?”

“Yeah, just to test some stuff out. You have a nice voice,” Yoongi admits, and even though he’s being genuine for once, Jungkook still feels like it’s condescending somehow. Anything that comes out of Yoongi’s mouth is patronizing to him. “Couldn’t hurt to see how it would sound like with Jin hyung. Maybe we could even use it later.”

You’ve been trying to keep your head down and shut out all the sounds. Sounds of Jungkook fucking singing. Why did Min Yoongi have to force him into the box?

Back then, you used to tell him that he’s good enough to be a singer. He’d sing you to sleep whenever you were plagued with insomnia, or when you were sick, or just whenever you wanted him to. His voice always soothed you, made you feel warm all over.

As if ignoring him today wasn’t difficult enough already.

“You’re bleeding.” You hear someone say a while later.

Your head snaps up to see what’s going on. Somebody’s bleeding? How did that happen? But Seokjin and Jungkook are still in the booth, both looking at the paper that Jungkook is holding, talking to each other about something you can’t catch. You scan the room, brows furrowed, until you see Yoongi looking at you.

“Huh?” He points toward your hands. “You’re bleeding.”

Your eyes follow his line of sight until they land on what he’s staring at. You put the pen on the table and flex your hands. He’s exaggerating, they aren’t bleeding. Well, technically, they are if you count the reddened patches of cracked skin between your knuckles as bleeding. Your hands are just dry because the weather is cold. It happens. Dramatic Yoongi.

You wave him off with a smile. “Eh. It’s fine. I’ll put some lotion on it when I get home,” you lie. You don’t even have any hand cream. You’ve only tried using a dollop of body lotion on your hands once, but you didn’t like how your skin just felt so sticky afterward that it would leave visible prints when you touched your phone screen.

Yoongi shakes his head lightly. “No, you won’t. I’ve noticed that for a few days now.”

You level him with a look. “What are you, the hand police? It’s just dry hands. I’m not gonna die from that.”

“No, you‘re not,” Yoongi agrees, but regardless, he stands up and walks to retrieve his bag from where he left it on the couch. You watch with curiosity as he rummages through it until he pulls out a white tube of something. He crosses the distance to get to where you’re sitting and settles into the chair next to you. He reaches for your hands then, and says, “But do it for my sake. I don’t wanna look at your ugly witch's hands all day.”

“Yoongi!” you hiss, instantly scowling and failing to push him off when his stronger hand grasps one of your own. He pops open the tube and squeezes some of the cream onto your skin. “What are you doing?!”

“Hold still,” he says because you keep squirming. When the sheer weight of your glare on his face makes him look up at you, Yoongi actually glares back at you. Gasp. “Hold still,” he repeats firmly.

You huff out a breath in annoyance. You glance at the booth to see if the guys are looking, but Seokjin still appears to be focused on the music sheet. You see and faintly hear him humming, his fingers tapping the air like he’s counting the beats. Jungkook, though… Jungkook is looking.

In the few seconds that your eyes meet his, you can tell that he’s trying to understand whatever the hell he’s watching here. You feel your cheeks heat up and you don’t really know if it’s because of Jungkook’s hard gaze on you or the feeling of Yoongi’s hands on your hands. You quickly turn away, missing the way the man in the booth pokes his tongue into a cheek.

You try to kick Yoongi in the shin but he manages to block your foot with his knee. He tuts at you disapprovingly. You watch him with a petulant frown as he rubs the cream into the back of your hand, between your knuckles, over each of your fingers. It feels expensive, though you would expect nothing less from Min Yoongi. The cream soaks into your skin right away, unlike that body lotion of yours that was obviously not made for this purpose.

“You’re so overreacting over nothing,” you tell him.

“No, I’m not. Y/N, your hands were starting to look like coconut shavings,” he says casually, still focused on being your self-appointed hand masseuse it seems. “Is he looking?”

“What?”

“Jungkook,” Yoongi clarifies, his eyes darting up to your face for a brief second. “Is he looking?”

You exhale through your nose. “He was,” you say flatly, quite displeased with his shenanigans. “Yoongi, I told you not to do shit like this.”

His movements gradually slow. You don’t think there’s any more product on the surface left to absorb anyway. “I’m not doing this because of Jungkook, I promise,” he says, not pulling away just yet, letting his skin linger on yours. His head is still tilted downward, his gaze seemingly glued to where his thumb is swiping over your fingers. Jungkook used to do this too - absentmindedly playing with your fingers. It’s cute, and you hate to admit that the little things like this make you feel warm. You clench your jaw just once. Maybe it’s a guy’s thing.

For a moment, you actually think that he’s being sincere. About what, you don’t know. Then Yoongi looks up at you, eyes crinkling as he grins. “But pissing him off is definitely a huge plus.”

“You’re insufferable,” you tell Yoongi, rolling your eyes and shoving him away with your now moisturized hands. You gotta be honest, they do look and feel a lot better. Maybe you should pick some lotion up after work. You won’t tell Yoongi this, but you tried the exact one he just used on you a while back, in a store, and it smelled so good that you thought about it for two whole weeks. But when you saw the price tag, you immediately recoiled. It was one of the brands wherein the products were more expensive than the city’s median rent, so no wonder Yoongi would be the one to have something of theirs. Different tax brackets, you think.

Yoongi stumbles a little from your push. When he stands up, he takes one of your hands again, opening your palm and placing the tube there. “Use it every night before bed,” he instructs, like he’s a pharmacist and you’re just someone waiting to pick up their prescription.

“What?” You look at him, so serious and kind of offended. “Yoongi, I am not using your old shit!”

He sighs, wrapping your fingers around the tube so you would hold it there. “I don’t even use hand cream. I got that for you yesterday.”

Jungkook is so done. It’s been such a long week and it’s only the first day of the fucking week. After feeling so utterly helpless around you, losing to Yoongi and then watching Yoongi have his little moment with you right in front of him, Jungkook fully intends to drive straight to Jimin’s and raid his liquor cabinet until he gets a grip and figures out what to do on the you front. Especially since you called him out like that.

Jungkook hasn’t been able to focus in over an hour, after you left to go home, but he’s still cognizant enough to save the bits that he and Seokjin recorded earlier. He has witnessed how pissed Namjoon can get when they lose files due to carelessness, and no matter how level-headed his mentor usually is even in the most stressful of situations, Jungkook absolutely does not want to be on the receiving end of Namjoon’s scoldings when the man lets anger get the best of him.

Jungkook glances at the corner that you usually occupy with your nose buried in your notebook. It’s so empty in here; everyone else has already left. He sits there, heavy with so many realizations all at once. It feels like college all over, only this time, he isn’t just a stupid kid with a crush and a weird way of showing affection. He’s hurting you again. No matter what he does, he just keeps making it worse for you and him.

You were right, and it must’ve taken a lot for you to say what you said to him. It was crazy, and foolish, and most of all cruel for Jungkook to think he could patch things up with a smile. He knew how devastated he left you. Didn’t need to see the mess he made to know how much it fucked you up. Didn’t need anyone to tell him – even though his friends all tried – to know how unbelievably heartless it was to abandon the person who loved him the most. But back then, he believed he was doing the right thing. That’s how he coped with it, by trusting that it was the best decision he could make at the time.

He still remembers that day like it was merely 24 hours ago.

The obliviousness in your voice when he told you he was coming over to talk and you said you had exciting news to share. The way he had cried in the car on his way over, pulled himself together just long enough to say “I’m breaking up with you,” and watched your eager smile drop. He could practically feel your heart in his open palm, crumbling to nothing as he gave it back to you. Like he was saying “I don’t want it anymore.” He remembers crying again on the drive after.

Everything is different now, but if he could go back, even with the knowledge of the fallout, he would still choose to do the same.

There was no point in telling Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok, or just about anyone, why he felt like he had to do it. They would’ve just called him stupid and told you. He’s sure that if you knew then, you would try to reason with him, maybe you would even beg. And if you had begged him to stay, then there was no way he could follow through.

Jungkook locks up the studio and leaves. When he passes Jihyo at the reception, he hears her call his name but he pretends that he doesn’t. He’s too tired for this tonight. He just wants a drink, and he just wants to see you even though you were with him all day.

Skipping the parking lot for now, Jungkook walks to the nearby store, wanting to bring something over to Jimin’s or else the older man will just grumble at him for coming empty handed. When he rounds the corner, he sees you walking by yourself in the small park across the street. Your hands are shoved in your pockets while you stare up at the starless night. Jungkook thinks you should belong in a painting.

He stands there curiously. If you looked straight ahead, you would see him. But you seem preoccupied with the clouds floating through the dark blue, too lost in thought to notice much. Your hand comes up when something lands on your face. A second later, Jungkook feels something wet and cold against his cheek too. He remembers.

He pulls out his phone, fiddles with it for a minute as he contemplates, and ultimately decides to tap on your name in his contacts. Pressing the device against his ear, he listens to it ring, and watches you fish your own phone from your bag. He takes note of the furrow between your brows, the fleeting clench of your teeth. He almost thinks you wouldn’t pick up, but you do.

“Hello?” you answer uncertainly.

“Hey,” Jungkook says, “where are you?”

“Uhm…” There’s a pause. He wonders if you would lie. “Just out getting some air. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just… in front of you right now.”

Confusion overtakes your features. When your gaze crosses the street to land on him, you let out a small Oh, and give him a small awkward wave. He ends the call and rushes over, even though he doesn’t know what to say to you. He watches you wince, because you always hated whenever he jaywalked. It makes him smile a little.

“Hi,” you say as Jungkook stands in front of you.

“Hi,” he returns. “Mind if I join you?”

You stare up at him for a few seconds before deciding, “Yeah, sure.”

“What are you still doing here? You left like two hours ago,” he says. You walk together further into the park, where lonely lamp posts dimly light your path.

You shrug. “I went to get dinner and just… I don’t know. Felt like I could use some fresh air.”

“In this weather? It’s snowing.”

You both watch the breath that you huff out. “Well, it didn’t start snowing until you got here.”

The first snow, or just snow in general, is never as romantic as they make it seem in the movies. Sure it’s pretty, and when the ground is covered in a thick blanket of snow, it makes for a good Instagram story. But in reality? Snow is so fucking dirty, and when it starts melting, it is absolute hell for everybody. Your weather app didn’t say that it would snow today, but you should’ve known better than to trust that damn thing.

Jungkook hums, and silence falls over you like the snow, making everything so damp and gross. You hope it stops soon.

When some snowflakes land directly on your cheek, you wipe the moisture away with mild annoyance. “I hate snow,” you grumble, pulling your scarf tighter. If you had known that it would snow, you would’ve worn something with a hood and your sturdier boots.

Jungkook chuckles lightly as he watches you hiss when some snowflakes land on your head, startling your skin with its frost and slowly dampening your hair. “You don’t hate it,” he says. “You just hate it when you’re walking in the snow. I know you.”

The universe doesn’t give you time to dwell on that last comment. The ground beneath you turns slippery as you keep walking. You yelp loudly when your sneaker-clad feet skid on the thin ice sheet that the snow has created. You’re fully prepared for your ass to hit the pavement and consequently bruise in about half an hour, but Jungkook catches you with both hands on your waist, pulling you flush against him so you don’t hit the ground. Unlike you, his shoes have more traction.

Your heart hammers from the suddenness of the last thirty seconds. You can see each heavy breath that leaves your mouth and promptly dissipates into the cold air. You don’t realize that your hands are gripping his shoulders to help steady yourself, as if he doesn’t already have his arms wrapped securely around you, and you realize then that wow, this is the closest he’s been to you in years. It’s unbearable just how much you’ve missed being in his arms.

Just two people on an empty street, tangled up in each other, the falling snow your only audience – you look like you’ve landed yourself right in a romance drama, but in reality, this is anything but that.

You clear your throat and shuffle backward, out of his strong hold, careful not to trip and make a fool of yourself any more than you already have. “Thanks,” you say. “I should head home. It’s getting late.”

Jungkook nods. “Do you want to walk back to the company? I can give you a ride home.”

You consider this. The street is steadily being swallowed up by layers of white, and you don’t doubt that it will only be more difficult to navigate the road by yourself as the night gets darker and colder. Cabs are running more sparsely. It would take you forever to get home, especially in weather that makes you feel like a calf learning to walk for the first time.

“Yeah,” you agree, “sure, okay.”

The walk back to the building’s parking lot is mostly silent, and so is the ride to your apartment. You’ve never felt the first snow on your skin before, having always preferred to stay indoors on nights forecasted to experience snowfall. There’s something so wistful about witnessing the inauguration of winter yourself, how these delicate flowers of ice not only herald the ending of a season and the beginning of a new one, but also signal that another chapter of your life is about to close forever. It prompts you to mull over the last 12 months, to see if you’ve accomplished anything you set out to achieve or if you’ve wasted an entire year of your life. To share a moment like this with Jungkook makes you wonder if the universe is trying to send you a sign.

When the car stops at a red light a few blocks away from your place, you take the time to watch the snowflakes twirling outside the window. They wander in front of you, free yet aimless, like they’re asking if they could come in and seek refuge from the freezing cold. Not knowing warmth would be the thing that kills them. Adrift with the gentle wind until they land on the glass, only to die a mere second later. You break the silence.

“It’s kinda nice now,” you say, eyeing the marshmallow-looking ice that’s starting to pile up all around while you’re sheltered by the warmth of his car.

“See?” Jungkook chuckles. “Told you you only hate snow when you have to walk in it.”

“Hmm.” It’s true. You don’t want to admit it, but he did know you. Knew what drove you and what made you tick. Knew how your brain worked and how your heart moved. Knew that you loved him long before you could say it out loud.

Even when you lied that he doesn’t know you anymore, deep down you’re very well aware that he still does.

“Can I ask you this one thing, though?” you say calmly, but something must alert him that you aren’t looking to talk about the weather or some other meaningless shit. Jungkook doesn’t give you a verbal answer, nor any other indication that you can go ahead and voice your question. He just looks at you before the light turns green, like he doesn’t really want you to ask anything but he has no other choice but to let you. Like he’s scared of what you might demand from him.

It’s okay. You weren’t asking for permission anyway.

“Did I…” love you enough? Was there a single moment where you thought I didn’t love you? “Back then,” you swallow, keeping your eyes on the snowy streets that turn into ivory blurs as the car starts moving again, “did I ever make you feel like you weren’t enough?”

Your ears don’t pick up on much sound in the infinite pocket of seconds that follows. Not the low hum of the car’s radiator, nor the wind that becomes harsher right outside the window. Just his breathing and the beat of your own heart, drowning in the anticipation of his answer.

What if he says yes? Would it mean that after all this time that you spent blaming him, it’s been your fault all along? Were you the one that drove him away?

“No,” he says, interrupting that voice in your head. “Not once.”

You don’t doubt that he’s telling you the truth, but it doesn’t make you feel better. His tone tells you there’s more than he’s letting on, but it doesn’t matter now. Before Friday night, Taehyung had asked if you would ask Jungkook the question, and after some consideration, you had said no. Maybe if it were a couple of years ago, or even a few months back when you saw him again, you would have said yes. You used to think that if he ever came back for whatever reason, the first thing you would ask him is why. You would confront him, demand an answer, make him walk you through every single thought he had before he decided to ruin your life.

But no answer could change the fact that he did leave. There is no excuse good enough to justify how he left you so completely crushed. Sure, knowing would give you some of the closure that you were desperately seeking at one point, but what if it makes everything worse? What if he left because he was looking for something, something more than you could give? What if he found it, only to realize then that it wasn’t worth leaving you for after all?

Now, at least you know that your efforts were felt. You did the best you could, loved him the best way you knew how.

The man beside you clears his throat. You only notice now that Jungkook has already pulled up in front of your building. You haven’t spoken much before tonight, not about what happened at Jimin’s party. You weren’t sure how to bring it up, or if you should even bring it up. He seemed like he was trying to avoid the topic too. You had the weekend to relive every moment of that night over and over, and you obviously don’t want to talk about it, but you have to address it sooner or later if you want to move forward in peace.

“Hey, uhm, about the other night…” you start.

He stiffens a bit, and then sighs. “I know,” he says. “You were right. It’s not fair of me to–”

“I’m sorry,” you cut him off firmly. “Some of the things I said were harsh, and I’m sorry.”

Jungkook looks at you in surprise. His ears must deceive him, because, “Why are you apologizing?”

“I told you. I was harsh and it was uncalled for.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he says, frowning. He twists his body to face you. “I deserved it. You were right to call me out. Don’t backtrack.”

You stare at him with your lips pursed. “Why are you trying to argue right now?”

“Because I deserve your rage. Be mad at me.”

“I am mad at you,” you tell him but there’s no bite. You’re softening, loosening your grip while he’s the only one trying to hold on. “But I don’t want to be anymore.”

“Why not? You should. You have every right.”

“Jungkook, it’s been five years,” you chuckle without much humor, thinking back to what you’ve been doing in the last half a decade. Stalking your ex online, mourning your lost love every time he gets into a new relationship, holding out hope. And for what? What’s the point of it all? It’s not like you and him are going to get back together again. It’s a waste of time, time that you could spend trying to let him go and move on, whether he gives you that closure or not. “I’m tired and I just want to get on with my life. I don’t want to keep being bitter about it. What good will that do?”

His face is so serious all of a sudden, like he wants you to actually scream at him. Curse him out. Anything. “Then what do you want me to do?”

“Don’t feel like you have to make amends, or do anything right by me. Can we just, I don’t know, let the past remain in the past? I don’t want to make our friends feel like they have to act a certain way around me when it comes to you. It’s my problem, not theirs. I don’t want to make them uncomfortable anymore. So please, I’m not asking for anything else. I just want us all to… move forward.”

It’s then that he sees, oh, maybe you do belong in a painting. Sitting right in front of him but you’re so far away. He was once the artist but now, he’s merely a spectator. “Do you mean that?” he asks quietly.

“Yes, Jungkook. I’m really tired,” you say. “Why would you of all people want to be reminded of what happened?”

He swallows thickly. You can tell that he isn’t too fond of the idea, even if what you’re proposing gives him a way out. It lets him off the hook. But for some reason, he’s hesitant to take it, might be resisting it even. You can’t bring yourself to understand why, but eventually, he says, “Okay. If that’s what you really want.”

He doesn’t put up much of a fight, though it doesn’t exactly sound like an affirmation, but who even cares?

“Right, then,” you mumble, unbuckling your seatbelt and gripping the strap of your bag. “Good night. See you tomorrow.”

He says it back, and lets you go with a strained smile.

Yoongi’s fingers tap on his knees to the beat of the music playing in the background. You were surprised when he called you on a Saturday, asking if you were free, telling you that he had something to say. You didn’t have any plans and Yoongi said he was treating you, and well, you don’t need to be convinced further.

Here you are, in a fancy restaurant, sharing a tiramisu with Min Yoongi. How nice. You thought he’d have better plans than just hanging out with little old you.

“Will you please just tell me now?” you say, looking at him with playful puppy dog eyes. You take another bite of the dessert, and practically have to stifle a moan when the sweetness melts in your mouth. You honestly think you have romantic feelings for this tiramisu. “I’ve been waiting for like two hours.”

Yoongi swirls the wine in his glass before he brings it to his lips and takes a sip, all the while looking at you, so happy with the treat that you’re supposed to share but he doesn’t even touch. When he sets his glass down, he calls your name, making you glance up.

“Do you still… y’know… Jungkook?”

You stare at him back, confused. “Do I still I know Jungkook?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Don’t make me spell it out. You’ll just beat me if I say it.”

“Oh, so it’s something annoying then? Then please, keep it to yourself.”

“Okay, then,” he says, smiling so obnoxiously because he knows you’re too curious.

Give it a minute.

“Oh my god, fine,” you give up, drawing out the sentence exasperatedly. “Do I still what Jungkook?”

Yoongi regards your face teasingly. “Do you still have feelings for him?”

Your entire body goes rigid. You don’t even try to hide the way your face falls upon hearing his question. What’s the point? He’ll just see right through you anyway.

“You took me out to dinner just to ask me that?”

He nods. “Yeah, among other things.”

“I mean…” You set down your spoon. No one has ever asked you that before, and it’s not a question that you yourself have considered. Jungkook still affects you, that much is clear. Thinking about your relationship still affects you. Does that mean that you have lingering feelings for him? You’ve yet to solve this, and truth be told, you aren’t sure if you would like the conclusion it leads you to. You give Yoongi a vague answer, because even you yourself don’t know what the truth is. But it doesn’t matter, now that you’ve made the active decision to let it all go. “I’m trying to move on.”

“Hmm.” He doesn’t seem very satisfied with your choice of words. “Do you still hate him then?”

This, you don’t really need to ruminate much on. “I think part of me will always hate him for what he did.” And part of you will always love him in spite of what he did.

Yoongi leans forward with both of his arms on the table, contemplating how he should word this. You deserve flowery words and romantic grand gestures, but alas Yoongi is blunt, and sometimes rough around the edges. He has great timing too. Just as you raise a glass of water to your mouth to soothe your dry throat, he says, “Let me be your revenge dick.”

It makes you choke, sending water down every wrong pipe as you cough harshly. It dribbles down your chin and a few drops plop! onto your light wash jeans. You’re glad it wasn’t wine. You would’ve killed him if he made you stain your newly bought trousers. While you try to hold onto dear life, he has the audacity to fucking laugh. When you kick his shin under the table, he hands you a few napkins. It takes you another minute to calm down.

“What the actual fuck?” you hiss. The little “incident” earns you a few weird looks from people sitting nearby. It’s so embarrassing, but Yoongi is acting like it’s the funniest shit he’s ever seen.

“Let me be your revenge d–”

“I heard you the first time, Jesus Christ. Please don’t say the word “dick” to me ever again. In fact, please stop talking altogether. Please don’t open your mouth ever again.”

He does not abide by your request, opening his stupid mouth again and thus cementing his place as your least favorite person in the entire world right this minute. You lost half your brain cells listening to that one singular sentence. Jesus fucking God. Who in their right mind would utter something like that? And to you, no less? Fuck. Men.

One of these days, you swear you will pop an aneurysm. It’s so ridiculous that it’s not even funny. But Yoongi just keeps talking like you’re asking him to elaborate.

“What I’m saying is… use me.”

“For what?” You’re genuinely so perplexed as to what the point of this conversation is, or where it’s even going. This man has a way of surprising you more and more each day.

“For revenge dicking purposes.”

You do your best to suppress a shudder. Where did that term even come from? “Oh my god, why do you keep saying that? We’re in public! What if someone hears you?!”

The man sitting across from you grins, showcasing his pearly whites, clearly very amused by your reactions. “You gotta show Jungkook what he’s missing. Make him regret it.”

“Min Yoongi,” you say slowly. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“No. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been this serious,” Yoongi answers. “Let me be your arm candy. I’m very good at that.” You’re very curious about who raised him and how he turned out to be this way. You can’t believe you have to tolerate him sometimes.

You give it another minute before you say, “I’ll have you know that Jungkook and I had a very productive talk. We’re in a much better place now, so your… whatever services won’t be necessary.”

He leans back, eases up, and stares at you thoughtfully. Like he doesn’t really believe you. Like the cogs of his mind are once again turning. “Okay, that’s even better. I don’t have to be the rebound. I can just be your main piece.”

Looking at him pleadingly, you bemoan, “Yoongi, why are you doing this to me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“It absolutely is not obvious!”

“Seriously?”

You cross your arms, raising an annoyed eyebrow at the man. “Listen, I don’t know what kind of people you’re hanging out with, but my friends don’t go around offering to–”

“Because I like you.”

You could practically facepalm. As he stares at you, not even blinking anymore, you reach for the salt shaker on the table to pour some onto your hand. When he opens his mouth to ask what you’re doing, you flick the miniscule white crystals in his direction.

“Wha–”

“Yoongi, I can’t believe you wasted a whole evening for that lame ass joke.”

“Did you really just…” He throws his head back, laughing in both disbelief and amusement. “Wow. You tell a girl you like her and she throws salt at you. That’s definitely a first for me.”

“It’s not funny. Stop saying that.”

“Stop saying what?”

“Stop saying you like me!”

“But I do like you,” he says, voice softer now. “I’ve always liked you.”

You mentally groan, sucking your teeth before you reach for the salt again. He grabs your wrist before you could hold it up.

“Quit it and listen to me. I’m serious.”

When you look at Yoongi, he’s wearing an expression you don’t think you’ve often seen, or ever seen before. There’s no trace of that familiar teasing smile that’s almost always on his lips, nor the mischievous glint in his eyes that he usually sports. This side of Yoongi is new to you. This side of Yoongi makes you hold your breath for some reason.

For a second there, you believe what he’s saying.

“Come on. You’re taking this too far.”

“Why do you keep thinking this is a joke? You know I would never do that, Y/N.”

You pull your hand back to pinch the bridge of your nose. “Because you keep using me to mess with Jungkook even though I’ve asked you multiple times to–”

“Can you not mention his name?” Yoongi straightens in his chair. This is the closest he’s ever come to being annoyed with you. “I’m trying to tell you how I feel and you’re thinking about Jungkook.”

You liked it better when he was cocky about it.

“You can’t possibly be serious right now.”

Yoongi purses his lips, his eyes telling you that he’s irritated with you too, only he’s much better at containing his frustration. You both stare at each other for god knows how long because neither one of you understands what the other is trying to say.

When Yoongi speaks next, his voice is so calm, so low that it makes your spine run cold.

“You were always so oblivious.”

“Oh my god, pick up, pick up, pick up,” you mutter to yourself like a deranged person on the sidewalk, telepathically urging Taehyung to answer the phone before you’ve even called him. His phone filters through your speaker after the third ring. Kim Taehyung, always so quick to answer your calls.

“What’s u–”

“Oh my god, Kim Taehyung, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, you will not believe what just happened,” you rush out in one breath. “Where are you? Are you at home? I’ll come to you. Oh my god!”

“Jesus, did you mix coffee with Red Bull again? Slow down,” Taehyung says. “I’m at Jimin’s now.”

“Oh? Okay.” This is even better. Jimin’s apartment is much closer to the restaurant than Taehyung’s place is. “Is it boys’ night? Nevermind. Doesn’t matter. I’ll come over right now. Be there in 15!”

“What? Wait, Y/N, no, Ju–!”

You hang up before he can say anything else. You bounce on your heels as you flag down a cab, so awfully restless and you just want to tell someone. On the ride over, the driver keeps glancing at you through the rearview mirror every few seconds; your nervous energy must have infected him because you look like you just found out that someone is freaking dying. When you arrive at your destination, you take a deep breath before you hurry up the stairs. Jimin’s building is old and has no elevator, which normally sucks because he lives on the fifth floor and you absolutely despise stairs. But right now, you have so much adrenaline coursing through your veins that five flights feel like a piece of cake.

You have no doubt that the men inside know it’s you from the way you ring his doorbell repeatedly. Jimin opens the door with an exasperated look, to which you pay no mind and just press a quick kiss against his cheek in greeting before you barge into his home in search of Taehyung.

“Kim Taehyung! Where are you? This is an emergency, I need y–!”

When you do find him, however, he isn’t alone. Sitting next to Taehyung on the couch and holding a bottle of beer to his lips, is none other than Jungkook. You all look at each other awkwardly as the words die on your tongue, killing some of the nerves while you bite your lip to keep your mouth shut. Jimin waddles into the living room after he shuts down the door and plops down next to Jungkook. Now there are three pairs of eyes on you.

“Oh, uhm, hi,” you say to Jungkook. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Hi,” he says, and offers you a beer on the table. “Want one?”

What you said to Yoongi at dinner wasn’t exactly untrue. You and Jungkook are kind of in a better place now. In the last few days, since you had your little chat in his car, he’s let up on the crap that he was pulling before. Something still feels off to you though. Feels like his head isn’t really in it, that he’s still doing this for the sake of trying to ease his guilt by going along with what he thinks makes you happy. Whatever. It’s at least a little progress, you suppose.

“No, that’s fine.” You wave Jungkook off before inching closer to Taehyung and pulling him up by the arm. “Uhm, I just needed to talk to Tae and I’ll be on my way!”

You drag your friend into the guest bedroom that Jimin has recently turned into an office, all the while ignoring his shout of “This better be good! Don’t forget to tell me later!” as you shut the door.

You glare at Taehyung. “Okay, why didn’t you tell me that Jungkook was here?”

“I tried to!” He raises his hands in surrender. “You hung up on me. I texted you about it.”

You rummage through your bag for the phone that you so hastily shoved in there before getting into the taxi. The notification on your screen glares back at you.

[21:42] Taebear 🐻: jungkook is here btw. dunno if you’re cool with that

“Right…” you mutter. “My bad.”

“Well?” Taehyung prompts, then his face turns worried as he gives you a once-over. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

You inhale deeply, holding onto his wrists and staring him dead in the eye. Even with the door closed and with Jungkook and Jimin all the way in the living room, you keep your voice low. “I think I just got propositioned.”

Your friend blinks slowly, or rather, he closes his eyes for five whole seconds before he opens them. Taehyung visibly relaxes when he comprehends that you are, in fact, okay and healthy, and that you’re just being overly dramatic.

He pushes your hands away. “Fuck off. I thought something bad happened.”

“Something bad did happen!”

“You are literally the worst person.”

“I’m serious!”

He groans and looks at you like a disappointed parent. “Fine,” he relents, “what happened?”

“I think Yoongi sort of pimped himself out to me today.”

Taehyung opens his mouth, closes it, and does it again a few times. “You can’t just say that and not elaborate.”

“He said he likes me.”

There comes that slow-ass, neverending blink again. Taehyung looks like the meme, like he’s seeing the world in nothing but equations.

“I fail to see how that would be considered pimping oneself out.”

“Well, you have to hear what he said after–”

A mop of fluffy blond hair materializes out of thin air, startling you both. You didn’t even hear him come in. That sneaky little thing. “What are we talking about?” Jimin asks, lowering his volume to match yours. “Why are we whispering?”

“Why are you here?” You look behind him at the door that he left ajar. “Where’s Jungkook?”

“He’s in the living room.”

“By himself?”

“Well, there’s no one else here, so duh.”

You exhale exasperatedly. “Now it’s gonna look like we’re talking about him.”

“Aren’t we?”

“We’re talking about Yoongi,” Taehyung says, casting his eyes to the ground briefly.

“Yoongi?” Jimin asks, glancing between you and Taehyung with a slight frown. “Your Yoongi?”

You raise an eyebrow in question. “What do you mean my Yoongi? There’s only one Yoongi. He’s the Yoongi.”

“Okay. So what’s up with the Yoongi?”

Taehyung turns to his wonder twin with an unamused look. “She’s doing that annoying thing where she gives you a single detail of the story and you have to ask her to keep going every time.”

Blondie makes a face. “Oof, yeah, that’s annoying. Don’t do that.”

You gape at the two of them. “I’m giving you tea and you’re complaining about my storytelling skills?”

You should’ve expected it, should’ve known what was coming the second that question left your mouth. The guys don’t even need to look at each other to be in sync when they echo, “Yes.”

“But seriously,” Jimin says, “what about Yoongi?”

“We went to dinner tonight and he… said he likes me…” you tell him, and physically recoil at the memory. Oh… the horror. “And he said, oh my god I can’t even repeat it without wanting to jump off a bridge, he said to let him be my revenge dick.”

Jimin gasps. Taehyung chokes on his own spit. They both sputter out, “What the fuck?”

“Right?!” you cry, still so fucking mortified by the experience. “I almost died just sitting there. I can’t believe he made me listen to that with my own two ears.”

Taehyung is the first one to turn serious. “What happened after that though?” You don’t know what you would do sometimes if there wasn’t a Kim Taehyung to ground you.

“Well, I came here.”

“So…” he drags out the single word, “you ran away from him?”

Jimin looks at you expectantly too, wearing the same question in his eyes. You frown at them. “What? No. I threw salt on him and told him to stop fucking around and then I lef– Oh my god, I did run away.”

Shit.

“Hold up, what the fuck,” Jimin cackles, like this is all just so funny. “You threw salt on him?”

You let out a nervous laugh, and point finger guns at your friends idiotically. “But it’s fine. Because obviously he didn’t mean it.”

“Why would you think he didn’t mean it?” Taehyung asks.

“He’s an annoying little shit sometimes! And,” you keep your volume under control again, “he hates Jungkook. He’s only doing it to piss him off.”

Taehyung purses his lips, regards you with a look you don’t like because you’re trying to sort through this logically, convince yourself that it isn’t real and that Yoongi is just missing April Fool’s day by four whole months. Why is your friend making this more difficult?

“Is it so hard to believe that someone can like you?”

“Yes,” you say seriously, “when that person is Yoongi.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s Yoongi!” You throw your hands up. “He’s not like us.”

“I hate to break it to you, but celebrities aren’t above having crushes.”

You look at Jimin for help, but he just shrugs, choosing silence as the neutral option or maybe staying silent is just his way of agreeing with Taehyung. This isn’t the reaction you expected when you rushed here to give him the goss. Taehyung doesn’t blindly support your every decision or try to rationalize your every move just because he’s your friend. He tells you to your face when you’re being absurd, so you really don’t get why he’s the one being unreasonable right now.

“Oh my god, please,” you say. “Yoongi absolutely does not have a crush on me.”

Jimin chimes in. “Well, he did literally just admit that to you.”

You send him a glare that says, Oh, so now you’re talking?

You turn to Taehyung again. You can’t believe this is happening. Are you two really arguing? About whether or not Yoongi actually likes you? While Jungkook is sitting by himself in another room? You bet nobody has this on their bingo card.

“I told you. He’s just trying to fuck with Jungkook.”

“Why do you keep saying that? Why do you think he’s trying to fuck with Jungkook?” Taehyung challenges.

“Because he’s my friend!” you groan. It’s the most obvious thing in the world, but no one seems to believe that Yoongi is just your friend. “You’re my friend too. But you’re being so fucking annoying now.”

He narrows his eyes at you, as if to prove a point. “Yoongi is that good of a friend that he would go out of his way to mess with someone he hadn’t even met until a couple weeks ago?”

“I– well– maybe!” you stammer, blinking up at him. The height difference is clearly not doing you any good. “He’s a very petty person. And when he isn’t being a little shit, he can be a very good friend.”

Taehyung scoffs, seriously getting on your nerves. It isn’t even any of his business. You just wanted to tell him for the sake of sharing with your best friend, not ask for his opinion on any of it. He doesn’t even know Yoongi, never even met him.

“I know what people are like when they’re in love with you,” Taehyung mutters, eyeing the ground. Jimin makes a noise and nudges his friend in the rib, shaking his head while he does so.

You, petty little you, want to fire back. “Oh, so Yoongi is in love with me now?”

Taehyung opens his mouth, prepared to continue his assault on your sanity when Jimin has to step in, waving his hands in front of you both. “Alright, that’s enough,” he says. “Why don’t we just call it a night and let’s reconvene when everybody is thinking straight, yeah?”

Taehyung doesn’t even look at you. You try to release your frustrations through a loud exhale, but it doesn’t do much. When all of you venture out into the living room to leave, you remember that Jungkook is still here. He looks at yours and Taehyung’s disgruntled expressions, then at Jimin’s face as he not-so-subtly shakes his head, silently telling him to not ask any questions. Poor guy, this was boys’ night after all. You couldn’t have spent more than 30 minutes in Jimin’s office. He was just quietly drinking his beer and watching TV out here, unaware of everything going on in the room just down the hall. Now everybody seems pissed and the night is spoiled.

You bid Jungkook and Jimin a curt goodnight before you head for the door, saying nothing to Taehyung because he clearly doesn’t deserve any pleasantries after tonight. You end up going home with more questions than answers.

You hate this. You hate it so much.

Now that you’re finally starting to actually coexist with Jungkook – of all people! – the other men in your life have to come for your head?

You haven’t spoken to Taehyung since that night, which was only three days ago, but still. It’s the longest you’ve gone without talking to your best friend. You don’t know what was up his ass, and Jimin has just been telling you to not overthink it, that Taehyung will reach out when he’s calmed down. It makes zero sense to you, because how does your situation affect him in any way? What does he even have to calm down from?

With Yoongi, on the other hand… Well, you’re still convinced that he was just being good old insufferable Yoongi. This is how he has always been – teasing, easy going, and has a good rapport with you. That night was just a fluke. Maybe he had too much to drink and didn’t know when to stop the joke from getting too carried away.

You are not fighting with Yoongi. You are not fighting with Yoongi. You remind yourself of this, so that when you see him in the studio next, everything is okay.

Yoongi arrives some time after lunch and brings everybody coffee. You expect him to be lighthearted as always, which he is, and you expect him to sit next to you as always, which he does. He laughs with Seokjin, chats with Namjoon about the art scene, pokes “friendly” fun at Jungkook every now and then. You two work side by side, bouncing ideas off each other like you normally do. He doesn’t mention the dinner, which makes you feel a whole lot better about that night because see? Everything is fine. If everything is fine with Yoongi then everything is fine with Taehyung too.

Some time around 5pm, Yoongi asks if you should all go out for drinks tonight. He gets shot down by the guys though. Apparently no one is up for after-work drinks on a Tuesday night.

“You’re no fun,” Yoongi grumbles before turning to you with hopeful eyes. “Y/N?” he whines, “Indulge me like you usually do, please?”

“No, thanks,” you decline. You glance up in time to see Jungkook quietly chuckling to himself. “Today is my self-care day.”

“Tuesday is your self-care day?”

“Because tomorrow is Wednesday. I have a pre-Wednesday routine.”

“Did I ever tell you that you’re very weird about Wednesdays?” Seokjin asks.

You hum in thought for a moment before answering him. “You did. And then you told me a really bad dad joke.”

He makes an exasperated Ahh noise as he recalls the very moment, then blasts his booming windshield wiper laugh when he remembers the joke he made. “Hey, that joke was killer!”

“It absolutely was not! The only decent one that I’ve heard from you is–”

“No, no, hey,” Yoongi cuts in, “don’t entertain him and his stupid jokes. Come onnn, you know I hate drinking alone. Go for a drink with me, princess. You used to be my drinking buddy all the time.”

“Uh huh,” you scoff. “And look where drinking with you got me.”

“I allow fraternizing in the workplace as long as I’m still the priority, guys,” Seokjin chirps in.

“That’s not what I meant,” you say quickly. “No one is fraternizing with anybody!”

Yoongi hums quietly. He drops his volume, just for your ears. “No? Is that your answer then?”

“What?” you whisper. You don’t know why you’re whispering. You just do it because Yoongi is doing it.

“You kinda ran out on me the other night.”

“I didn’t–”

He gives you a look.

“Okay, maybe I did… but only because you were being ridiculous!”

Yoongi licks his lips and tips his head toward the door. He’s the first one to stand up and head out of the room, followed by you half a minute later. You appreciate him wanting some privacy for you two to talk, but you don’t like that this is a conversation that needs privacy. You were all just joking around in there. If this is still a joke, why is he leading you out here?

Walking out the door, you hear Seokjin call after you, “Fraternizing!”

“That is not what’s happening!”

You find Yoongi in the empty breakroom, leaning against a counter.

“You can drop it now, Yoongi,” you say.

“What?” he tilts his head, looking at you curiously. “You still think I’m messing around?”

“Obviously.”

“Why is that?” he asks. “What makes that so hard to believe?”

It’s what Taehyung asked you the other night too.

Because you’re you! is what you almost say. It’s the same answer you gave Taehyung, because, well, do you even need another explanation? You don’t tell him that though, thinking it might offend him somehow. Instead, you throw him a question.

“Okay. Sure. Let’s say that you are serious. What happened? When did you even start liking me? Why are you telling me now?”

Yoongi exhales gently, straightening up to walk closer to where you are. He stops when he’s right in front of you, looking right into your eyes and using the same voice he did that night. “I always liked you. I liked you last year when we first worked together and I like you now. The only difference is then, you weren’t trying to move on,” he says, so unwavering that it makes you stagger.

That… is not what you were expecting. You blink up as he smiles down at you fondly. You feel lightheaded. Maybe even scared, because what if he means it? He sounds too sincere for it to just be all fun and games. You remember the way he held your hand when he made you put on that stupid fancy lotion.

His voice keeps lowering, and you hate that it makes you nervous. Your stomach twists, your heart pounds against your ribs.

“If you’re moving on now, can’t you do it with me?”

Looking back now, were there signs that you should have noticed?

You stand there, processing, not knowing what you should say to him, not really even breathing anymore. Yoongi must interpret your silence as realization, recognition, because he chuckles, again amused by your reaction.

“Yoongi…”

He stops you, though you weren’t going to say anything else. You feel like you could cry. Maybe he sees it in your eyes. Yoongi pats your arm gently, still smiling. “I’ll let you sleep on it, princess.”

When he leaves the room, you keep standing there by yourself. So Taehyung was right? Your friend who has never had a single interaction with Yoongi, who has only heard about him from the stories you shared, could tell that there was something there? That Yoongi had feelings for you all along?

At the dinner, Yoongi said you were always oblivious.

Is it possible that you really had no idea, or did you just force yourself to look the other way?

That night, was he hurt? After you repeatedly dismissed him and eventually walked out?

Oh, Yoongi…

When someone enters the room after you’ve been standing here for what feels like forever, navigating the sea of your own thoughts, you startle to life.

“You okay?” Jungkook asks, eyeing you as he goes to fix himself a cup of coffee.

“Yep, mhmm,” you respond. You try to shove away all of your unraveling emotions. They could wait until later.

You have no idea why you’re still standing here, watching Jungkook make coffee with his back to you, but that’s arguably a better idea right now than to go back to the studio where Yoongi is.

“You know,” Jungkook starts, pressing the buttons on the fancy coffee machine that you don’t know how to use. “I don’t think it’s very professional. Y’know, Yoongi flirting with you all the time.”

You stare at his broad shoulders with your brows furrowed, already on edge even though you don’t know what he’s referring to.

“What?”

“I don’t think it’s professional,” he repeats. “Yoongi flirting with you all the time.”

“When has Yoongi ever flirted with me?” you ask. It’s meant to sound sarcastic and defensive, hoping he’ll take the hint to back off but really, now that you’ve said it, it’s a question that you yourself would genuinely like the answer to.

“Admit it,” Jungkook says, turning around to face you. “It’s not like he tries to be very subtle about it. All the nicknames, always complimenting you, even when he put his hands all over you the other day right in front of us! There’s no way that you’ve missed the way he looks at you sometimes.”

You blink a few times, not sure if you heard him right. You hope your brief silence gives him a chance to backtrack when he sees how offended you are, but he just stares at you. Jungkook really does have the worst timing, and it doesn’t take long for your anger to overflow. Moving forward together in peace lasted a whole week, huh?

“Even if Yoongi is flirting with me, how is it any of your business?”

“It kinda is my business, though, isn’t it? Considering he does it at my place of work.”

Oh, he’s gotta be kidding.

“Okay, it’s your place of work,” you hiss. The steam rising from his fresh mug of coffee might as well resemble the cartoon-like smoke churning from the top of your head. Jungkook seems taken aback by your reaction, but honestly, what the hell did he even expect when he said something like that to you? “So you fucking the receptionist must be so professional, right?”

Paling about a hundred shades, he looks like you just poured a bucket of ice cold water over his head. The gulping throat, the parting lips, the guilty eyes and his whole demeanor exuding shock and embarrassment, because Jungkook didn’t know that you knew, let alone foresee that you would throw it in his face. He stands there, dumbfoundedly muttering, “How– Who told you about that?”

You ignore his question. Why does it even matter who told you? If you were less angry, you would be more curious as to how he thought this was going to go. Why would he say something like that out of nowhere?

He said he deserved your rage? He wanted you to be mad? Fine. Be careful what you wish for.

You feel sick to your stomach and he would come to you and say shit like that. Like Jungkook can dictate anything about your life. Like he has the right to fuck things up and leave when he’s had his fun.

Your sinuses burn when you speak next. “You don’t see me running to you, whining about how Jihyo always looks at me like she wants to gouge my fucking eyes out. How she’s always so nice and bubbly to everyone but then when it’s me, she acts like I ran over her fucking dog.”

Yeah, he definitely wasn’t expecting this reaction.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“No, just save it. You talk a big game about trying to do right by me and then you go and say shit like this. How many times do I have to tell you? I’m so fucking tired.”

People often say that you should never make decisions when you’re angry. No one wants to end up regretting something they said or did in the heat of the moment. You’ve always thought that this is good advice, and you always try to live by it because you know your temper can get the best of you sometimes.

The keyword here, though, is try.

You run a hand through your hair, feeling infuriated at this point because Jungkook keeps fucking explaining himself, even though he’s the one who started this whole thing. You can’t even properly hear what he’s saying, all of his words going into one ear and out the other. Something about it not meaning anything and ending it with her months ago.

You take a deep breath and look into his panicked eyes.

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite.”

You think he’s apologizing again, from the way his lips form the words I’m sorry, but your pulse is ringing so loud in your ears that you don’t really catch the sounds. The anger inside of you still simmers despite having spilled over. Your face is so eerily calm that you hope it scares him. When you turn on your heels to leave, you know he’s following you back to the studio. You sit back down beside Yoongi but you don’t meet his eyes. You keep your gaze trained on the open notebook, nursing that anger.

You should’ve known that there’s no moving forward with Jungkook. If anything, he just wants to tie you to the past and never let you leave. Is he that immature, that selfish that even after all this time, after what he did, he can’t stand the idea of you and someone else?

You briefly make eye contact with Jungkook from across the room before you turn to Yoongi, your voice loud enough for everyone to hear.

“On second thought, that drink does sound nice,” you tell him with a smile. “Pick me up at 9?”

902 notes · View notes

ofsappho · 10 months

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treehouse, chapter 2 🔞 (also available on ao3)

Dream of the Endless | Lord Morpheus x reader pregnancy fic

A doctor’s appointment and a dream.

i decided to prioritize putting this story up on tumblr after ao3 went down for 2 days. so here's the second chapter! i'd hate for this fic to be permanently lost

So Dream didn’t end up leaving his number. Or social media, or really any way to contact him.

You’d checked the notepad by your door, flipped through page after page on the off chance Dream hid something in the very back.

Nothing.

Except for a doodle - a hastily drawn scribble of a raven. You remember the clever little raven outside of the club the night before. Matthew. Cute.

But he was still gone without a word.

So you moped around your apartment for more than a few weeks, only leaving for groceries and whenever your friend prodded at you to leave and accompany them to a bookstore or Shakespeare in the park.

It’s been a very, very, very long time since you’d even interacted with someone with more than friendship in mind, much less gotten dicked down. A year and some months, if your memory is correct. No matter. You pull your mind away from the specifics of that.

Can anyone blame you for being hung up on someone like Dream?

He’s like your teenage Byronic hero dream on steroids. And sometimes, when you close your eyes, you feel like you’re looking in his eyes again, blazing blue fire even in your memories.

If it weren’t for the hickies lining your skin, the ache between your legs, and that little raven sketch, well. You would’ve thought you dreamed him up.

You historically don’t handle abandonment well, even though you know he did nothing wrong, and you hold no resentment. It’s not his fault you have trauma. So you keep to your room, filling the white noise in your brain with television and music and anything at all to keep yourself from thinking of him.

You’re lonely. You hadn’t realized until he’d lit up your life, just for that one night, but you’re lonely. Aimless. For some reason, that encounter with Dream reminded you of all the hopes and longings you shoved to the side in the interest of survival. Which, at the time, entailed whatever work you could get and a roof over your head. A social life was a secondary concern at best.

Well, you’ve achieved those things now.

But you still feel hollow and empty—a shell of the person you wanted to be ten years ago.

You wanted to be happy. You wanted to be surrounded by a family of your own making, one that loved you as much as you loved them.

Your friend Willow is lovely, but they have their own life, their kids. Not much room for you.

For once, you’d tasted feelings far beyond what you’d allowed yourself to feel for so long. And now, you’re not sure you can go back to an empty house and a life tinted in black and white and grey.

You keep up with your therapy appointments, and your therapist recommends you continue putting yourself out there after such an unexpected social success with your one-night stand. Maybe she’s right; perhaps you should actually just get over your issues with being a part of the world and move on with your life properly.

Unfortunately, your plans to do that today (Willow bothered you over text about some local witch faire they wanted to go to and insisted you come with and maybe make some new friends) are stalled by how shitty you feel when you wake up that morning.

Like, ‘someone hit you with a truck’ kind of feeling shitty.

You’re exhausted, which doesn’t make sense because you slept past your alarms, and your whole body aches. A migraine threatens to black out your vision when you sit up.

You’ve been taking care of yourself on your own for long enough now that typically you can manage all the things you dislike without help; making doctor’s appointments, waiting in line at the pharmacy. Phone calls suck no matter how often you force yourself to make them.

But you can’t seem to drag yourself out of bed this time.

Thankfully, Willow is thrilled to come over and help you. They text you that it’s about time you reached out and didn’t try to take on the world alone.

When they come to pick you up, you’ve successfully showered and thrown on a clean pair of sweatpants and a random t-shirt. That’s the only thing you feel up to wearing at the moment; your stomach is bloated like it does when you PMS, and these clothes feel like wrapping yourself up in a blanket.

PMS. Hm.

Willow fills you in on their kids’ latest shenanigans, then hands you the travel mug of hot tea their wife packed for you after you’ve buckled in next to them.

You’re late. You hadn’t noticed until today - but you’re about two weeks late. You’d taken your placeholder pills on schedule, per your prescription, but the depressive episode had such a grip on you that you’d completely forgotten about your period.

While Willow waits at a stoplight, you interrupt the stream of questions about your well-being. “I’m late.”

The light turns green. You guys are about ten minutes out from the nearest urgent care that takes your (admittedly shitty) health insurance. “How late?” Willow says evenly, their calm demeanor a sharp contrast to the storm raging inside your mind.

It could be nothing—just stress combined with some sort of bug. Birth control pills mess with your cycle, to begin with; that’s why you must take the placebos.

You try not to focus on the other possibility. You don’t even want to name it - irrationally, you fear that naming that outcome will make it true.

The California sun streams through the car windows. The warmth feels nice on your face, comforting and lulling you into a daze. It’s not a super convenient time to drift off, but you’re sapped of all your strength, your fight.

Willow needs to nudge you to pull you out of your car-ride-induced trance. “Um- two weeks. I think,” You reply. Then you need to repeat yourself; an ambulance driving past with its alarms blaring had blocked out what you said.

Your friend nods without taking their eyes from the road, light catching in their dyed purple hair. “I wouldn’t be worried. We’ll see what the doctor says, okay?”

“Okay.”

You can see the parking lot from here, and Willow turns in to look for a spot. “Finish your tea. You won’t feel any better if you’re dehydrated.” Neither of you acknowledges the elephant in the room - that the nurse will almost certainly order a pregnancy test.

You drain the carafe. The peppermint and honey settle your stomach and gives you enough energy to get out of the car and face urgent care. Ugh. You despise going to the doctor.

It’s not the nurse’s fault this sucks. You feel bad that you can’t muster more enthusiasm to answer her fairly-standard questions, but the fluorescent overhead lights kick your migraine into high gear.

“When was the date of your last period?”

You explain the situation; that you’re late, but you’re on the pill, and you’ve been stressed out recently, so sometimes these things just happen.

To her credit, she has a wonderful bedside manner and doesn’t blink twice. “That’s fine. We’ll get you checked out. I’ll have to ask you to provide a urine sample for me after I’m done taking down all your information if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, I can.” You fiddle with the torn edge of the paper they’ve laid out on the exam chair to focus on your breathing. Maybe you should ask for Ibuprofen or something for your headache. But it might fuck up your blood pressure or something, and then you’d have to come back. Nope. Absolutely not.

“And I assume you’ve recently been intimate with at least one male sexual partner? Did you use any other forms of contraception, and would you like us to run a full STD panel?” She’s doing her best not to sound judgmental, and you know she isn’t, but the questions still sound rude. The nurse is doing her job, you tell yourself. She needs to pry.

You sigh. “Just the one, yeah. And we were only… intimate once. Almost four weeks ago. I haven’t done anything like that in over a year, and nothing else since. We kind of, you know, forgot about other forms of contraception? We thought the pill would be enough. And a full panel would be wonderful, thank you.” You’ve learned your lesson about letting your hormones lead you astray; if there’s ever a repeat hookup like this, which you highly doubt, you will most certainly be getting a condom involved—and negotiating the encounter beforehand.

You might have been more cautious with someone else, more level-headed, but Dream had made you wild and carefree. And desired, worthy. Seen.

It was an intoxicating combination. He’s unlike anyone you’ve known, and you’re sure you won’t meet anyone like him again.

“Alright, not a problem. Are you on any medications?”

You clear your throat before continuing. “A few. For my… mental health. Um, Lamictal, Seroquel, Prozac…”

After making her last notes on her iPad, the nurse moves to one of the cupboards to pull out a clear container. “Got it. Alright, I need you to go to the bathroom down the hall…”

And with all of those tasks done, you wait.

You can hear things happening outside the examination room. Beeping, hushed whispers, footsteps on squeaky clean linoleum. Maybe they’ve forgotten about you here. Even when you close your eyes, you can’t block out the white lights reflecting off the equally white walls, blinding you even when you try to imagine that you’re literally anywhere else.

Your stomach roils, nausea knotting up your insides. Even your joints are protesting you being outside of your bed right now. God, you feel like shit.

A tall woman walks in, cloaked in neatly-pressed scrubs. She looks friendly, too, and her demeanor takes the edge off your anxiety. “Hi there, I’m Dr. Chang, the doctor on staff today. I’ll be taking a look at you if that’s alright. I’m sorry to hear that you haven’t been feeling well.”

She checks all the things you expect her to. Her stethoscope is chilly on your skin as she listens to your heart, and it sends a shiver through you. Then she checks your throat and feels your stomach. “I agree; this does appear just to be some bloating. I recommend you try some ginger tea when you get home.”

Before she can continue, the nurse from before knocks and lets herself in, handing over a paper printout with some whispered words.

“So we just received the results of your pregnancy test, and it came back positive. Congratulations. I believe four weeks along, per the date of your last period.”

Your hands press up against your stomach. You’re pregnant. Actually pregnant. There’s nothing you can feel, not yet, but the world seems to have shifted in the blink of an eye. Everything- everything is different. “Oh.”

For a moment, you just sit there in shock, completely silent and trying to wrap your head around the news. There’s a fetus growing inside of you right now, as you think of it. Before you do anything else, you quickly shoot Willow a text and set your phone to silent, knuckles white as you clench it. Almost hard enough to break the case protector, you remind yourself. You have to be careful, especially as you can’t afford to replace it right now. So you slowly relinquish your death grip. With effort.

The doctor pauses, waiting to see if you say anything else. When she realizes you’re still listening, just unable to put together coherent words, she nods and continues. “From what I understand, you aren’t currently in a relationship with the father?”

Dream. If only that asshole had left his number like he said he would.

This is all too much, too soon. Like, fuck, you still can’t believe your suspicions were right. Maybe you manifested this or some shit. Ugh.

But you can’t linger on that any further, not when you have to figure out what to do next.

There’s no sense in raging against the inevitable. You’ll be alone in this, no matter how much you wish you weren’t. So you put him out of your mind. He’s gone. “No, no, I’m not. I have no way of getting in contact with him. So he won’t be a factor in any of this.” Practicality wins your internal struggle between what priorities should be in which order.

Whatever decision you make next will be for no one but yourself. If Dream wanted a say in it, perhaps he should’ve stuck around.

It is what it is. For now, you put him away in your head. You can revisit your spite, bitterness, and panic when you’re not in public.

“Well, alright. If that’s the case, then you have two options. You can continue with the pregnancy, in which case you need to schedule an ultrasound in a month with an obstetrician, we can provide a reference if you need one, or if you’d like, you can terminate the pregnancy.”

“Terminate?”

The doctor nods. “Yes, you are early enough in gestation that we would be able to prescribe a medical abortion if you chose to terminate the pregnancy.” Her tone remains clinical and nonjudgmental. You can tell she’ll back whatever choice you settle on. You appreciate that.

You’d always wanted a family of your own. Babies of your own. This isn’t exactly what you intended when you first made that dream years ago as a small child. You dreamed of pouring all the love you never received into someone else, someone innocent and unmarked by the world. Someone you could protect and cherish.

A little one of your own, to love you and to make you proud.

Being a young single mother is hard. And if you fuck up, you’re not the one who will pay for it. They will—your baby.

You’ve begun already to think of the fetus as your baby. Damn it.

You look up at her for the first time since the doctor told you the test results. “Thank you for giving me that option. And if I decided to go through with the pregnancy? Are the ultrasound and the OBGYN everything?”

It will be hard. Your job is barely enough to pay rent on your shitty one-room apartment and fill your fridge, much less pay for what looks to be at least another eight months of prenatal care. Baby clothes. Toys, books. College. And you’ll have to take time off to actually have the baby.

It will be so fucking difficult.

But Dream reminded you, though unintentionally on his part, that you never wanted to be stuck like this, alone and numb inside for the rest of your life. You feel a little bit of gratitude welling up between the cracks of your fear. Perhaps you’ve been waiting your whole life for a chance like this. To finally try your hand at being happy.

You hope the baby looks like him, even if the resemblance is slight.

Dream was so beautiful. Almost inhuman. And kind. Kind to you, who needed it desperately. The baby would do a lot better with his genetics instead of yours.

Maybe you’ll try to find him. You’d hire a private investigator if you had the money, which you most certainly do not, but you want to see him again. At least to tell him about the baby. No expectations for him to be involved; you won’t be beholden to any man who doesn’t want you, but at the very least, you want to look in his eyes one more time.

He’s haunting you. It’s more than a little pathetic of you, longing for a pretty stranger. But you miss him.

“Uh, no, unfortunately, there’s a little bit more to it. If you carry the pregnancy to term, you will have to come off all the medications you have listed here. Ideally, as soon as possible - you should make an appointment with your prescriber to begin a taper.”

“All of them?” You ask hesitantly.

“Yes. All of what you have listed below can increase the risk of birth defects and complications, and the Prozac, if continued through your third trimester, can result in your baby being born with neonatal abstinence syndrome, or what is better known as neonatal withdrawal.”

You haven’t been off those medications in a year and a half. They’ve kept you stable and functional. Safe. “I see.” You don’t like the person you remember being before you started taking them. That person was a terror to others and to yourself. It’s a good balance of mood stabilizers, antipsychotics, antidepressants. You need them.

But they could hurt the baby.

Withdrawal sucks, majorly, so you’ve heard. It’s not something you want to undergo for at least another few years; when you have a better job and maybe someone else to see you through it.

But you don’t have another option if you want this child. You’ll have to do it alone, and broke, and vulnerable.

You almost start crying in the examination room, but you wipe away the tears before they fall. Good. It would be so humiliating to break down in front of this stranger.

You can’t go back to the way you were before the medication, the therapy. You wouldn’t survive that. And you have a duty to be a good mother, beyond just the mechanics of having the kid. Good mothers don’t make their children suffer for their issues.

Your mind wanders back to Dream, regardless of your efforts to put him aside. You have to keep telling yourself that you know literally nothing about him. You don’t know his last name or his favorite color. But it sure would be nice if he was here with you now.

No. This is for you.

“You don’t have to make a decision today. I just wanted to provide you with all the information you need to choose. You still have time, so let us know whatever we can do to support you. Do you have any questions?”

Your voice rings out clear and strong when you answer her. “No, no. It’s okay. I’ve made my choice. I’m going to keep the baby.”

You can do it. This is something good and pure and worth fighting for.

You promise yourself that you’ll survive this. And you don’t need him. You’ve survived worse - and while you don’t believe in any gods or spirits, you’d like to see even them try and stop you.

“Alright, if you’re sure.”

“…yes. I am.”

You leave with a referral for an obstetrician appointment in a month and an armful of different leaflets of various things the urgent care wants you to know.

You didn’t tell Willow of your decision, but they take one look at your face as you get in the car, and they know. “You’re keeping the baby.”

You shouldn’t be nervous telling them - this is your best friend, the closest thing you have to family. “Yes.”

They smile, bright and proud. “Well, I always hoped you’d make Diana and I aunties one day.”

Willow promises to be there through your pregnancy and after. But they remind you not to be so proud, to not wait for things to get dire before asking for help. “We’ve always considered you one of us, but we can’t support you if you don’t tell us you need supporting.”

And for the first time, you plan to follow through on your promise to reach out. Things are looking up, and you feel hope unfurling in you, hesitant and paper-thin.

You lock your front door behind you tightly, checking once, then twice to ensure it’s secure. You’re alone, just like before. But not truly alone anymore.

It will be some time before the baby shows up on an ultrasound, and you remember the doctor telling you that the first trimester is particularly vulnerable and miscarriages are frequent. That would ruin you. You close your eyes, and you hope against hope that the little one will make it through.

And now that you’re barefoot on your old living room carpet, all the feelings you’ve been holding down come out. You sob and scream yourself hoarse, hot tears tracking down your cheeks.

You’re not sure who you’re crying for; yourself, or your baby who won’t get to have a father, or for the possibility that even if Dream knew, he would still walk away. Or worse.

You want more than anything to tell him.

Weeping is more exhausting than it seems. After you stop sniffling so loudly, you stumble into your room and quickly peel off your clothes. The nest of blankets on your mattress seems to be the optimal place to tuck yourself into, dark and soft and warm.

Sleep drags you under fast.

Full-on dreams, like this one, are rare for you. Especially ones where you find any consciousness at all. Some people are just like that; dreamless. If you’ve ever been plagued with nightmares, you never remember them.

The world around you is grey and misty. You can feel fog dampening your skin and clinging to your hair as you turn in search of a horizon. Nothing. Just an expanse of clouded sky with no end or beginning.

For the first time since you tumbled into this vision, you notice the ground beneath you. Or maybe the ground didn’t truly exist until you realized it was there. It’s solid, bits of fresh grass and stubborn weed growing together out of dark, rich soil, their brilliant green leaves bursting with dew.

It’s been a while since you’ve seen that shade of green, so full of life that you wish you could carry it with you wherever you go. Since you moved to the city, all you see now are brown, sun-baked palm trees and dead front lawns.

You feel the urge to open your hands, and when you do, sprigs of young dandelion blossoms lie in the center of your palms. Their bright, cheery yellow blooms are surreal, stolen from an Impressionist painting and plopped right in the middle of a Realist landscape.

This is a good dream. You’d happily spend the rest of the night here curled up on the earth, cushioned by young clovers as the sweet smell of wild violets washes you clean.

Admittedly, it could be better.

“You called out for me.” You turn at the sound of his voice. Dream, in the distance. Of course.

He looks more real than anything else in this place, including you, and simultaneously out of focus. Try as you might, you can’t concentrate on him enough to see him as you would in real life. He belongs here, and you don’t.

You blink, and suddenly he stands before you in the same outfit, of course; tall and proud in the dream your mind built out of memories.

You know he’s a person just like you, but Dream barely looks human here. That’s the way dreams are about other people, you think. Always a reflection of your perception and never objective.

Here his skin is pale as bone, with what looks like the North Star itself split into two and set in the hollows of his eye sockets. Dream’s mouth remains stained red, and this isn’t the time to think about him like that, to picture biting down on his flushed mouth until you draw real blood.

But this is your dream, so if you think about it, you should be able to do as you please.

His hair remains messy. Even your sleepy mind gets that correct, and you admit he looks perfect this way. Terrifying. And perfect.

It takes you a second to decide that he most closely resembles what you think a god should look like - powerful and commanding in every facet of his being. Even the way his brow furrows when you fail to answer his question is intimidating.

You have a healthy sense of self-preservation, though you ignore it most of the time. And that instinct kicks in suddenly; people on the Internet call it ‘uncanny valley.’ Dream is strange, unknown, and those qualities make you want to turn and run. But you don’t - this is your dream painted by your mind. “Hello.”

His face is more expressive in the real world. Hell, one of those statues you compared him to would emote more than he does in your dream. “You called for me.” You can hear an odd, alien tone in his voice, an out-of-place harmony.

“You didn’t leave a number behind.”

“What is it that you want?” Dream’s mouth is a furious line that grows more menacing the longer you go without saying anything. He seems about ready to unhinge his jaw or something. It shouldn’t be hot. It shouldn’t.

It is.

Of course, the version of him that lives in your imagination jumps straight to the point.

You laugh, the sound bubbling up inside of you. It spills out, loud against the silence enveloping the two of you. With it spills all your anxiety and that animal hindbrain caution. Fuck it. “Well, since I probably won’t ever find you in the real world and I’m just talking to a figment of my subconscious, it doesn’t matter. Maybe it will feel good to tell you here, though it won’t do much. I’m fucking talking to myself.” He watches you closely like you’re a threat. “I’m pregnant.”

Shock looks so out of place on his regal countenance, usually as implacable as the deep ocean. It’s comical. “You’re…”

Now, you know he heard you the first time, but you’re in the mood to be annoying. It’s not like he can do anything about it. “Pregnant. Yeah. With a fetus. A baby. Your baby. There hasn’t been anyone else, and no one since. I know it’s yours. And you’re part of my dream, so you should know that too.” The ground below your feet rumbles, and you almost lose your footing. Thankfully, you avoid faceplanting in the grass without too much flailing. Weird. When you look around, the fog seems alive, pulsing and swirling through the air in a fury. Almost like sand.

Then everything settles as if nothing happened. “I see,” He says. And the starlight in Dream’s eyes dims until he looks precisely like he did when you first met. A human, just like you. You hold back the urge to step closer and run your fingers along the arch of his cheekbone, to inhale and fill your lungs with the salt and smoke and warmth of his scent. He’s so pretty that it seems unfair. You still want him. Maybe it was a good thing he left without a word - it would be so easy to wrap your mind, life, and heart around a man like Dream.

You don’t move closer.

All it takes is a split second for your fears to roar back to life. Your dream responds in kind, conjuring up menacing, shapeless forms. Nightmares. “I’m going to keep the baby. If I see you again, you don’t need to be involved, if you don’t want. I won’t ask for child support or anything; you could be part of our child’s life. But I’m going to keep them. I’m just afraid you’d take it badly or that you’d try to take them from me. I don’t want to fight you, but I will if I must.”

You can be realistic; you likely would lose a custody battle if he decided to fuck with you. Dream’s clothes seemed ridiculously high quality and expensive, and you remember how power trailed in his shadow where he walked. You have none of that.

But you’d give the fight your all.

Your mind gives you a break and doesn’t make you get into it with him in your sleep. Your dream stays sweet and easy as one of his hands gestures towards the shadows. The nightmares flee before you realize they’re gone. “Do you wish for me to be involved?”

You still don’t fully know your answer to that.

You want what’s best for the baby. That became your priority the moment you decided to go through with the pregnancy.

“I mean. Yeah. Probably. Again, only if you want, in whatever capacity you want. I’m not exactly set up to be a single parent. But you’re me, so you should already know that. I don’t need to explain further. I won’t force you to do anything, though. This is my choice. You can’t make me change my mind.”

In your dream, he hesitates, then looks you over. “And that is all you wish? Truly?” He asks, his resonant voice echoing in your ears, overlapped with the sound of wings fluttering and the hiss of sand in the wind.

“Uh- yeah. Yeah.”

“This dream is over.”

You wake up alone. It’s tomorrow; you must’ve slept straight through yesterday after getting back from urgent care. You can’t remember what you dreamed about. Hopefully, it was something good.

friendly reminder that this does also exist on ao3 if you'd like to read ahead! you can find it here.

thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

#treehouse #sandman #the sandman #sandman comics #the sandman comics #sandman netflix #the sandman netflix #dream of the endless #lord morpheus #morpheus #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless x you #lord morpheus x reader #lord morpheus x you #morpheus x reader #morpheus x you

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pbs-theundeadmaggot · 11 months

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first love // lost between

🎶lost between by thousand below

(AU) Steve Harrington x fem!reader

[a/n] for once I'm posting regularly so enjoy it while you can lol, the next part will be out on the 6th and let me tell you it hurts writing this

[warnings?] mentions of bleeding sort of and drugs, obviously a lot of self doubt (oops)

first love masterlist here!

You were yet to talk to Steve regarding the whole “you have a girlfriend but kept it a secret from me, not to mention the fact that I’m so in love with it hurts.” Situation but luckily you were kept distracted by Eddies totally illegal but essential stash that he somehow managed to keep hidden from security. It was almost ironic really, the guy who had been single going on a couple years at least had secured himself an annoyingly beautiful and perfect girl just in time for a once in a lifetime trip to the fucking city of love. Meanwhile you, single as a pringle remained just as unwanted as you were when you were 20. If you weren’t so high you probably would’ve felt the pain but for now it just served as a reminder at the front of your mind that you simply weren’t enough and probably never would be all things considering.

Eddie had been kind enough to swap seats with you since the person you thought was your best friend ditched you unannounced to spend time with his girl. You could’ve been sick by the thought of it and in a way you were glad you wouldn’t have to witness their nauseating pda for ten hours straight even though it meant you never stood a chance with him.

By the time you’d arrived to the hotel and got yourself situated you had calmed down slightly, less hurt by the fact that he didn’t like you back and more hurt that he didn’t tell you he’d met someone. You used to tell each other everything so when did that stop?

You were about to start spiralling if it weren’t for the knock on your bedroom door and as much as you dreaded this upcoming conversation you knew it had to be done. If not for his sake then for yours. He didn’t like you back but that didn’t mean you were unlovable, maybe seeing him with someone else will help you finally move on.

Spoiler. It wouldn’t.

Opening the door with a newfound enthusiasm you were met with a jet lagged half clothed Steve, his hair damp and floppy against his forehead and his freckled face glistening with a love sick grin.

“Before you say anything I know what I did was shitty.” Waltzing in and sitting on your bed like he hadn’t trampled all over your heart, the sincerity written on his face making it difficult to stay somewhat mad at him. “I didn’t tell anyone about Becky because I didn’t want to jinx my first serious relationship in a while.” Sighing and deciding you needed a drink if you were going to remain ‘happy’ for him, you padded over to the minibar and helped yourself to the mini wine bottle conveniently placed at the front among various alcohols and refreshments.

“You hurt me.” That wasn’t a lie but he didn’t need to know the real reason why. “I thought we told each other everything.” Stopping to sip the liquid courage before continuing on. “You know I love you and just want the best for you, I mean you could’ve at least given me a head up so I could have made a better impression or something, your girlfriend probably thinks I’m a dick now.” More like you could’ve let me know you were going to break my heart before having to spend ten hours in a confined space with you. “I was really excited to spend time with you after so long. Especially before Eddie goes on tour again for the next year and Robin moves across the state with her fiancé.”

That part was true knowing that after this trip you’d all be moving on with your lives to bigger and better things than the small town of Hawkins that kept you trapped for so long. You’d be moving on to the next stage of your lives just like Nancy and Jonathan had, building families and setting down roots, fulfilling the lives you always dreamed of. Ones full of self-worth and love, not just out of obligation but because it was real.

All you longed for was someone who wanted you as much as you wanted them. Someone who would build a family with you from the ground up, someone who saw your worth and treated you right. Someone you could grow old with and eventually pass with. By the rate of things, the only thing you’d take to your grave was your never ending anxiety and fucked up view of what love really is.

The seemingly tiny room had grown silent the only noise being faint chatter outside and the hum of music playing in the background. You half expected Steve to have walked out by now, desperate to be with his lover because of course they couldn’t bear to be away from each other for more than five seconds, yet he remained clearly deep in thought and not in any hurry.

“Lets just move past this and enjoy the vacation.” Deciding to break the silence, needing Steve to leave you alone to dwell on your thoughts and remind yourself that you would be okay. You didn’t need him and he definitely didn’t need you. “Besides I owe it you to get to know your girlfriend especially because she is clearly important and special to you.” If he’d looked close enough he would’ve seen the pain behind your eyes, he would’ve read the words you’ve longed to say

I love you and I would do anything for you even if it destroys me in the process.

Instead allowing your words to burn through you like a cigarette leaving another scar on your bleeding heart as you pretended like you had been all along.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

[a/n]Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and encouraged!

other works available here!

taglist: @freezaz123

#pbs-firstlove #pbs-thedesecrated #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve harrington imagine #stranger things x reader #x reader #steve harrington stranger things #steve imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #joe keery fanfiction #joe keery imagine #joe kerry

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atalante241 · 3 years

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The reason everything went to shit is bc Wilbur felt insecure after someone started a fist fight over a dog in a Denny’s parking lot and didn’t listen when the 16yr old came out and paid everyone 50 bucks to leave

#it’s true tho #that’s literally why the election and everything after it happened #like Jack wouldn’t be trying to kill Tommy if it weren’t for the election #Wilbur wouldn’t be dead #Tommy wouldn’t have hella trauma #maybe Dream would’ve been less of a dick #tubbo would still have 2nlifes #dream smp #tommyinnit dream smp #wilbur soot dream smp #wilbur dream smp #tommy dream smp #Wilbur soot #Wilbur

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starbuckie · 3 years

Text

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing(s): college!peter parker x reader, dark!steve rogers x reader, dark!sam wilson x reader, dark!bucky barnes x reader

words: 8.1k words

warnings: DARK!FIC, SMUT 18+ (unprotected sex, foursome turned fivesome, gangbang, non-con/dub-con, daddy kink, oral M and F-receiving, spit kink, degredation kink, praise kink, creampie), age-gap (reader is in her early 20s), cheating, angst, there’s like zero fluff

summary: peter should’ve made it back to the tower for date night on time, or maybe just before he found his girlfriend being fucked by three other superheroes.

a/n: eee my first dark fic! im so so happy with the way this turned out, and even though it was a pain in my ass for nearly three months, im so hapy to share it with y’all. this idea was brought up by an anon from @mypoisonedvine’s saturday sleepover a few months back, but i switched up tony and sam bc i didn’t like the tony and peter stuff. hopefully my smut has improved from the first time i wrote it in january, and just a reminder that in no way, shape, or form do i condone rape of any kind. there’s a large difference from the page and the real world. i try to put all tw’s in the tags and warnings, but if there was something i missed please tell me. thank you to my lovely bestie @mermaidxatxheart for beta-reading(i have no fucking clue what i’d do without your help). feel free to leave a comment or two and reblog, but don’t repost anywhere or i will hunt down your ass. thank you again and please please enjoy <3

main masterlist || mcu masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

Bucky wasn’t planning to fuck Y/N as soon as he saw her.

It started with a faint mention, something Tony had thrown around along the lines of, “Parker’s bringing his girl down here tomorrow, don’t be an asshole”. He didn’t give a damn what Tony said or how he acted around Peter’s girl. Years of being thrown between gruesome mind-wiping and being half-dead, asleep in a freezer would do that to a man.

So the next day when Peter brought his girlfriend in, he was scratching his ass like a fucking ape and downing a beer with a messy bun at the nape of his neck, until he actually saw her. Neat hair, even neater laces with a sweet smile but a body that could kill. Didn’t matter that she was bundled under Parker’s hoodie and a pair of jeans- he could always admire a pretty dame, but Bucky could see that she was beyond that. It was as if God had intentionally made the one being, the one ethereal creature beautiful and angelic enough to be a sin away from him, so that he couldn’t touch her. Because she was young, and in her twenties, and that shouldn’t have even been the first two things that popped up in his mind because she was also Peter’s girlfriend.

But then she had the audacity to stick her hand out, a shy grin and twinkle in her eyes as she gave her name. It sounded so pretty rolling off of her tongue, and he wondered what it would sound like while he groaned it into her cunt.

Y/N.

So, yeah, maybe Bucky wasn’t planning to fuck her as soon as he met her, but it was pretty damn close after.

Steve Rogers was one of very few men who said they had the pleasure of banging nearly every woman on the north side of Manhattan. Bucky indulged in the fact that the man who had once been too shy to do so much as meet a gal’s gaze was now “a dollar whore”, but he was more than happy to keep that title if it meant he could continue to get off in the nearest woman’s mouth everyday.

Every time he walked down the streets of New York with just a simple ball cap and jeans, he could feel stares on his back from what seemed like miles away, girls on every street corner just waiting for him to take her into the nearest public bathroom and fuck them dirty. CEOs, baristas, girls fresh out of getting master’s degrees with stars in their eyes and big dreams, until he shattered them by making them gag on his cock and scream his name into bedsheets. Or tile floors. He didn’t care as long as they were screaming. The girls of this century were just too delectable to turn down. He didn’t discriminate. His dick had been in women of every height, stature, hair color, and he had quite the variety throwing themselves at him as well.

And then Tony ruined it all and sat him down with a simple explanation that the image of Captain America was being tainted with disturbing stories of girls being fucked in the ass and thrown on their knees in dirty bathroom stalls. The blond was beyond pissed when the billionaire told him to stop dicking around, but he couldn’t do anything else if he wanted to keep his title and job. In a new century, even if he’d had a few years to adjust, he was still absolutely oblivious when it came to anything outside of aliens and sex. There was nothing left for him outside of being an Avenger, so reluctantly he agreed to keep his number of conquests to a minimum, and most definitely inside of the tower rather than out on the street.

However, inside of the tower seemed to be no problem at all when Peter brought his girlfriend over, all smiles and straight A’s, and that’s when Steve realized that he’d yet to fuck a bright, little college student. He could see himself stripping her from the innocence in her eyes, loosening up her pussy with his thick cock against the wall in his room.

Surely Tony couldn’t reprimand him for spending a little time trying to bond with Peter’s new girl, right?

Sam Wilson was a simple man. He had a job, a well-paid one at that, somewhere to live, a girlfriend, or a woman to keep him company, that’s for sure- but for once in his life he was seeking out something other than missions, something that would keep him busy when he was feeling bored, something like-

Pleasure, and he knew that he’d finally found what he was looking for the moment Peter brought his girlfriend through the elevator doors on the fifty-sixth level of the Avengers tower. She’d shaken his hand so daintily and spoke so politely that if he were to see her without any backstory, he’d think she was another innocent, dim-witted college student, breaking her bank account every Saturday morning and naively believing that her relationship would last longer than a few months. But by the things Parker had told him, she was much more than that.

Was it shitty of Peter to tell his teammates, the people he worked with, how Y/N was in bed? By the majority’s vote, probably, and by Sam’s strict conduct of his own morals, definitely, but when Peter’s girl looked like that and he was so incredibly bored with his routine?

Well, fuck, Sam had never been happier that the Spider-kid had told everyone how his girl gave head.

Peter brought his girlfriend in daily after that, and every one of her visits, she grew less shy and more friendly, and the Falcon saw each of his friends gape at her growing comfortability with a wolfish demeanor. It started with the water incident with Steve in the kitchen, where he so clearly spilled water on her already thin, white camisole with intention. Sam couldn’t say he was upset though, after all Steve had offered him and the rest of the Avengers quite a show when he tried to clean up her shirt, taking his sweet, sweet time to fondle her tits as subtly as he could, his eyes staring at her pebbled nipples poking through the material. He could see Bucky hiding his boner under his cereal bowl on the couch that day.

Then of course, he’d been no better than America’s sweetheart himself when he greeted Y/N with a hug that in hindsight, was a little too enthusiastic. His large hands squeezed into the pockets of her back pocket, and if the college student found anything weird with it, she didn’t say so, but Sam graciously palmed the round globes of her ass in his hands, feeling the muscle clench under his fingers. Oh, how he’d never hugged someone that tight ever before in his life. Maybe he would’ve gotten a bit further than squeezing her ass had it not been for his own girlfriend standing behind him, ready to introduce herself to Y/N.

Bucky, well, Sam could admit that Bucky had the most guts out of all of them. Though the super-soldier was normally well-reserved and polite, the dark glint in his eyes the day he met Y/N let him in on the secret that he had a much dirtier mind than most thought. It had been movie night that time, and he barely even tried to cover up how much he wanted the girl, his hands resting all over her as they watched Inception. Hardly a movie to get so riled up over, yet Bucky’s hand still inched its way up her thigh, his rough fingers gently carressing the flesh until they started to lightly trace the apex of her thighs.

If she noticed anything then, she didn’t comment on it, doe-like eyes just marvelling at the screen in great intrigue. It was only when Peter’s arms wrapped around her a bit tighter did she scooch away from Bucky’s touch, with a small apology and shy grin.

That only made his dick harder.

On the other side of Bucky, his super-soldier counterpart tapped his knee gently, forcing their blue eyes to meet each other. No words had to be said between the two, three men when they looked over to Sam, because they all recognized that look they saw in each other's eyes; predatory, dark, nearly voracious in the way they all wanted to be balls deep inside of Y/N.

And they would get there. No matter how long it took, they knew that the ultimate prize of tearing their prey apart would be more than worth the wait.

“Hey, babe, I’m gonna be a little late. Ned and I got stuck back in the lab, so we’re gonna need to stay until eight or nine. Can you make it to the tower by yourself alright?”

Peter’s concerned voice made Y/N smile gently as she trudged along the rainy streets of New York. He always loved to worry about her, especially when it was dark and gloomy out, but she could handle herself pretty okay. By pretty okay, of course meant she could kick ass like no other twenty-something year-old, but she wasn’t one to brag. Y/N readjusted the Kate Spade purse on her shoulder with her right hand, attempting to keep her umbrella over her head with the other. “I’ll be fine, Pete, just go finish up and get back to me. I’m gonna be waiting in your room at the tower before you go off on that mission this weekend.”

A small sigh came through the speaker, “Okay, I’ll try to get back to you soon. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Pete.”

“Oh,” she could hear the shy but no less mischievous smile that was taking over his face, “I left you a little present on the bed, make sure you open it before I get back.”

Y/N’s face heated at the implication. “Peter Parker, you dirty little-” He ended the call with a laugh, and she huffed out a small chuckle at his childish antics.

The walk to the Avengers tower would have been nice, had it not been for the downfall of rain, making everything mushy, socks being absolutely soaked through her sneakers by the time she arrived. The receptionist at the front desk, Jenny, if Y/N remembered correctly, stared at her a little oddly, probably not expecting to see the young college girl in such a state of disorder, but it didn’t affect her at all. She confidently strutted up to the elevator, pressing in the floor number where all the rooms were located. Y/N scrolled through her Twitter feed on her phone while classic rock blared through the elevator with the constant shuffling of people moving in and out. Seven minutes and thirty-two seconds later she was sprinting down the halls with soggy shoes and damp hair, her cold body screaming for warmth.

Peter’s room was the farthest down the hall, and the room was fairly empty. He rarely stayed at his room in the tower, preferring to stay with his Aunt May or keep Y/N company in Brooklyn. When she entered the room, she saw a plain white shirt and a pair of socks strewn upon the carpeted floor, but what really caught her eye was the red box wrapped in a pink bow on the bed. Deciding it would add more suspense if she opened it later, she quickly hopped in the shower, letting the hot water warm her freezing, rigid muscles under the spray.

Peter didn’t have all the products she’d usually use before she knew they were going to have sex, so she had to make do with the half-used bar of Irish Spring and his small travel-sized bottles of shampoo and conditioner, promising the fresh, breezy smell of citrus and mint. It was a quick process; two squeezes of shampoo, shaving with the green soap as best as she could without cutting herself, one squeeze of conditioner. A fuzzy towel sat waiting for Y/N on the rack, with the Spiderman symbol as a prank gift from her to her lovely boyfriend, and without a second to let the heat leave her damp skin, she wrapped herself in it, quickly hopping out to the bedroom again.

The lingerie she set out on the bed was a deep set burgundy color, with lace decorating the delicate corset and the trim of the satin panties. The packaging really did not do it justice. Y/N grinned at the new set, one that she knew would happily be torn from her body later. A shiver ran through her as she let the cold air fall over her skin, carefully slipping the lingerie on. It was a damn shame, really; the set was quite nice, and she reminded herself to buy more of the nicely suiting color for their nights together.

Click.

Y/N’s heart thumped with anticipation as she heard the door open and she took a quick moment to ready herself. Hair in perfect style, legs stretched along the length of the bed to make herself look as seductive as possible, a small smirk thrown on her pouty lips.

But in the darkened room, it wasn’t Peter’s shadow that appeared. Three men, three tall, bulkier men’s shadows appeared at the foot of the bed, and horror washed over her as she realized who they were. “Goddamn, dolly, I’ve imagined what you would’ve looked like under those sweaters, but this is much sweeter than I expected.”

The sinister face of Bucky Barnes came into her view, just a sliver of moonlight lighting up his pale skin. His eyes raked over Y/N’s uncovered skin, and goosebumps appeared as she tried to cover herself up under his predatory gaze.

“W-what are you doing here?” She whispered worriedly. Sam and Steve flanked the bed on either side of her, plastered sickly sweet smiles on their faces, providing her with a false sense of security that made her heart scream in fear. Though she wasn't making any noise, her lungs felt like they were going to give out, her throat closing up like an allergic reaction.

Her head whipped every which way in robotic movement, her brain seeming to fail her as she scanned the room for an exit. Several moments of shortened breaths, cold air chilling her body, before she came out of her freezing shock to realization.

“Why are you here? Please, get out, just g-get out!”

A calloused hand pushed away Y/N’s left arm that covered her tits, and Steve groaned at the sight of her pebbled nipples. “God, baby, they’re as pretty as I thought they’d be. Been trying to feel them up all week, but you knew that, didn’t you?”

Saturday the week before at lunch when he’d spilled water over chest and tried to clean her up. Sam’s friendly hug that became a bit less friendly when his hands slipped into the back pockets of her jeans. The movie night on Monday when Bucky’s hand caressed her thigh a little too close to her core. All of their touches began to make more sense, and her eyes filled with tears at the realization.

“Please,” she begged, tears blocking her vision, “I promise I won’t tell anyone, not even Pete, but please just go.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?” Steve asked. He grasped her chin roughly, his face close enough to hers so that she could feel his fiery breath on her lips. “We’re not leaving, sweetheart. You’re gonna let all three of us play with your pretty little body, and you’re gonna make the prettiest sounds for us, alright?”

Y/N shook her head violently, too afraid to make noise, but also bold enough to make one last attempt at freedom. The hand that held her chin quickly moved to slap her cheek, and she hated the way the sting made heat stir in her lower belly. She tried to shy away from their touch again, but Bucky’s face simply held the same smirk as he trailed his vibranium fingers up and down her leg.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, don’t act all shy now. Peter has been telling us how good you’ve been to him and don’t think he hasn’t told us about your little childhood crush on little ol’ me. Been wanting to fuck you ever since.” Bucky’s hand quickly left her body, instead moving to palm over the bulge in his pants. “Fuck, sweetheart, got me real hard just thinking ‘bout your pussy swallowing my cock. Bet you’re gonna be a sweet, obedient girl for me, right?”

Fire started to course through Y/N’s veins, and with all the power she tried to dampen it down with, it seemed to push through her body that much more dangerously. She despised the fact that she could feel herself growing wet for the three older men, but God, she had never felt the need to be filled up as badly as she did in that moment.

“You’re a bit of a slut, don’t you think?” Sam mocked. He kneeled on her right, his eyes fixated on her panty-clad pussy, a wet patch already forming on the soft satin. It really didn’t help that three of her teen celebrity crushes were eyeing her nearly naked body like a piece of meat. “I mean, look at you, already growing wet and needy for three cocks. Is that what you want, honey? Parker not treating you good enough?”

She hesitated. Goosebumps rose across her skin at the sinister tone of his voice, like he already knew it was true. And it was true and she hated that Sam was right, but as amazing as Peter was a boyfriend, it was clear from the vibrator hiding in his apartment’s bathroom that he was not amazing in the sheets. Every time, she held hope that it would be better, that she would finally get to stop faking an orgasm before he rolled out of the bed with a filled up condom, but she knew deep down inside of her that it wasn’t happening anytime soon. Y/N forced herself to nod weakly at Sam’s questions, and Bucky chuckled. “Oh, you poor dolly, we’re gonna have so much fun with you. Treat you better than that little boy ever could.”

All it took was a whimper, a nearly audible, deadly silent whimper that managed to squeak its way past Y/N’s throat, and the three men took it as permission to ravage her body however they pleased.

Steve made quick work of his pants as Sam lifted her chin to kiss him, his tongue hot and heavy against her mouth, coaxing her lips open. The sound of belt buckles hitting the floor shamefully turned on Y/N even more. Panic coursed through her senses, her mind wanting to scream for them to stop, but her body knew her too well as she felt a wave of slick run down her thighs. Cold metal digits slipped under the waistband of her panties, moving to her wet folds, and she whimpered into Sam’s mouth at the touch.

“You look so nice, baby, so pretty all laid out for us like this.” Bucky’s hands pulled down her panties as Steve pinched her peaked nipple through the lace, laying lavish, open-mouthed kisses down her torso. The cool air hit her pussy when Bucky’s hands pulled her legs wide open, fully exposed to the three men ready to use her against her will. “Knew you’d be so wet for us, sweetheart, just look at you. Dripping all for your daddies,” Steve murmured against her skin.

Hot breath fanned over her cunt before they rolled her over on her stomach, someone’s hands forcing her up onto her knees with her face smashed into the cotton pillows. She could feel two rough human hands pulling her ass cheeks apart, spreading her ever wider for their view. “Would you look at that, boys, look how fucking hot she is for us.”

Sam’s thick finger ran through her folds, the calloused pad of his finger just teasing her clit before landing a harsh smack to the inside of her thigh. Her moan was muffled through the mattress and she prayed they wouldn’t hear how being treated like whore made her wet like nothing else.

Hot slick dripped down her thighs, a pool of it staining the pristine sheets by each knee. It was quite a sight, Steve, kneeled by the bed as his face hovered next to her ear, whispering filthy things into her ear as Bucky stroked his hard, leaking cock right next to him. Sam’s lips were making their way up the inside of her right thigh, cracked skin gliding across her sticky flesh. “Oh, baby,” he purred, “you smell so good. Bet you taste even better, don’t you, little girl?”

His tongue reached the apex of her thighs, finally licking a stipe up her center with no warning. Y/N sobbed into the comforter below her, mascara stained tears marking up her face. Two fingers edged their way between the bed and her face, forcing her head upwards and arching her back. Steve’s face was caught in a dirty smirk above hers, lip pulled taut between his teeth, until he saw the tears trailing down her face. “Oh, sweetheart, you look so desperate like this.” His fingers traced her smeared lip gloss around her lips, before opening her lips harshly. “Open up, you dumb baby.”

Y/N forced her jaw open wider, just enough to watch a string of Steve’s saliva drip into her mouth. The thick spit pooled on her tongue and she tried hard not to grimace in front of him, in hopes that he wouldn’t make her-

“Swallow it, sweetheart.” He saw the hesitation in her eyes, how her lower lip trembled at his words, but he just laughed at her. “Now.”

The warm saliva slid down her tongue and more black tears ran down her face as she obliged his orders, finally gulping it and cringing at the taste. Steve loved the way her face screwed up in displeasure, how she still had the audacity to pretend she hated what they were doing though she was moaning and whimpering with Sam’s tongue attacking her entrance.

“What do you want, sweetheart? We might give it to you as long as you use your words.” Bucky taunted lightly.

Y/N stared up at the brunette, staring menacingly down at her with his cock in hand. “Please,” she whimpered.

The three found it woeful, the way she could barely get a full sentence out as Sam went to town with his skilled tongue, but even with that onslaught, a simple please wasn’t enough for them.

“Please what, honey,” Sam moaned from between her legs, “you gotta use your big words or we’ll never know what you want from us.”

Steve and Bucky nodded in fake-agreement even though they all knew exactly what she wanted and where.

“I don’t-” her widened eyes glanced into Steve’s, blown-out and teary. “I don’t want anything, not from you.” She lied through her teeth harshly.

Sam removed his head from between her thighs and Y/N immediately whined at the loss of contact almost hilariously. “You don’t want anything, little girl?”

The air felt static, every hair on her neck rising in the pressured silence. The angel and the devil clawed at her heart, each trying to show her what was right. And she wanted to sin, God knew that she would love nothing more than to let that little greedy part of her take over, but she’d already cheated on Peter and that damn good part of her conscience stole the wheels of her brain.

Slowly and shamefully, she shook her head, though the downright dirty monster inside of her wanted the men to ignore her words and keep assaulting her body.

“That’s a shame, baby, I thought we were having fun.” Sam sighed. He met Bucky’s gaze on the side, and though they seemed to be in resignation with her wishes, their eyes twinkled devilishly. He positioned his body over Y/N’s kneeled over form, his bare chest glued to her sweating back as his hands ran up the sides of her ribcage and to her front, just barely grazing over her sensitive nipples. “You mean, you don’t want me to touch you here?”

He pinched the darkened buds and she had to use every ounce of self-restraint to not collapse at the sensation. His calloused hands moved back even further, tracing down to the stretch of skin just above her mound, swiping a finger across the skin delicately. “How about here? Or even,” he brought three fingers around her body, over her ass, and into her glistening cunt again, just rubbing along her entrance, not daring to go further in. Y/N couldn’t hold in her reaction to his prodding anymore, his teasing chipping away all of her dignity and pride in a few simple touches.

“Yes, please, please, use your fingers,” she blurted against her will. Where shame should have washed over her, there was only lust, raging red and coursing through her body so forcefully that she felt braindead. “Put your fingers in me, daddy, please.”

The pet name rolled off of her tongue so easily and she was barely ashamed of how it made her feel. The name especially shocked the three men, who smiled even wider with their cocks harder than before at the little slip up. “That was all you had to say, dolly, gonna have your daddies make you feel real good,” Bucky laughed.

Sam finally plunged his thick fingers knuckle-deep into her cunt as Steve’s mouth captured hers, effectively swallowing her scream with ferocity. The long digits scissored and swirled inside of her, pressing against new unexplored areas that she’d never even gotten to with her own fingers. White dots danced along the front line of her vision as teeth clashed against hers and though it’d been mere minutes she already knew she was close and the men did as well.

“I can feel you clamping around my fingers, honey,” Sam taunted. His lips were moving sinfully around her ass, planting sloppy kisses and drooling all over her skin while he fingered her deep. “Are you gonna come soon, baby?”

“Yes, daddy, I’m so- fuck,” Y/N panted into Steve’s mouth, “m’ so c-close.” The blond bit her tongue hard enough for her to taste blood and she yelped as she heard Sam and Bucky laugh.

“Watch your language, dolly,” Bucky sneered from the side of the bed. His hand was rapidly moving around his cock, corkscrew motions edging him towards the brink of pleasure.

“Little girls like you don’t get to use big swear words,” Sam’s face was still buried between her legs, his soaked fingers pulling out of her cunt only to rub at her little pearl of nerves in circles. His tongue still lapped at her dripping entrance and he could feel her tight hole start to pulse as her breathing picked up. “Oh, baby, you’re getting close, aren’t you?”

Y/N was hesitant to answer at first, the sweat on her body seeming to cool immediately in fear of what would happen if she messed up. But after five seconds Steve stopped kissing her, gripping her chin and staring into her eyes deeply. He looked as debauched as she felt, with his rosy lips swollen with spit and cheeks tinged with pink. “Are you gonna answer daddy, sweetheart?”

That knocked her into shape real fast.

“Yes, daddy, I’m so close. P-please let me come,” she whimpered. The whine in her voice pleased the two men, and Steve went back to exploring her mouth before she felt something poking against her asshole.

“Gonna let daddy put his cock in you, little girl?” Sam asked gently. His words had panic coursing through her system, a chilling realization like water being poured on her head and she began to wiggle around, trying to free Sam’s hand from her hip. Her arms weakly pushed at Steve’s chest, trying to push him as far away as he could, but the men only laughed at her flailing limbs. Y/N wanted to scream no to them, and despite her contrasting love-hate relationship with Sam’s fingers inside her cunt she knew it was time to go. It was laughable how much she would continue to say that to herself for the rest of the night.

But Sam managed to sense her panic, knowing exactly what the issue was before harshly spanking her and effectively stopping her struggle. “Don’t worry, baby, I won’t come inside of you. I’m not risking knocking up a whore with my kids, I’ve got more dignity than that.”

He led the leaking tip of his dick down her crack, rubbing it along her slick entrance before pushing in with a groan. “Oh my fucking God, that is so hot.” Bucky admonished from the side. “Gotta get in on that soon.”

Steve chuckled against Y/N’s lips, pulling away with a strand of saliva connecting them. He adjusted himself up so his dick was centimeters from her face, a knee propped up on the bed for balance. “Gotta wait your turn, Buck, we all want a piece of her.” He noticed the way Y/N’s eyes were transfixed on his cock, the red mushroom head smeared with precome along the slit, nearly purplish veins standing out prominently on his shaft. Yeah, he couldn’t even deny that he was big because he already knew how many girls had dropped down on their knees for him. “Go ahead, sweetheart, open up those pretty lips for me.”

Almost too excitedly, she dropped her jaw, allowing him to slide his cock into the silky warmth of her mouth. As his hips started to thrust into her mouth, Sam’s started to do the same into her cunt. Both men moaned in tandem with their movements as Y/N’s worries faded away to the back of her mind as they stuffed her to the brim.

“You can come now, baby,” Sam nearly ordered, “go and cream on daddy’s cock- fuck, I know you’ve been waiting.”

It was a harsh bump of his head against her G-spot that sent her over the edge, walls clamping down with ferocity and milking him for all she was worth. Y/N reeled in the sunlight infested warmth that coursed through her body as she finally let go, whining around Steve’s dick as he continued to abuse her throat with long, deep thrusts.

Bucky was still holding his orgasm off, fondling with his tight, heavy sac while his dick remained a painfully hard mess, glistening with precome. “I’m so glad I got to see you come, dolly, look so fucking pretty when you do.”

She couldn’t deny the little skip of her heart at the praise, just a few simple words that made her feel like a good little girl. But no, God-fucking no, she wasn’t supposed to let them make her feel this way. Guilt washed away that warmth in her chest just as quickly, knowing that her boyfriend was just waiting to come back to see her, finishing up his studies so that they could live their lives out together after college while she was getting her pussy and mouth absolutely wrecked by his co-workers.

As soon as Y/N got her brain thinking straight again, Sam started moving inside of her again and she garbled out a strangled cry. “If you thought we were done here, baby,” Sam laughed, “you’ve got a lot left ahead of you.”

“We’re not leaving until all of us have come, brat.” Steve’s palm gripped the back of her skull roughly, pushing her head so far down on his dick that her nose was squished against his abdomen. “Greedy little bitch.”

Both men started to thrust into her again, and just like that she was back to being absolutely lost in desire and lust like the bitch in heat she was until there was a sudden shift in the air. So much that the sweat on her body began to cool her skin, Sam’s hands still gripping her hips so tightly she knew they’d leave marks that she would have to hide when she wore her favorite low-cut shorts.

Bucky’s eyes seemed to drift from her tits moving with each movement of her hips, checking behind the door as if there were something lurking there, but she was too afraid to see for herself. If she stopped she would get spanked, and they’d probably prolong her second orgasm even further, and her pussy couldn’t handle any more subtle teasing.

“Hey there, Parker, why don’t come on out here?”

But that, that was what made the hairs on Y/N’s neck rose, dread filling her to the fullest as she realized the implications of Sam’s words.

Peter had seen everything. Peter, her boyfriend, had seen three of his co-workers, three men who she barely knew, fuck her deep into his mattress. Peter, her boyfriend, had watched her get fucked into his mattress, without trying to stop them whatsoever.

She couldn’t tell if it was the guilt of cheating on her boyfriend or the freezing realization that he hadn’t done anything to stop the three men that hurt more.

Yet Peter still walked from behind the door, dressed in a NYU hoodie and a pair of khakis slung low on his hips, just drawing attention to the sizable bulge that stretched out his zipper. His umber eyes, normally full of so much joy and love, were possessed by the same lust and darkness as the three men, as much as he tried to hide it behind a shyer facade.

His eyes were trained on the tightness of how Y/N’s pussy was gripping Sam, her lips glossed over with come and spit wrapped around Steve’s dick. The girl stopped in her movements, her eyes no longer full of tears for just being gagged, but as soon as her mouth came to a halt around the base of his cock, the blond slapped her across the face. A sharp crack echoed around the room and though she couldn’t see him, she heard Bucky’s feral growl of pleasure at the whorish treatment she was receiving.

“Didn’t say you could fucking stop, sweetheart, keep working on daddy’s cock.” No more words needed to be said as Steve gripped her hair once more, forcing himself farther back into her throat to the point where she couldn’t breathe. Sam’s thrusts were quickening, closer and closer to release as the sounds of the girl struggling to breath made his balls tighten.

“Fucking shit, baby, you feel yourself squeezing my dick? I bet you like teasing daddy like that, don’t you?” One of his hands were brought down on her ass in a quick smack that resonated with Bucky, who was staving off his orgasm for something much sweeter than his hand. She was moaning raucously around the dick stuffed in her mouth, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure up every nerve in Steve’s body as he came with the tip of his dick nearly being swallowed by Y/N’s throat. There was barely any time for her to fully down the thick come in her mouth before Sam was threatening to orgasm. “I’m gonna come so soon but you better fucking not, little girl, you hear me? Gotta let your daddy come before you, you ungrateful little bitch- oh.”

It was a really fucking close call, Sam’s dick pulling out of her with one quick movement before spilling pearly ropes of come onto Y/N’s spine. A high whine escaped her mouth, clit throbbing as she was so, so close to coming, and she was too far into her crazed pleasure to realize that she was letting three older men, men who fought to defend the universe from evil, use her as an over-glorified fleshlight.

She couldn’t really blame them for calling her a cockdrunk whore.

Bucky sauntered over to the bed, eyes trained on the pool of come centered around the base of her spine before flipping her over onto her back with his large hands and shoving three vibranium fingers back into her hole. She gasped and held onto his forearm as he continued to fingerfuck her to her second orgasm, eyes screwed shut in a delirious haze of contentment for being filled with at least something again.

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, please-” Steve slapped her along the face, correcting her words immediately. “Daddy, daddy, please let me come.”

Bucky chuckled, tweaking one of her nipples with his flesh hand as he hovered over her face. “I don’t know, dolly, you’ve been a little naughty, callin’ me the wrong name, not listening to Stevie’s orders- don’t think you deserve to get what you want.”

A muffled whimper escaped her swollen lips, and he sighed in surrender. “Okay, dollface, go ahead and come on my fingers. Let me see how you wet ‘em up real good.”

Y/N’s hips bucked into his metal digits with finality, come leaking out of her cunt and soaking the sheets below her. Her sweat-glazed skin shone even against the darkening sky, and all Bucky could do was chuckle at how her chest rose quickly as she tried to catch her breath. He thought about teasing her clit again, just circling around the little bud of nerves to get a rise out of her, but he decided against it. Sam probably had better plans for her anyway.

On the other hand, Y/N’s orgasm was starting to wear off as she noticed the hardened stare from the edge of the room. Her boyfriend.

“Peter, I…” Y/N made eye contact with him, suddenly noticing how mousy he looked in his own bedroom.

“I nearly forgot you were here, Parker,” Sam smirked darkly. “Why don’t you come over here and fuck your little whore. I’m feeling a little generous today.”

Steve and Bucky nodded with the same infuriating smugness as Sam. The brunette boy opened his mouth to object to the degrading statement, but when he met his girlfriend’s eyes nothing needed to be said. There was no escaping this. Nothing he said mattered to the three older men, because really they had already gotten everything they wanted right in front of their disgusting, perverted eyes.

He unbuckled his belt, letting the weight of it drop his khakis to the floor. Maybe if he’d known he would be forced into join a fivesome later that night he’d have picked any other boxers but the Ducktales one, but no one seemed to say a word about them, rather focusing on what they were failing to conceal.

Peter’s cock had always been admirable to Y/N by its length and God, definitely its thickness. Curved upwards towards his abdomen with a vein running along the left side up to the bulbous head, it was definitely more than average. It was really just a shame he didn’t know how to use it well enough.

His shirt was pulled over his head just as quickly, and if Y/N knew any better she would say that he was excited to get to fuck her in front of the three men. He placed himself in between Y/N’s parted legs, standing in the same position as he had so many times before.

But when Y/N cried out in pain and pleasure as he slid into her, Peter knew that this time, it was different. This time three men, men that he used to trust with his life, stood on either side of him and his girlfriend and jerked their hands up and down their cocks as they watched her get fucked relentlessly. It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t romantic, but he couldn’t really think when his thick cock was stuffed inside of her stimulated pussy, juices and come leaking out of her abused sex.

“Go faster, Parker,” Steve instructed, his face contorted in pure pleasure. The pace of Peter’s thrusts sped up, and he threw Y/N’s ankles over his shoulders, hitting deeper inside of her, with the sound of her sobs only turning them all on more. “Oh, right there, shit, shit, shit-”

Steve came first, a low groan escaping his lips as streams of come landed on her tits, still bouncing with every movement of Peter’s hips.

“Open up,” Sam gritted through his teeth, and Y/N obediently opened her mouth to let his bitter come coat the inside of her throat, some of it landing on her face and neck. The string of curses he let out made Peter thrust even faster into her, and he hated, absolutely despised the way it turned him on to see the three men use his girlfriend to their pleasure. But soon enough a hand pushed against his chest away from Y/N and he reluctantly pulled out.

“Move aside, kid,” Bucky instructed, “Wanna come inside of her.”

As he lined his gigantic cock up with her entrance, her eyes widened with fear. “No, please, I didn’t take my pills, I can’t- I won’t, please not inside-”

“Shut the fuck up, you slut.” Bucky’s fingers came to slap her clit harshly, and she cried out in pain. “You’re gonna be quiet and let me come wherever I damn want, right?”

He punctuated his last word as he thrust inside her, filling her up to the hilt with his girth. She was too drunk on the feeling of her cunt being filled up to argue again. It was painful, extremely so, even though two different cocks had been inside her overstimulated pussy already and Bucky stretched her out wide, his cock thicker with veins to hit every pleasure point. With her legs tossed around his tapered torso, he slid out until his very tip was left in her, then slammed back in with a small moan. The head of his cock relentlessly pounded into her cervix in a nearly soundless tempo and all Y/N could hear were her own gasps of pleasure, jaw-dropping moans that made drool slide back down her throat in her laid down position.

She turned her head to the side, and though her vision was bleary through the tears, she could see Sam and Steve watching Bucky fuck her while Peter, her boyfriend, her sweet, sweet boyfriend, was caught up fucking his hand to the sound of Bucky’s balls slapping against her ass.

“Fuck, ‘m not gonna last much longer, dollface.” Bucky gasped. “You gonna come soon? You’re gonna come for daddy one more time. I think you’ve got a third one in you, you little fucking slut.”

“Shit, shit, daddy, please ‘m almost there,” Y/N wailed absentmindedly. A thumb came down to circle her clit quickly and she felt the coil in her stomach grow tighter and tighter, until she finally let out a high whine, finding her release as Bucky’s cock pulsed inside of her, ready to come just as easily as her. Her pussy clenched around his cock as she rode out her orgasm, fingers grasping at the sheets in order to find some sort of grounding. His come painted her walls white, and Bucky could’ve sworn there was no better feeling than feeling his blood warm in every vein as he finally let go. With stunted groans, his hips slowed its rhythm, lost in watching how his cock disappear into Y/N’s pussy, her slick juices coating his dick each time he pulled out.

“Ah, fuck, dolly, you did so good for me. Pussy tight as a fuckin’ vice.” Bucky hugged her limp body close to his sweaty chest, letting his dick soften inside of her for a good few moments before pulling out. He tossed Y/N back onto the bed below him, barely even caring to clean the come dripping down her ribcage and out of her cunt before grabbing his boxers from the cabinet next to the bed.

Steve was already buttoning his jeans up, checking the notifications on his phone before shoving it back into his pocket. The blond seemed to have better things to do so soon after, rushing his way to the door before pausing where Y/N laid to watch come drip out of her pussy. One more time he pushed Bucky’s come inside of her abused entrance, watching as it oozed out from behind his digits. “Look at you, fucking full of of his come. Such a goddamn whore,” he muttered under his breath.

Those were the last words he said to her before patting Bucky on the shoulder and leading him out of the opened door.

Maybe Sam was a bit more kind, or affectionate at least. He was already dressed but visibly hard again beneath the thick denim of his pants, and he made sure Y/N knew it, taking her left hand and placing it over his dick. “You still got that effect on me, honey, even when you’re all fucked out like this.” He dragged his fingers through the thick ribbons of come that coated her chest, bringing them up to her mouth so she could taste. Even though she was more than exhausted, she wrapped her tongue around the two fingers that were pushed past her swollen lips, sucking them clean with a tired vengeance. Satisfied with her work, he kissed her chin one more time before leaving without so much as another word, slamming the door shut on his way out.

Click.

It ended exactly the way it started, the lock jostling into the doorknob just as easily as the high of Y/N’s final orgasm slipped away.

Stifling silence suffocated the room around them. Peter refused to meet her eyes, just as much as hers did his. She laid motionless on the bed with him standing at the foot, his dick soft and if she narrowed her bleary eyes just a bit, she could see how his knees were shaking. Neither of them were able to say anything, losing the ability to converse as soon as the three men left the room.

“Peter,” her voice was throaty after the rough fucking she took, “C-can you please get me a drink?”

The brown-haired boy looked down to meet her face, and she could finally see the reason that he had hid it from her. His eyes were red and bloodshot, snot running from his nose with tears running down his cheeks. She’d been so caught up in the after haze of the sex that she didn’t even notice how his bare chest was heaving so deeply, nearing hyperventalation.

But still, he grabbed his boxers, pulling them over his weakened legs clumsily. “Y-yeah, what kind do you want, Mr. Stark has a ton-”

“I don’t care.” She cut him off firmly, a sharp tone in her voice as she rolled over on her side. Y/N tucked her knees to her chin, fingers running over the side of her neck which was marked with bruises and scratches. “I don’t fucking care.”

Without another word Peter slipped out of the room quietly, knowing better than to try to talk to her about what they had been forced to participate in. It wasn’t as if there was much to say anyways.

Rain pattered against the window. It was only six o’clock in the evening. Cars honked and beeped and Natasha’s Igor Stavinsky record played for its fiftieth round of the day, and to anyone else in the tower it was a normal night. Normal, just like the ones spent sitting on the couch with Bucky’s hand creeping up her leg or Sam’s hands groping her ass, but this time they’d made a move.

The silence was far too much to handle, the unspoken truth of what she’d done with Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Peter finally hitting her, knocking the air out of her lungs as she suddenly struggled to breathe. Gripping her face, clawing at it like a goddamn wolf, Y/N began to cry. Silently at first, gradually growing into heartbroken sobs, she let her trodden pride carry her voice wherever it wanted to go.

The men’s whispered words haunted her mere moments after they’d left the room, but most audibly she could hear a faint husk of a voice, Sam’s low moan in her ear looming in the dreadful silence of the room:

Thanks for sharing with us, baby.

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honeypiehotchner · 3 years

Text

kiss me on the mouth and set me free (Damon Salvatore x fem!Reader) -- one shot

Hi my lovelies! I know this is not my usual content whatsoever, but I’ve been watching TVD with my best friend (@treat-winchesterswith-kindness) and she was begging for a Damon smut, so this is the result. And I have to say...I enjoyed the hell out of writing this one xx.

Beta’d by @treat-winchesterswith-kindness and @a-radical-notion <3

Warnings: (Birthday) SMUT! (Slight) virginity kink, Daddy kink, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), biting (of course), size kink

Damon’s fingers touch gently underneath your chin, tilting your head, forcing your eyes to meet his. Not for compliance, he’d never do that to you. But for attention, for focus, for sincerity. He wants you to know his true intentions, the kind that only you can see when you’re looking into his eyes.

The usual mischief isn’t there. Instead, swirling in his eyes, are the softest emotions you’ve ever seen. The most genuine. The warmest.

Slowly, you nod. Your silent, willing compliance. Your silent, please.

As he leans forward to connect your lips--

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

Your dream is ripped right out from under you by the smirking vampire standing in your bedroom. “Damon, what the hell?” You sit up in bed, rubbing your forehead. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Yikes, what’s with the attitude? My feelings are fragile, you know.” He grabs a pillow off your floor and hugs it to his chest as he quite literally falls onto the reading chair you have by your window.

Your only response is a glare.

“Come on, do you not know what day it is?”

“No,” you mutter, dropping your hands onto the bed in defeat. “What day is it?”

His expression is surprise, sadness, and unamused all at once. “Your birthday.”

“Oh,” you chuckle. You guess that is today. You’ve been so busy lately. You knew it was coming up, but you weren’t aware it was coming up this quickly. And now it’s here, and you have no plans.

Or at least you thought you didn’t have plans.

“Up, up, up,” Damon orders, waving his hands at you as he stands. “We’re celebrating, you’re not allowed to say no. Up.”

One thing you’ve learned about being friends with Damon Salvatore is that once he’s set in his ways, he isn’t budging. So, despite feeling like lead has been injected into your bones, you let him drag you out of bed -- literally. He reaches both hands out and you accept, wrapping your fingers around his and allowing him to tug you to your feet.

You and Damon have always been close. More than close, actually. You’ve never kissed or anything, at least not on the lips. He kissed your forehead once when you were sobbing over something. You kissed his cheek once in public when a guy wouldn’t stop hitting on you. And the two of you have held hands before, but more as an “I don’t want to lose you” measure in large crowds. You love concerts, and Damon does too (especially rock) but he hates the crowds because he hates losing sight of you.

You wouldn’t be surprised if everyone just assumed you and Damon are dating. You know the two of you aren’t -- because he’s definitely had sex with other women while you’ve been friends with him -- but you also know his behavior might lead others to believe otherwise. You also know that’s kind of his whole intention.

He’s protective. It’s what he does best. When you’re next to him, no one who isn’t your friend will look at you. And when you’re not with him, you’ve noticed the number of people who approach you with ill intentions has considerably decreased.

Once you’re known indirectly (or directly, you guess) as Damon Salvatore’s girl, no one comes near you. Exactly how Damon likes.

You don’t mind it. You hate being bothered. You’re surprised you let Damon bother you for as long as you did before you caved. You can’t lie, you liked it. You liked him. You still do.

But Damon isn’t the settling down type. He’s not the type to be monogamous, at least not from your experience. You do wonder at times what his goal was whenever he’d tell you about his sexual encounters. It wasn’t like he was bragging, but you couldn’t help but feel like he was trying to get a reaction out of you.

So, obviously, you didn’t give him one.

Damon doesn’t always get what he wants. He just thinks he does. And you like to make him believe that.

“Are you ready yet? I’m starving,” Damon calls from the hallway.

You roll your eyes. “No. And you can’t be starving, you’re dead.”

“I know,” he smirks, sauntering into your room. “Look at you.”

“Look at me?” You scoff. “I wore this outfit last week.”

“Yeah, but you look...hotter, I don’t know. Maybe it’s your birthday.”

You roll your eyes again, a habit you do most often when you’re with Damon. “Whatever. Where are you taking me?”

“Oh, just, all your favorite places.”

“You’re full of shit, Damon.”

+++

After a full day of doing all of your favorite things, most of which Damon hates, by the way. You have no idea why he’s been entertaining you all day, but you’re assuming it’s only because today is your birthday. He’ll go back to his usual self tomorrow and hang out with you only when it doesn’t involve things he hates doing.

“Which one of your comfort movies are we watching to end the day?”

You eye Damon skeptically from the kitchen. He’s currently on the couch, flicking through Netflix lazily.

You don’t want to question any of this until tomorrow, so you tell him which movie to queue up, and you hear him muffle a groan.

You return to the living room with a giant bowl of popcorn, plopping it in the middle of you and Damon. He presses play on the movie, and you eat your popcorn with a smile.

Of course, you should’ve known it was too good to be true for Damon to keep his mouth shut all day because about halfway through the movie, he drops the bomb you had been waiting on.

“So...you’ve really never had sex?”

You roll your eyes, but don’t respond.

Earlier today when the two of you were walking around, Damon kept pointing out cute guys. And they were cute, you’ll give him that, but you had no idea what his deal was. After five or six guys are pointed out, Damon asks you, “Come on, you’ve never had birthday sex? A one-night stand on your special day?”

You had laughed and shoved his arm, and confessed, “I’ve never had any sex, period. So no thank you. Can we please go?”

You knew it was way too good to be true when Damon dropped the subject immediately and moved on, letting you drag him away to your other favorite spot.

Of course, you should’ve known he was only waiting for the right time. You did know. Which is why you haven’t answered him right now.

But he keeps going.

“What about held hands? Kissed anyone on the lips?”

“First of all, you’ve held my hand, and second of all, of course I’ve kissed someone on the lips, I’m not a nun!” You lie.

He looks skeptical. “When was it?”

“I was…” He gives you the look harder, not compelling you, but might as well have been. “Fine. I’ve never had sex, and I’ve never had my first kiss. Are you happy now?”

“Of course I’m not happy!” He gives you another look, this one like you’ve gone batshit crazy. “You’re missing out on one of life’s greatest experiences!”

“And this is exactly why I never told you,” you toss a popcorn kernel at him, watching it bounce off his forehead. He looks up at it, but he doesn’t blink. “Not everyone thinks sex is all there is to life, Damon.”

“Okay, that’s not what I meant--”

“That’s exactly what you meant.”

“I just mean if...you’re waiting…”

“Please, stop. Talking.”

“You don’t need to wait.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Because I’m right here.”

You stare at him blankly. “What?”

He shrugs nonchalantly like he’s not the biggest manwhore around. “I’m here.”

“You’re joking. Quit fucking with me.”

“I’m not fucking with you-- Well, at least not yet--”

“Oh my God, shut up!” You laugh, swatting at his arm, hating the way you’ve gone hot all over.

Damon Salvatore is attractive. Scratch that-- He’s more than attractive. He’s the kind of attractive everyone says they want in a guy, but obviously, it’s too much to ask for, so they settle for a little less. You can’t ask everyone to look like a God, but Damon does -- though you’ll never let him hear those words leave your lips. Never.

The prospect of having sex with Damon has crossed your mind more than once. Probably a thousand times, if you’re honest, but you always knew it would never happen. He’s Damon Salvatore. First of all, he doesn’t do anything besides casual sex, and second of all, you’re pretty sure his sex only includes experienced partners. You don’t exactly fit either of those criteria.

You never even thought he looked at you that way. You figured if he had, he would’ve made more jokes or insinuated things. But he never has with you.

“I’m being serious, you know.”

At this point, fifteen more minutes of the movie have gone by. But you haven’t been paying attention.

“Can I ask why?” You say, keeping your eyes focused on the TV screen.

“Why what?”

“Why now? Why are you suddenly interested? Because if it’s just to get your dick wet, I will kick you out.”

“What do you mean suddenly interested?” He counters.

“What do you mean?” You fire back, finally looking at him. “The whole time we’ve been friends, you’ve had more one-night stands than I can count. You never flirt with me. And just today you were trying to find someone for me to have birthday sex with. Are you serious?”

“Okay, yes, I have had a lot of one-night stands, and yes, I was being...obnoxious today, but I have flirted with you.”

“Since when?”

“Since every day I’ve known you!” He cries. “Did you not notice?”

You slump back into the couch cushions. “Well, I guess not.”

More minutes pass. The movie plays and you try to pay attention, silently wishing the couch would swallow you whole right now. This shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it is.

“I’m not saying you have to have sex tonight, but whenever you’re ready...I’m here.”

“Of course you’ll always be there for that.”

“You know I didn’t mean it that way,” he says, and you would’ve brushed him off again if he wasn’t looking into your eyes so deeply, and reaching for your hand. Not in a way that insinuates anything, but for comfort.

Silently, you turn your hand over and let him hold it. “What if...What if I’m not ready for sex yet, but…”

“But?”

“But…” You sigh, averting your eyes back to the movie. “What if I want you to kiss me?”

“I can do that.”

You nod, but you don’t move. Your hand stays gently held in his, your eyes glued to the movie. You suggested it yourself, yet you’re nervous.

Distantly, you hear the bowl of popcorn moving to the coffee table. You feel the cushion beside you dip slightly as Damon scoots over. And then…

“You’re going to have to look at me if you want me to kiss you.”

You feel his fingers gently lifting your chin, turning your gaze toward him.

“Are you sure?”

You roll your eyes, not as harsh this time because you’re too busy buzzing with the fact that his fingers are still on your chin. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

“Okay, okay,” he teases, his thumb stroking your jaw.

He moves slow, not wanting to rush you, but he moves so slow that you wish he’d use his speed. Before you can make a comment about it, though, his lips are finally on yours.

Kissing isn’t what you expected. But since it’s with Damon, it’s amazing.

He still moves as slow as possible, his hand moving from your chin to your jaw, cupping your face, pulling you closer. You have no idea what to do with your hands, so you leave them in your lap, curled into fists.

Damon pulls back, pecking your lips once, then twice, before finally pulling away.

“How’s that for a first kiss?”

You don’t bother responding. Instead, you grip his shirt in both hands and pull him back to you, kissing him harder. A growl releases itself from the back of Damon’s throat, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip in retaliation.

You open up for him instantly, fists releasing his shirt when his tongue strokes into your mouth gently. His hands find your waist and squeeze, massaging your skin, tugging you closer until there’s practically not even a centimeter of space between the two of you. You wrap your arms around his neck, a small whine leaving your lips when he pulls back.

“Damon…” You whisper, your vision hazy, but in the best way.

“Look at me,” he says softly, his lips ghosting over yours.

You blink slowly, looking back into his eyes. “Hm?”

“Do you want more?”

You nod pathetically, still annoyed with him for stopping.

“Words, little one,” he taps your nose with his index finger. “What do you want?”

“More,” you say almost instantly. “I need more, Damon.”

“More it is,” he smirks, giving you what you need.

You inhale deeply when he kisses you, and when you exhale, your breath fills Damon’s lungs. Your fingers thread through his hair at the base of his skull, your arms keeping you steady around his neck. His lips devour you in every form of the word, claiming you, coaxing you to open up to him. His hands tug on your hips, pulling you into his lap, straddling his legs.

Your comfort movie plays on the TV in the background, the volume turned down, but still there. Somehow, it makes more of your nerves melt away. Damon’s touch makes the rest of them disappear.

Damon pushes your hair back from your face as he holds you captive with his kiss. Another nip to your skin and he pulls back.

“I want more,” you blurt, “but I’m not a one night stand.”

“You are most definitely not a one night stand,” he replies softly, pecking your lips. “If you want more, I’ll give you more.”

“Give me more,” you all but demand, rocking your hips. “Now.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tightens his grip on your hips, stopping your movement. “Just because it’s your first time doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want.”

You fully stop your movement out of surprise and annoyance. “Why not?”

“Because…” He thumbs the pout from your lips. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Damon,” you groan. “Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I haven’t fingered myself.”

He chuckles lowly, grabbing one of your hands and lifting it up into view. “I am a lot bigger than your fingers, princess.”

You shudder at the nickname and fail to hide it.

His usual mischievous smirk stretches across his lips. “You like that?”

You nod. No use in trying to hide it.

“Princess,” he murmurs. “What do you want?”

“Fuck me,” you say proudly, already tired of the teasing.

He smooths his hands down your arms. “That’s not asking nicely.”

“Please, will you please just fuck me already?”

“Nice of you to say please,” Damon replies, pressing a kiss to your lips. “But I need to get you ready first. Don’t pout, kitten. Come on.”

He shifts his weight to lift you up, laying you back on the couch. Slowly, your pants are dragged down your legs. You wait for him to take your panties, too, but he doesn’t.

You lift your head, but Damon stops you before the comment leaves your mouth. “Patience, princess.”

You throw your head back into the pillow with a groan, one that quickly morphs into a moan when he mouths your clit over your panties. His tongue darts out to tease your hole through the fabric, smirking into your pussy as you squirm. He thumbs your clit before massaging your lips.

“There we go,” he murmurs. “I can feel you getting wet, and that’s what we need, Princess, I don’t want to hurt you...not unless you ask.”

A flash of a wet dream you had a few nights ago, where Damon’s mouth was in your neck, his teeth breaking skin only barely, but enough to taste.

“Did you just get wetter? Oh, Princess…”

The sound of ripping fabric fills your ears when Damon’s teeth tear your panties away. The sudden cool air on your wet pussy causes your hips to buck, and Damon’s hands promptly push them back down.

He crawls up your body, briefly paying attention to your collarbones and neck, daring to nip there, but not breaking the skin, and leaving as quick as he came.

His entire body covers yours as he leans down, pressing sweet kisses to your lips, smirking when he finds your lips already parting for him. And when your hands find the buttons on his shirt, he chuckles, but keeps kissing you, fiercer now as you unbutton every last one, leaving his shirt hanging wide open.

“You feeling good?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

“Just checking, baby,” he coos, kissing both of your cheeks, then your nose.

He slides back down your body, settling over your hips. Now, without the barrier of your panties, you can feel his breath on your pussy. Before you have time to process that feeling, though, Damon is diving in headfirst -- literally.

Damon is not a stranger to going down on a woman, and it’s actually his favorite thing in the world to do.

He doesn’t even try holding you down. One arm is stretched across your hips, while his other hand is busy massaging your lips, coating his fingers in your wetness. You expect him to thrust his fingers into you then, but a loud moan has you looking down to see Damon’s fingers in his mouth, tasting you.

He opens his eyes and catches yours, smirking around his fingers as he pulls them out of his mouth. “You taste good.”

You scrunch up your nose, earning a laugh from him.

“I’ll make you taste one day, kitten, you might like it.”

“Hmph.”

“Don’t start pouting now,” he says, keeping his eyes locked with yours as his fingers trail down to your entrance. “Just one for now, Princess,” he whispers, spreading your lips and pressing in.

One isn’t much, so all that you feel is pleasure and heat in your core.

“More,” you whine, lying back down, breathless. “Please.”

“There’s my good girl,” he coos, kissing your hip bone. “Asking so nicely. I’ll make you feel good, don’t worry.”

Another finger enters you and it is a bit of a stretch, but still not much. He was right, his fingers are bigger than yours -- and you’re sure his cock is bigger, too -- but it’s still not enough.

“More,” you cry, the word breaking into a choked moan when he scissors his fingers, opening you up.

“There it is,” he smiles, leaning down to flick your clit with his tongue before sucking gently on the bundle of nerves. He continues scissoring his fingers until he hears your moans growing quieter, and that’s when he adds a third finger.

Now you feel the stretch, but it isn’t painful. Your moan is louder than you expect, your back arching off the couch, and Damon swears for a second he might’ve stumbled upon an angel.

A small whimper leaves your lips when he curls his fingers, pressing into your g-spot ever so slightly. Not hard enough for immense pleasure because he doesn’t want to wear you out immediately, and he knows you aren’t used to that level of pleasure -- not yet at least.

He pauses his assault on your hip bone, never biting hard enough to leave a mark, to return to your clit. He’s not sure if you know it, but you’re close. He can feel your walls fluttering and squeezing his fingers, the tell-tale signs.

Once you feel his mouth back on your clit, sucking and nibbling gently, you’re blinded by the pleasure that crashes into you. It’s as if the skies opened up and struck you with lightning straight from the sun.

When Damon moans into your pussy, the vibrations send waves of pleasure through your every fiber, and you have no choice but to cum all over his fingers.

Something you do when you’re pleasuring yourself is you stop almost immediately, but Damon continues, milking every last bit of your orgasm until you’ve calmed down. He leans his head on your hip while he continues massaging your walls until he can pull his fingers out without hurting you or startling you.

The emptiness you feel when his fingers leave you is a little startling, but only so much so that you need something else inside of you. Which is why while he’s busy sucking on his fingers again, making a complete mess, you’re sitting up and tossing your shirt over your head.

“Woah,” Damon says around his fingers, his eyes widening when your bra comes off, too. “Hello.”

You almost glare at him. “I need you inside of me.”

Damon raises an eyebrow, licking his lips. “Pardon me?”

“Please,” you groan. “Please, I need more, I…”

“Shhh,” he shushes you, his fingers massaging soft circles into your thigh. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

He nods. “Lay back, Princess. I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

You obey, mostly out of exhaustion than compliance, and Damon knows that. You’ve always been a bit of a brat, but he’s seeing even more of it tonight.

He makes a show of shrugging off his shirt, watching you watching him, your arm bent underneath your head to prop you up. One leg is up and the other is down, and you look like Heaven.

Damon undoes his belt and tosses it away, taking note of the way your eyes follow it all the way to the floor. You don’t even look back to him until his pants are hitting the floor, and him stepping out of them catches your attention again. Black boxer briefs are all that is left, and they’re barely containing him.

He loves how intently you’re watching him. The genuine curiosity sparks in his eyes when he pulls his underwear down, kicking them aside. You blink slowly, marveling at the sight of him. He’s...pretty.

“Like what you’re seeing, baby?”

You nod slowly. “Mhm. Taste?”

“Next time,” he promises, kneeling on the couch, pushing your legs apart. “Tonight is all about you, Princess.” He presses a kiss to your lips to seal the deal, and you accept it, reminded of how empty you feel now that your legs are spread again.

You go quiet when you feel his cock nudging your entrance. He stretched you, but he feels so big.

“Is it...Is it gonna fit?” You ask, your arms wrapping around his neck again for support.

“I’ll go slow,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead, cheeks, nose, and chin. “You tell me when to stop, okay?”

“Okay.”

He kisses you again, sweeter and softer this time, but it’s only a distraction for when he initially enters you. He could tell you needed the distraction, and he was correct.

When you begin to feel him, your nails scratch his skin and he stops, staying there, waiting for your word.

He goes slow as promised every time you ask for more, and stops whenever you say so, or when your whimper is louder than expected.

Soon, though, he’s fully seated inside of you, and you feel sufficiently full. At peace. And ready for him to fucking move.

“Move, please, Damon, I need you to--”

He pulls out slightly and snaps his hips, knocking the breath out of you. He watches your face, but there are no traces of pain, only pleasure.

A rhythm slowly forms, one that you enjoy, until you need more and when you ask for more this time, Damon doesn’t hold back.

So much so that it forces a new name from your lips.

You didn’t mean to say it, but when he stops moving out of surprise, you can’t help but whine it once more. “Daddy, please.”

“God,” Damon groans, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. The rhythm this time is slow and dizzying. “Say it again.”

“Daddy,” you whimper instantly, bucking your hips, pulling him in deeper.

“Just like that,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over your vein. “You have no idea how hard it is not to just…” He pauses, letting his teeth graze over the sensitive skin there. “And when you call me that…”

“Daddy…” You cry out, feeling him nudging against your cervix.

“My sweet little girl,” he breathes. “Letting me take her virginity. That’s my Princess, my baby…” His teeth graze your skin again, teasing you, and then…

“Please,” you mumble, closing your eyes. “Do it.”

He freezes, and you feel it, but you’re tired of him freezing, so you wrap your hand around the back of his head, pressing his mouth into your neck.

“Do it,” you repeat, even more breathless. “Please.”

Damon can’t resist, not when you feel this good wrapped around him, when you’re begging, when you’re pushing him closer, yearning for it.

He speeds up his rhythm, chasing his high. He doesn’t trust himself to cum with his teeth in your neck, but he can cum right before, and sink them in while you’re cumming. The pain won’t be as intense while you’re mid-orgasm.

Almost as soon as you feel Damon’s seed spilling inside of you, your back is arching, your own waves of pleasure shooting through your body, your second orgasm of the night capturing you. And when you least expect it, because you assumed he had decided against you, Damon’s teeth sink into your neck.

It’s a feeling you’ve never felt before, but it’s one you’ll be asking for more often.

Your body relaxes, Damon’s now half-hard cock sitting snugly inside of you while he drinks from you, and when he finally is done, you’re floating blissfully.

You catch only a glimpse of his face before it returns to normal, and he kisses you gently to get your attention.

“How was your first time?”

“Amazing,” you murmur, scratching gently at the base of his skull. “Really...amazing.”

“Do you want me to move?”

“No,” you shake your head. “Stay.”

“Okay, well I need to pull out of you, but then we can cuddle.”

“Fine,” you huff, dropping your arms from his neck.

Slowly, he pulls out of you, leaving you empty once more, despite the pleasure still thrumming through your body. “You can warm my cock another time, okay Princess?”

“Hmph.”

He stands and shakes his head. “Alright, it’s nap time for you.”

You look up hopefully. “Bed?”

“Yeah, come on.” He slides his arms underneath your legs and back, lifting you up bridal style.

You’re asleep in his arms before he even makes it to your room.

#damon salvatore #the vampire diaries #damon salvatore x fem!reader #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore x you #damon salvatore x y/n #damon salvatore smut #damon smut #damon salvatore fanfiction #damon salvatore fanfic #damon salvatore oneshot #damon x reader #damon x y/n #damon x fem!reader #damon x you #smut #tvd #tvd smut

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

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Hi! Um I was wondering if you could write a Domestic Bakugou where they were doing the do and the kid( I forgot his name wtf-😭) caught them? And then Like the next day at school my boy boy is doing it do other girls in his class- NOT LIKE IN A SEXUAL WAY👴🏽🤏🏽🕶 like when they got caught bakugo would say” I’m just protecting your mom from my villains” or sum shit💀✋🏽 So now he is like trying protect his friends 😭Just wondering😁

Ima crack writer so HERE WE GO!!😎

Do As I Say, Not As I Do

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Crack, smexy times, cursing, domestic

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

“S-Slow down Suki!”

Your husband pounded into you at an alarming pace. Katsuki came home from work feeling a little frisky and so when their beloved son, Katsuo, was fast asleep, the couple decided to get it on. It was around four in the morning and you two had been going at it for an hour, already 3 orgasms in.

Your bodies were covered underneath the blanket as Bakugou rammed into you. His large arms held your torso close as your own wrapped around his neck. His aching member slipped in and out of you, head just kissing your cervix, as his heavy balls smacked against the swell of your ass. The sound in the room was terribly loud. The way your skin smacked against one another and your moans created a rough melody of sex. Thankfully, you lived in a rather large home and your son’s room was far, far away. Good thing he was a deep sleeper too.

“What’s wrong princess? Can’t handle it?” Katsuki teased with his hot breath against your neck. At your every cry to go slower (in fear of awakening your son) Katsuki sped up his rhythm.

“F-Fuck!” You screamed. Katsuki rose above you and captured your neck in his hand. He stayed close to you as his free hand went to your hip and brought you close to him while he slammed into you. The fast movements caused the bed frame to bang against the wall as Katsuki moaned into your ear.

“S-Shit baby! Oh fuck, you feel so good. So perfect wrapped around my cock.” He groaned in your ear. The immense pleasure and husky voice had your back arching, giving your husband the chance to wrap his arm under you and flip you both over. You tried to keep the blanket covering you both as you bounced up and down his dick, but failed as the fabric traveled down to only cover your lower ass.

As you bounced, Katsuki continued to thrust up into you. His hands held onto your ass and gave it a smack from time to time. “K-Katsuki! I’m gonna cum! Please! Mm, yes! Don’t stop!”

At the sound of your voice, Katsuki’s hands went straight to your clit and ferociously rubbed at it. His actions had you throwing your head back and your pussy clenching around him. Katsuki noticeably jumped a bit when you began to tighten around his cock.

“Oh baby! God you’re squeezing me so damn tight.” He said as he kissed your chest. “F-Fuck, gonna make me put another brat inside ya. You want that? Wanna be full of my seed? Give me another one, yeah?”

You nodded your head as your eyes filled with tears due to all the pleasure. His grip on your waist grew tighter as your legs began to shake. The sound of skin slapping sped up as you and Bakugou drew closer and closer to your climax.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He screamed as you moaned loudly. You both came at the same time and to silence the both of you, Katsuki pulled you in for a kiss. You both moaned into it as your hips grinded on his dick. His hand squeezed at your ass again before giving it another smack and then soothing the stinging sensation with soft rubs.

You kiss would’ve continued had it not been for a sweet little voice coming from the doorway. “Dad?”

At the sound, Katsuki instantly jumped and flipped you both over again, covering your bodies with the large sheet. He layed atop of you while you looked away from your son. The blanket covered you both, leaving nothing but your heads exposed. “Katsuo! Hi son, what’re you..Uh what’re you doing up?”

“What’re you guys doing?” Your son asked with his doe eyes he inherited from you. Katsuki’s member throbbed from inside you and he grunted at the feeling.

“Umm...I was just- just...protecting Mom from villains!” You gawked at your husband for his idiotic response. Out of everything he could’ve said, he said that?!

“Cool! I wanna help!” Your son said starry eyed but when he took a step to come closer, Katsuki screamed out.

“N-No! Uh- no, it’s okay bud. She’s fine. Okay? Uh..please go back to your room and go back to sleep. Okay? Yes? Please?” Katsuki asked with a hurried voice. Your son only smiled and nodded before running back to his room.

You both visibly became less tensed as the two of you released relieved sighs. You turned your head to your husband who remained inside of you and slanted your eyes at him when he gave you a cheeky smile. “We sure got outta that one, huh?”

“Get the hell off of me Katsuki!” You said, pushing his face away from you. The shove caused Katsuki’s member to slip out of you and you gasped at the loss. Katsuki smirked down at you and you only grunted at him. “Really? Protecting me from villains? that’s the best that you could come up with?!”

“Well what was I supposed to say?!” He screamed.

“Uh, I DONT KNOW! Maybe, ‘Oh, Mommy’s just cold. Oh, we’re not doing anything son. Oh, THIS IS JUST A FUCKING DREAM!!’ I mean, c’mon Katsuki!” You said.

“Would you have rather had me tell him I was stuffing your pretty pussy?” He asked with a smirk. You rewarded him with a smack to his chest and a pointed finger.

“I don’t need your sarcasm.”

Katsuki only backed up a bit to see the wrecked sight of you and noticed the white cream leaking out of you and onto the bed. “Heh, what you need is for daddy to fill you up one more time.”

“Yeah right, your horny ass just wants to cum again.” You said with sass.

“Yeah, guess what? You’re right, so help me satisfy myself. Besides, you got to cum four times while I’m sitting at two,” he said while peppering your face in kisses from above. “At least let me have one more, baby.”

You smirked and this time it was you that flipped each other over. Katsuki sat up while you sat on his groin. “I’ll help you in another way, Daddy.”

You kissed his lips for a few seconds before moving south to go down on him. It has been awhile since you’ve tasted your husband so this should definitely excite him. Katsuki was definitely shocked but couldn’t stop the huge smile growing on his face. He watched you swallow his member and when you hummed with his cock sitting in your throat, he threw his head back.

“Fuck yes Princess.” His hand found way into your hair as he helped you bob your head up and down. Katsuki was in for a long, long morning.

—

Speaking of mornings, Katsuo was going to be having an exciting one. He had a morning play date with Kirishima’s son and the twin Todoroki sisters.

Akio, Kirishima’s son, came by early and so you were happy to see the two boys getting along so well, just like their fathers. With the exception of Katsuo being much more nicer than Katsuki of course. When you opened the door to greet your best friend, Momo, and her two daughters, you assured the girls that they’d have a fun time.

The twins ran in after greeting you and giving you a hug which left you a few minutes to speak to Momo before she left. You walked to the glass door that gave view of the kids in the backyard and noticed how Homura (the twin with red hair) had gone to play with Akio while Yukine (the twin with white hair) had been drawn to Katsuo.

You always noticed the little blush on your son’s face whenever Yukine came around. You thought his little crush on the icy-calm girl was absolutely adorable. “Kids!”

The little 5 year olds turned their heads to see you calling for them.

“Come inside, the movie’s almost on!” Seeing their faces perk up at the sound of the children’s movie, you giggled and motioned for them to come in. They all happily followed you and got comfy on the large couch. You placed a few snacks on the table for them before turning the T.V on. “Alright Katsuo. You’re the oldest and Mommy has some training to do. Daddy’s upstairs working if you need anything but if you’re all set, can I trust you to keep everything steady in here?”

“I promise Mom!” Your young boy joyously said. You gave him a warm smile before pecking his cheek and walking to the master bedroom to change. You walked in to find your husband on his laptop finishing his reports on the bed.

You walked to your dresser and pulled out a bathing suit. This caught your husband’s attention and had him smirking in the corner. “If you put that on, I’m assuming that’s an invitation for me to rail you~”

You giggled at his wording before walking to him and giving him a quick peck. “It’s for training dummy. I’m gonna head downstairs to the pool and workout with my water bending.”

Katsuki still held his smirk as he pushed away his laptop and pulled you into his lap. You were a bit jumpy but nonetheless settled while straddling his lap. “I have another idea for a workout and if you’re wondering, it does involve bending.”

He pulled you in for a few sweet kisses before you hovered your lips above his own to speak. You smiled as you placed your hands on his chest to keep the horn dog at bay. “What is with you recently? First it’s you coming home to fuck me stupid and now it’s getting riled up from me just holding a bikini.”

“Can you blame me? I married the most beautiful woman in the world, so please believe I’m gonna take full advantage of that.” He replied. You chuckled a bit before he pulled you in for more kisses and a little heated make out session. Your tongues came in contact and began tangling as he took you by your ass and had you grind down on him.

“Mm..Suki, stop,” you said with a laugh as you pulled away. “Seriously, there’s kids downstairs and we definitely don’t want a repeat of what happened last night with our own.”

Bakugou just huffed and groaned while slumping in his spot. You knew he wasn’t mad because as you got off of him and walked the the bedroom door, you looked back at him to see him smiling at you with eyes that carried all the love in the world. You smiled back before walking downstairs.

As you walked down the hall, you hummed a little happy tune to yourself. You love your little family so much. Your beloved husband and your precious son meant the world to you. Nothing could ruin your mood. At least, that’s what you thought before a loud smack interrupted your humming. Your head snapped to the sound and you immediately ran to the living room to check up on the kids.

—

“Are you sure you’re doing it right, Katsuo?” Yukine’s sweet voice said.

“Yeah, yeah. I think my Dad went like..this? *SMACK*” Yukine released a little yelp at the hit and that was when you caught sight of everything.

“Uh, guys?” You asked while walking into the scene. “Is everything alright in- AHHHH!”

You walked in to find Homura and Akio in the kitchen putting plates away and your son and Yukine on the couch. What made you scream was the fact that Yukine was straddling your son’s lap and you just witnessed Katsuo smack her behind. You immediately ran to the two and picked Yukine up while putting her on the couch and dragging your son by the ear up to your room while constantly saying “No, no, no, no, no, no, no...”

—

Katsuki was continuing his work after you left but after just a few minutes, you came back in constantly saying “no” as you dragged your son in by his tiny ear.

“No, no, no, no, nope! No! NO!” You said and tugged Katsuo in by the ear and shut the door. “Katsuo? Sweetie? What was that all about?”

“Woah, hey, what’s going on?” Katsuki asked, shutting his laptop and getting up from the bed. “Katsuo what’d you do?”

“Nothing! I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Mom just came in and started yelling.” Your son said in defense. Your husband looked to you in confusion but you sighed before whispering to him.

“Katsuki, I walked into the living room and Yukine was straddling Katsuo while he grabbed and smacked her ass!” You whisper-yelled. Katsuki’s eyes popped and his head snapped towards his son. On the inside, he wanted to laugh because damn his son was a playaaaaa but unfortunately he had to be a professional parent right now.

Katsuki walked to his son and crouched to his level. “Uh, Katsuo? Why did you smack Yukine? And why was she sitting on you?”

“I was doing what you did.” Katsuo simply said. Katsuki tilted his head in confusion with pointed brows as he pressed for more explanations.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“I was protecting Yukine from villains cuz I wanna be a hero, just like you Dad!” Your son said with his adorable smile. “Just like how you were protecting Mom last night!”

Katsuki visibly got choked up at the last sentence and his mouth formed an “o” as he slowly turned to look up at you. He was still crouching as he stared up at your angry form that held eyes of fury and crossed arms. You looked towards your husband with a raised brow and he began to sweat a little with a nervous laugh leaving his mouth.

“Um, okay son. You had good intentions which is great but..you see..uhhhh....Y/N?” Katsuki asked for help as he turned towards you. You sighed and dropped your head as you walked to the two and dropped down to your son’s level.

“Katsuo, the way your dad was..protecting me last night is only for adults. Not for little angels like you. So please don’t do it again, okay?” You said while holding his little hands.

“Am I in trouble Mom?” Your son asked with a small pout.

“Of course not sweetie. Your dad was right, you had good intentions. Just- please don’t do it again my love.” You said with a wavering smile. Katsuo smile and nodded before asking another question.

“Can I do it when I’m older?” He asked with his pure child innocence. You froze up a bit and Katsuki laughed a little bit you turned to him and smacked his arm to get him to shut up.

“Uh- we’ll have that talk later, bud. For now just, please don’t do it. Okay? From now on, do as I say and not as I do.” Katsuki said and Katsuo listened. He nodded his head and you released a relived sigh before standing up and glaring at your husband. You dragged him by his arm to a corner and pointed a finger into his chest.

“The next time some B.S like this happens again, you won’t have to worry about protecting me from villains for a month. Am I clear, Katsuki?” You said with slanted eyes. Your husband had a quivering smile as he looked at you in very slight fear.

“Crystal.” He replied. You walked out the room to go and check on the kids leaving the boys in the room by themselves. Once your were a good distance away, Katsuki walked over to his son and looked down at him. Katsuki looked to each side of the room before looking back at your son and speaking. “Did Yukine make a noise when you hit her?”

Katsuo nodded and Katsuki smiled down at his boy before ruffling his head and pushing him to the bedroom exit. Katsuo understood and opened the door to go back downstairs as he laughed at his father’s rough but loving treatment. As Katsuki watched his son from the bed he couldn’t help but whisper a little. “That’s my boy. So proud.”

“What?” Katsuo asked as he thought he heard his father say something. Katsuki looked everywhere in the room except at the tiny child at the door.

“Huh? What? Hm? Ah, no, no. Nothing. Uh-...go back downstairs.” He said and Katsuo nodded before exiting. Katsuki layed back down on the bed with his arms behind his head as he smiled contently at the ceiling. “*sigh* Yeah, that’s definitely my son.”

Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04

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uwuwriting · 3 years

Text

What did I miss? w/ Hawks and Dabi

Request: Okay so hear me out: Hawks’ and Dabi’s s/o (as separate headcanons, or you can just choose one) is also a pro hero/villain and the lads think she died or something and they just become enraged and they’re so distressed (and the ending is soft because she’s okay and maybe they cry) I love your writing, I hope you have a nice day! -🐍

Lol I had a similar request some time ago for our younger boys which I never got around to doing because I’m bad at fulfilling requests and following orders lol. This will be both hilarious and angsty. Well hilarious if you have my sense of humour otherwise I’ll have to add cricket sounds. Okay maybe its not that funny but oh well, it didn’t make me cry at least. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warnings: angst and fluff, mentions of injury and death, swearing.

Hawks/ Keigo Takami

-Having two winged heroes on patrol always kinda led to disaster.

-You both would race each other to your randevouz points or you would mock each other about your wing span.

- “You know what they say about your wing span? The bigger the wings well....the bigger the assets.”

-You had bigger wings then him just for a few centimeters but you rubbed it in his face all the time.

- “Why am I in love with you again?”

-It really bothers him bc you keep saying he has a smaller dick than you....and you don’t have a dick so.....yeah....anyways.

-You were on patrol once again, goofing around on a rooftop.

-It was late at night and you could be a little more handsy since there were’t many possibilities someone could walk in on you.

-Keeping your relationship a secret is hard and baby can keep his hands to himself for so long until he breaks.

-Suddenly out of nowhere you started hearing screams and cries for help.

-Keigo didn’t even get a chance to say anything before you were flying towards the building that was on FIRE.

-Dashing right after you he entered the building nad he was half expecting to see you there in the entrance, but he saw no one, only a large chunk of flaming wood etched into the mahogony floor.

-His mind immediately went to the worst scenario possible; it was like he couldn’t control his own thoughts.

-But right then, when his panic was beginning to surface, he heard you calling out for him.

-The rescue of the residents took around half an hour and it got harder and harder as time went on.

-The fire was getting out of control and was getting harder to locate everyone.

-One apartment was left in the end and you could here crying coming from inside.

-The fire was basically licking at your boots at this point but you weren’t about to let someone burn.

- “Get those last two outside and I’ll meet you at the rooftop across the street.”

- “Y/N-”

- “Keigo GO! I promise I’ll meet you outside.”

-And that was the last thing he heard from you that night.

-He did as he was told, he got the last two people out of the building and soon after them a toddler was carried out of the building.

-He waited for you to come out next but you never came.

-The flames licked at the sky, their tips seeming to be touching the moon.

-The roof collapsed in on itself making the rescue teams to back away as they looked in horror as the whole flat came crumbling down.

- “SHE’S IN THERE!”

-HE doesn’t remember much from that night.

-He knows he went back inside or at least tried to get past the debris.

-He remembers seeing the color of your wings, that beautiful white, peeking out from under a fallen beam.

-He remembers the upper floor almost crashing him as he tried to get you out and then nothing.

-He woke up in a hospital bed, dressed in one of those white robes his whole body screaming at him not to move.

-If he was being honest he forgot for a moment the events of the previous night and he was expecting to find you sleeping on the chair next to his bed, your hand in his just like you had done so many times before.

-But you weren’t there and then everything came pouring in.

-Frantically he got up and he reached for the door, yanking it open and coming face to face with a doctor.

- “Where is she?”

- “Sir you should be in bed, you injuries-”

- “goddammit WHERE IS SHE?”

-His outburst had attracted some of the nurses but he couldn’t care less about his image right now.

-Where you gone? But he remembers getting you out from under those fallen stairs. Maybe you were already dead when he reached you.

-No no no you had promised ot find him outside, you had told him so. That’s why he left, that’s why he did as you said. What was he supposed to do now? Without you here what is he supposed to do?

-Everything was muffled out, the ringing in his ears being to loud to allow him to focus on anything else.

-His breaths came out shallow as his head swam with thoughts.

-You couldn’t be gone you just couldn’t he had so much he wanted to do with you, so many things planned you couldn’t-

- “Keigo?”

-He turned around slowly.

-At first he thought he was dreaming, your voice always seemed to soothe him when he was destressed.

-But then his eyes landed on you all bandaged up and sporting crutches.

-You were hurt but you were alive, you were here, you were alright.

- “What did I miss birdbrain?”

-He launched himself at you bringing you flush to his chest as he silently cried.

-He let a few I love yous slip past his lips before you both entered the privacy of his hospital room.

-Neither of you spoke for a long time.

-You just held each other as tightly as your stitches would allow before letting all the tears fall.

- “I’m here, we’re alright.”

Dabi

-You had been sent out on a mission on your own.

-Dabi had tried to convince Shiggy to let him go with you but he refused.

- “I’m not sending you on this one with her. She is the best suited for this job and I’m not letting you mess it up just for your fuck buddy.”

-Shiggy really knows how to push Dabis’ buttons and if you ask me Dabi makes it easy at times.

-They were a pain in the ass.

-I mean you are going out on a mission let a girl get prepared in peace.

-Before they could set each other on fire and then dissolve into dust you dragged Dabi away telling Shiggy that you would be going soon.

- “Really Dabi at times I doubt if you trust me at all.”

- “It’s not that I don’t trust you dumbass. I just dontwantyoutogethurt.”

-Legit you didn’t hear anything he said but you had an inkling.

- “Oh what was that?”

- “I’m not saying it again.”

- “Here I am going out on a dangerous mission and you won’t even grant me one wish...how cruel.”

-He ended up saying it again but really really begrudgingly.

- “I’ll be back before you know it, okay?”

-You kissed his nose then his lips and let out a small I love you before heading down to the bar and getting the last info from Kurogiri.

-Now Dabi likes to see himself as a very heartless and stone cold individual.

-But you always were the exception to his behaviors so he couldn’t help but admit that he was worried.

-The mission was supposed to take three days plus one for you to return.

-It was still day two and he was ready to pull his hair out.

-But he promised you that he wouldn’t go out to search for you unless you have been gone for a week or more.

-So he just waited in agony.

-The moment though that you weren’t back in a week as you said you would be he went into a silent panic.

-He wanted to be nonchalant about it at first, just casually bringing up your whereabouts in convos with the league or asking Kurogiri of any mission reports from your end.

-Always came up with nothing.

-They had lost track of you two days ago and your last contact was yesterday.

-Now he was sure going to come after you.

-And no one could stop him.

-He knew you were strong and that you could handle yourself better than anyone in the league but he couldn’t stop himself from going after you.

-He had learned from Shiggy that the group you had targeted had a soft spot for torture if they caught someone in their territory.

-His mind of course went first to the worst case scenario, his pessimistc nature getting the better of him as flashes of you hurt on the floor of some basement ran throough his head.

-It didn’t take him long to reach your randevouz spot, mainly bc he was driving around Tokyo like a maniac.

-He entered the small house that was marked as you target and the first thing he was met with was blood.

-It was on the walls and on the floor and he couldn’t tell if this was yours or it was someone elses.

-Then he heard suffling from a closet nearby.

-It was a low scratching noise coming from the closet in the far back.

-He slowly approached it, his left arm letting small blue flames lick his fingertips as he opened the door.

-And then his heart dropped.

-Tumbling out of the closets’ interior was you, bloddied and bruised your arms barely keeping you propped up as you landed on the floor.

-He didn’t miss a beat.

-He scooped you up, moving stray hairs from your eyes as you barely kept them open.

-Your lip was split and you had a huge bruise right under your left eye.

- “Hey there baby.”

- “What the fuck happened Y/N?”

-You cringed as he moved his arms under your back, the pain being too much even for you.

- “They were waiting for me. I sent a message to Shiggy saying that I was coming back but he insisted I finish this. I managed to kill the leader but some of his rookies got to me.”

-He didn’t take you to the hideout.

-Oh no.

-If he had done that then there would be no Shiggy to lead them and there would’ve been a large fire in that area.

-He rented a room in a nearby motel.

-He let you rest while he went out and got you some disinfectants and bandages.

-Really when he was cleaning you up, if his tear ducts worked properly he would’ve cried.

-You woke up at some point while he was finishing up and you could feel his trembling and his silent sobs.

-You wrapped him in a hug, squeezing him as much as you could as you let your tears wet his t-shirt.

-His hands went up and down your sides and back, pulling you into his lap as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

- “I’m alright, see? That’s my heart beat.”

-You placed one of his palms over your heart in hopes that the subtle thud would calm him down.

-He really loves you and he won’t let anything happen to you ever again.

-Even if it kills him.

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan @the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @dnarez @bemorefiction

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cobaincreates · 3 years

Text

touch pt. 3

warnings: swearing, smut, oral (female receiving), 18+

count: 4k+

final part of touch! thank you so much for reading!

— — —

“just get the silver one with the straps. i think the purple is a bit too close on the magenta side.”

“i can wear my heels with this one.” sarah agreed, turning her hips. “do you still have those silver earrings from work? the long, dangly ones?”

“i think so, yeah. i’ll bring them over later.” you nodded at your phone screen, watching sarah fiddle with the dress she had on. the lighting from the fitting room made the dress look darker than it really was in the picture she originally sent you.

“what’s kie trying on?” you asked just as a notification popped up at the top of your screen.

rafe:

meet me on dock @ noon?

your stomach twisted as a smile immediately graced your lips. you quickly swiped out of the facetime session, hoping sarah didn’t see, as you went to reply.

“i think she’s looking for a pair of jeans she saw the last time we came. the ones with the stitched back pockets.” sarah said.

okay :), you sent.

you were met with the ceiling when you went back to facetime, staring at a small orb reflecting from the light.

“hopefully she finds them,” you said and checked the time again as you started to think about changing out of the pajamas you were still in.

you had the day off today, which so far had amounted to you skipping out on a shopping trip with sarah and kiara and settling for being lazy around an empty house. it wasn’t so bad, but you were ready to get a move on, rafe’s text motivating you.

“john b’s calling me. i’ll talk to you later?” sarah’s face suddenly appeared on the screen as she picked her phone up, her shoulders now bare. you held a peace sign above your messy bed-ridden hair and tossed your phone aside when you hung up.

it was impossible not to be smiley and giddy as you scoured your dresser for clothes to wear. who could blame you when you’d spent nearly every night this week staying up late to text back and forth with rafe. it felt like you were dreaming, like you were living in an alternate universe where you actually got something you wanted. a month ago, you never would’ve guessed that you’d be getting ready to meet up with rafe, much less be fooling around with him.

it was difficult to describe how you felt about it. obviously, you were happy and bubbling with excitement, so much so that you thought you were going to throw up anytime you reminisced on the time spent with him. you tried not to dwell on the fact that you were technically sneaking around with him, but it had only been a few times so did it really constitute as such? you knew you had to tell sarah; the only thing stopping you being that you just weren’t sure when a good time would be.

when you had gotten home the other day from the marsh, you quickly closed yourself in your room. there was no reason to hide the grin within the privacy of your own space, so you let it stay there, your cheeks hurting so much by the time you went to sleep. you couldn’t believe you’d finally kissed rafe and you even caught yourself pressing your lips together, trying to trap the sensation of it there, and closing your eyes.

and rafe finally getting a taste of you? fuck, it was perfect.

back in your room, you quickly finished getting ready. as you sprayed some perfume just for the hell of it, you thought about where you were going if he wanted to meet on his dock. you tried to picture him waiting for you. would he smile when you were too far away to see it? would his skin tingle with vibrant energy, just waiting to touch you? you swore you felt that same sensation every time you thought of him.

by the time you pulled up to tannyhill and grew closer to the house, you spotted him patiently waiting on the dock. his dad’s boat was there, rocking ever so slightly in the water. rafe looked up at the sound of your car and you parked it beside his truck, a fast-approaching heat spreading up your neck at his open windows. it was like they were encouraging you to have the thoughts of being in the back seat.

you only brought your keys with you as you got out, your phone sitting in the cup holder along with a few receipts you’d been meaning to throw out. rafe watched you as you walked over the grass and toward the wooden planks of the dock. he squinted an eye shut to watch you and you wanted to tell him that that was what the hat on his head was for, if only he turned it around. instead, you smiled at your feet.

“where is everyone?” you said over the few yards you hadn’t closed yet between you. your feet brushed over the planks, going down the small slope to where rafe was standing at the back of the boat.

“ward is out of town,” rafe said, lifting his chin a bit. “rose is doing whatever rose does with her girlfriends, wheezie is on the computer, but she’s leaving soon.” you came to a stop a couple steps away from him, fiddling with the keys in your hand. “and sarah is with kie today, which i’m sure you already knew,” he smiled at the end, like he was satisfied to have you all to himself.

“mmm,” you hummed humorously. “are you taking me out?” you asked, jutting your chin to the yacht.

rafe looked over, giving you time to run your eyes quickly down his chest and lower half. you adored the blue button up he had on, the sleeves rolled up his forearms. wasn’t he hot?

“we can’t exactly go anywhere since ward would kill me,” he looked back at you, smirking, “but i figured we could hang out here.”

“hang out?” you smiled, biting the inside of your lip slightly and tilting your head.

he nodded, his hand slipping from his pocket and extending out to you. you stared back at him as a familiar feeling pooled in your lower abdomen, one you’d felt many times around him. you never wanted it to go away, and maybe it was ridiculous to think in such a way, but you never wanted to feel it for anyone else.

pushing your keys into one hand, you reached out for his and held on. he held it firmly as he turned and went to the back platform to step onto. you followed all the way inside, feeling the cooler atmosphere in the shade. it didn’t look any different than the last time you’d been on it, just tidied up a bit more.

you set down your keys on the dining table and turned your back to lean against it. rafe was already watching you curiously.

“are you going to come over here?” you weren’t sure where it came from, but you couldn’t help yourself from asking.

he broke out into a smile and stepped closer until his feet were in front of yours. you laughed, almost nervously, and let your eyes trail up his form. stopping at his torso, you put your hand out to touch one of the buttons on his shirt. he touched your waist, causing you to breathe in shakily. he shuffled closer, your hand now pressed against his stomach and spreading a warmth up your arm. you could see his forearms flex for just a split second.

“i’ve been having a lot of fun with you, you know.” he said.

“have you?” you smiled.

you let your eyes resume their trail up his chest, gliding over the hollow of his neck, skimming his jaw. finally, your eyes connected with his.

“yeah, i have.”

“sneaking or fooling around?” you asked, moving your arms to circle around his neck. your chest pressed to his, nearly having you breathe deeper as your shirt exposed a sliver of your stomach. rafe could feel it, his palms warm over your skin.

“mostly the fooling around part.” he said proudly, holding back a smile as if it would scare you.

you had to admit that’s what you’d been enjoying too. fuck, there had been nothing more thrilling than having rafe cameron between your legs, in his truck, with no one around. it wasn’t like you to sneak around, and while it had been fun, you knew sarah needed to know.

you hummed, looking up at his hat and teasingly taking it off to place upon your own head. he brushed his newly disheveled hair then smiled down at you, his head slightly tilting. you wondered if you looked as good as he did in the hat.

“do you think sarah would kill me if she knew?” you asked seriously, not wanting to put a damper on the mood, but it had been something on your mind lately.

“no, she’d probably kill me.” he stated.

you laughed, glancing out the door to the bow of the boat, knowing he had to be right. “i have to tell her,” you sighed, imagining it for a moment. you didn’t want her to be upset.

but you had known sarah for so long that you knew in your heart she wouldn’t be mad at you. she couldn’t. if anything, she might be a little weirded out, but she would embrace it, just like you embraced john b. it had been so weird, but so right for them to get together. maybe she’d feel the exact same way about you and rafe. then again, you and rafe weren’t dating, were you?

“i’m having fun with you too,” you said, quieter this time as if another person might’ve been on the boat with you.

you looked back up at him, searching his eyes. you weren’t sure why you suddenly felt so scared, so anxious for saying that aloud. he had already admitted the same thing, so what was there to be afraid of?

a soft gasp fell from your lips as rafe pulled you closer, his hand slipping over your bottom. his eyes seemed to darken, although you couldn’t exactly tell if it was from his face moving closer. either way, it added to the pooling in your abdomen.

“sucking my dick or me eating you out?” he asked, his voice laced with lust.

you couldn’t help the blush sparking in your cheeks, heating your skin up faster than if you were to sit in front of a fire. you opened your mouth to answer him, instead watching as he disappeared and moved to your jaw. his mouth was warm and slick over your skin. you slipped your eyes closed and tightened your hold around his shoulders. god, you didn’t want him to stop.

“both,” you remembered to say, answering his question.

rafe squeezed at your ass, simultaneously moving your hips closer. you let out a breath when you brushed against him. he moved from your jaw then and found your lips.

“i thought we were just hanging out?” you teased, continuing to kiss him back in between the words. he was insatiable at the moment, never once letting you get too far away.

“we can if that’s what you want.” his breath was hot and growing heavy by the second. you smiled at the double meaning of his reply and pulled away slightly to shake your head. fuck no, you didn’t want to just hang out.

dropping your hands to the table behind you, you lifted yourself up and sat before tugging him in between your legs. you locked him in place with your thighs and reached up to connect your lips again. he obliged, running his tongue along your bottom lip in question. you happily allowed him access, making a small noise as you felt the pooling seep to your undies now.

his hands settled on your thighs for a little, gliding against your skin and sending shivers in each direction. you pushed your chest against his, wanting nothing more than to touch him, to feel him, to have his hands everywhere on your body. you nearly groaned in agony just wanting to ask him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. but it wasn’t long before he brought a hand up your side and rested over your breast. it was so warm and cupped you so nicely that you contemplated just letting it stay there, but your arousal told you differently.

pulling away, you managed to take your shirt off fast enough that you should’ve won the world record. you knocked rafe’s hat off while doing so, hearing it fall to the table behind you.

“fuck,” rafe swooned over your exposed chest.

he slipped an arm around your lower back, pulling you closer to the edge of the table and simultaneously against his bulge. you moaned and arched into his hand on your breast again, his grip gently kneading over your bra. what would his lips feel like there? you almost wish you could’ve found out the other day in the truck, but this…this was better.

feeling rather curious, or just very horny, you decided to rub your hips into rafe’s, feeling how hard he was. you felt the muscles in his back turn to steel, the noise against your lips contradicting it. his hand dropped from your breast to join his other at your lower back and you reveled in the way he gripped you tighter against his own body.

“fuck, i want you rafe, please.” you said, feeling the throbbing in your lips from kissing so much. you felt it just as much behind your shorts, your undies were practically drenched. you were so wet and you didn’t want to wait anymore for him to know it.

“i-i want you too,” he panted, loosening his grip.

he was very reluctant to pull away, to lose touch of you, but he was quick and excited as he pulled his shirt off, ripping some of the buttons. it made you laugh, your chest heaving for breath as you watched. he reached for your shorts next, moving fast and taking them off with your underwear at the same time. you didn’t mind, drawing your lip between your teeth, lifting your hips as you watched him do so. he pushed his bottoms off, fishing in his pocket for a condom he cleverly packed.

you drank in the sight of him, your thighs clenching together at the sight of his arousal and the dark curls surrounding him. for a second it felt like you shouldn’t be looking, that this was too private and not meant for your eyes, but once you looked up at his face and took in the way he was doing the same exact thing to you, you melted.

“you’re fucking pretty, you know that?” he said as he came back in between your legs, pushing your hair out of your eyes, and giving you a firm kiss.

“seems like you tell me a lot.” you answered and reached out to touch him gently. he sucked in a breath as your hand wrapped around him, your fingers registering that lovely vein again.

you could probably stare at your hand all day and revel in that vein, but instead you lifted your head and attached your lips to rafe’s neck. his hands went behind you so he could open the packet and it probably would’ve taken him a shorter amount of time if you weren’t sucking a mark into his skin and slowly rubbing him. he moaned lowly before getting the packet open successfully. you spent a few more seconds on his neck, then licked over the spot and pulled away.

rafe’s hand came over your wrist. he squeezed lightly then pulled your hand to his mouth, pressing a light kiss to your palm. he held your hand for a moment while he leaned in to press a kiss to your mouth. “can i taste you first?”

“o-okay,” you nodded quickly. “yeah.”

you practically reeled as he crouched down to his knees in front of you and brought a leg over his shoulder. you moved to the very edge of the table, having a slight thought of falling completely off, but you had a feeling rafe would catch you or you’d both laugh it off.

those thoughts completely disappeared as rafe put his mouth on you. you pulled a lip between your teeth, watching him as he did.

“fuck, you’re so wet for me.” he noted and gripped your thighs before licking a long stripe up your folds.

one of his hands slipped from your leg and you wondered what he was doing for a second, before you saw the muscles flexing in his shoulder. that got you even hotter, knowing that he was touching himself while having his mouth on you. you nearly couldn’t think straight as he licked you again. he dipped into your entrance and you swallowed a whimper when he decided to leave you like that.

you watched him stand back up and lick his lips as he rolled the condom on, your stomach flipping and rolling in anticipation. you swallowed thickly and looked up at rafe when he was ready, his hand gentle as it appeared on your hip.

“are you ready?” he asked in a deep breath. “if you want to stop, just tell me, okay?”

“okay,” you nodded with a small smile.

you spread your legs wider and looked down at the same time as rafe so you could watch him. you breathed slowly to relax, watching as he guided himself to your entrance and slowly moved inside of you. your mouth fell open as a result, your arms nearly giving out. he opened you up the more he slid in, his palm on your thigh pressing more and more until he was completely inside.

“s-shit,” you panted and let your head fall back for a moment.

you breathed, closed your eyes. you tried to remember everything. you wanted to remember everything about this moment, about what it was like to have rafe inside of you. christ, you’d been in this same spot a week ago, daydreaming about his damn arms and veins and whole entire being. you’d lusted after him, tasted him, had him taste you, and now here you were. how the fuck did you get here?

you took a deep breath and leaned your head up. rafe’s mouth was open, his grip now like a vice on your thigh.

“fuck, you feel so good,” rafe said. “just like i imagined.”

you nearly whined at that and pressed your thighs into his hips to hold him in place. you licked your lips and pulled his mouth to yours, inviting him to move finally. he pulled his hips back slowly, holding onto you before moving back it. he did it a couple times, trying to get you used to him. fuck, he felt amazing.

rafe set a pace, his hand making a home on your lower back while his other held your leg up behind your knee. you couldn’t get enough of his praises each time he pulled away from you.

“god, you’re perfect,” he moaned, slipping his tongue into your mouth. “you fit so nicely around me, baby.”

you also couldn’t get enough of that damn pet name. it sounded even better falling from his lips in this exact moment.

“you’re taking my cock so well.”

with that praise you couldn’t help the way you fluttered around him, squeezing him tightly and causing both of you to moan. he almost lost his rhythm for a moment but got it back as he kissed the corner of your lips down to your jaw. you kept your eyes closed, you found it easier so you could focus on just feeling him.

he pressed kisses down your neck, stopping at a few places to nip. it tickled you and aroused you at the same time, if not more. a minute later, he found his way to your breast, your back arching again to push into his mouth. his tongue appeared, flicking over your nipple.

“rafe,” you moaned louder than before and tightened your legs around him as you felt that coil wind up. “go f-faster.”

he groaned against you, the vibrations traveling all the way down to your core. he picked up the pace and groped you now, giving your breast a squeeze while his tongue flicked again. his teeth skimmed over it before he bit down gently, making your hand fly to his hair to keep his head where it was.

his thumb appeared on your clit and you had a feeling that he was about to completely ruin you. his mouth popped off of you and he leaned in for a kiss, his lips wet and swollen. wrapping an arm around his shoulders, you cried out as he grabbed a tight hold of your hip and picked up the pace, your skin starting to smack. you felt yourself squeeze around him as his tongue played with yours and it was almost too much that you had to pull away from the sensation.

“holy— f-fuck. rafe, i'm s-so close.”

“you gonna come for me?” his breath blew across your face, overly warm and heavy. “come for me. i want to feel you come on my cock, baby.”

his thumb timed up with his hips now, making your eyes prick with tears as you squeezed them shut tightly. you gripped rafe’s shoulder, trying to hold onto something as you felt it coming.

“that’s it, come on. i got you.” he coaxed you through it so gently that it made you want to sob.

instead, you cried out as you reached your climax, feeling yourself pulse and squeeze around rafe as you came over him. your whole body twitched and tensed as rafe kept circling your clit, helping you through it. you moaned lowly from your chest, your head falling backward and your eyes relaxing. you had no idea rafe was so close behind until his forehead fell to yours and his thrusts slowed. he pulled out and thrusted hard, doing that a few times until he came undone too. you felt him pulse inside of you, emptying into the condom in spurts. you wished you could taste it again.

you drew your face into his neck, still gripping his shoulder. your palm was sweating against the table behind you and you wondered how you lasted so long holding yourself up the whole time. your heartbeat gushed less in your ears as the minutes went by and your body relaxed against rafe’s. you still felt so full, wanting to keep him there longer.

pressing a kiss to that hollow between your neck and shoulder, rafe rubbed your back soothingly. “you did so good, baby.”

you hummed into his skin then pulled away to brush his hair and kiss him softly. “thank you,” you said quietly, not exactly for the compliment.

you made a noise close to a whine when rafe moved out of you. you knew he had too, watching as he pulled the condom off and tied it closed. he went to the trash bin in the kitchen to toss it while you reluctantly moved off the table. you slid, looking back to see a small mess you made with rafe on the surface.

just when you were about to ask rafe for something to clean it up with, he came back with a rag already in his hand. he held it out to you and you smiled, knowing he got it for you. you cleaned between your legs than folded the rag a couple times before wiping the table clean.

rafe’s hand came to your sides, caressing softly over your skin. you smiled at his chest, touching his arms and warming up at the thought of what you two had just done. he pulled you closer just to hold you, his hands roaming to your back. it was comforting to have the silence to touch each other, to just be for a few quiet moments.

“as much as i would love to just stand here with you, i'm a little paranoid that someone can easily see in here.” you said after a while, looking right at the open door to the back deck of the boat.

“maybe you should’ve thought about that before we fucked on the table.” rafe said and you could hear the stupid grin on his face.

you nudged him away jokingly as you laughed, but he switched to a serious look when he tugged you back by the hips. you swallowed as you felt him against your thigh, nearly ready to go again. you looked up at rafe, biting your lips together to keep the grin at bay.

“do you want to go inside?” he smiled softly, glancing down at your lips.

“yes,” you nodded.

you pulled away to pull your clothes on. rafe teased you with your undies, holding them out for you to take, then snatching them out of reach. you jabbed him in the side until he gave them to you, a teasing grin on his face.

your shirt settled around you and you looked at rafe just as he caught your wrist and tugged you closer. his lips connected with your cheek and he hugged you against him, warm and solid. it was familiar, something you didn’t think you’d be able to say about him. you looped your arms around his shoulders and hugged him back.

“what?” you asked when you pulled away, finding another dumb smile on his face.

“think we could do this again sometime?” he searched your eyes, glancing down at your lips.

you laughed and rolled your eyes, knowing that’s exactly what you were about to do once you got inside the house. why would he ask such a silly thing?

“of course,” you said anyways before pushing him away to get your keys.

you headed inside with him, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist. you wondered how you looked, walking into tannyhill with him. you knew by the smile on your face that you were happy, and you guessed that he was too by the way he was holding you against him.

“wheezie?” rafe shouted into the house as he closed the door behind you two, his hand clasped tightly around yours.

silence followed his voice as you looked around the entryway, trying your best to hear for wheezie’s movements, or anybody’s voice. coast clear, you wanted to say but rafe beat you to it.

“fuck yes,” he sighed happily and pulled you by the hips to him. you laughed against his lips, kissing him back as you kicked your shoes off.

the next few seconds were filled with stumbling up the stairs like two drunks, pausing every so often just so rafe could kiss you, rafe making grabby hands at you and hardly letting you go. it’s a wonder how you even made it up the stairs. you giggled at him once you got into his room, him quick to toss his shirt to the floor, and closed the door.

—

“hello?”

your head snapped to rafe beside you, who was still working on catching his breath. sarah was home and you immediately panicked as you sat up.

“anybody home?” she called again, sounding so sweet like she was.

“up here!” rafe shouted, bare ass as can be and making your jaw go slack.

you smacked his thigh, the sound cracking sickeningly, before you scrambled off the bed to pull your clothes on.

“stop hitting me,” he laughed and lifted himself up to watch you stumble putting your shorts on.

“fuck off!” you whispered as if you had a chance at avoiding the impending situation. you pulled your shirt on roughly, completely forgetting a bra as you walked out of rafe’s room.

you managed to close his door completely and meet sarah at the top of the stairs. she looked up at you, surprised, carrying a few shopping bags.

“hey?” she greeted. “i could’ve sworn i heard my brother instead.”

oh beautiful, sweet, smart sarah. was there any way out of this?

“i need to tell you something.” you said quickly and bit your lip anxiously.

sarah lifted an eyebrow at you, searching your face. you took an unsteady deep breath in. she won’t be mad, she won’t be mad, she won’t be mad. there was no way you could postpone this. this had to be done now otherwise you’d never forgive yourself. it’s so simple! you just have to say the words, just admit it. sarah, listen, i'm sl—

“you forgot this.” rafe’s voice came from behind you, making your stomach drop and sarah’s eyes completely divert over your shoulder.

turning slowly, you were absolutely mortified to see him holding your bra so comfortably. and he looked so proud too. god, you were going to kill him. that’s it, you were going to kill him. well, it had been nice while it lasted.

“oh my god,” you and sarah said at the same time.

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355 notes · View notes

es-kay-zee · 3 years

Text

Advice | Seo Changbin x Reader

pairing: changbin x reader

genre: smut

warnings: very very soft dom! reader (like, ridiculously soft), sub! idol, afab reader, oral (m receiving), piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, praise

requested: yes

word count: 4.3k

proofread: surprisingly yes :) although it was very brief so there could still be mistakes lol

taglist: @bxngchxn @jisungsplatforms @qtieskz @vogueinnie

a/n: feedback is always appreciated! i thrive off of it! i love hearing what you guys think about my writing so feel free to let me know what y'all think of this one :)

____________________

A loud knock at your door was the last thing you expected at 11.43pm on a Tuesday night. Especially in the middle of a pandemic. But the most surprising part about it, was when you opened the door, you found your co-worker Changbin standing outside.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, peering over his shoulder and seeing his car parked on the side of the road.

“I need your help,” he replies, holding up various work folders, using the best pleading look he can muster up.

“You came all this way, just for some advice on a case?”

“Yeah. I know it’s late. I just-” he pauses for a second, sighing deeply and running a hand down his face. “I just need to have this done by the day after tomorrow, and I’m struggling with it. It keeps playing on my mind and I haven’t been able to get a good night’s sleep because of it.”

You take a deep breath, weighing your options. It’s not uncommon for Changbin to ask your advice on occasion, especially considering you’re a few years his senior, but what is uncommon is for him to show up at your house to ask. And you were just about to head to bed.

“Okay, come in,” you say before you can stop yourself, and you aren’t entirely sure why you invite him in. Sure, he needs the advice, but you’re tired and want sleep. You could’ve asked him to come back in the morning. But he’s here now and you’ve already invited him in. “Just put the stuff out on the coffee table.”

He does as you instruct, walking towards the couch, taking a seat and spreading some of the folders out on the small table.

“You want anything to drink?” you ask, walking towards the kitchen.

“Maybe just a glass of water, thanks,” he calls back.

You return to the living room, two glasses in your hands. You sit down next to Changbin, placing the glasses on the table, one in front of him and the other in front of yourself. He picks up his glass, takes a sip, and clears his throat before beginning to explain the case and what he needs help with. A short while passes, filled with him asking questions and you answering as best as you can. But you can’t help but notice that Changbin’s eyes keep running down your body every now and then. It’s obvious that he thinks he’s being subtle about it but based on the fact that you’ve watched him do it almost every time means that he’s anything but. It’s even more obvious how distracted he is, because of the number of times he asks you to repeat what you’ve said throughout the night so far.

An idea pops into your had, a rather devilish thought. You don’t know what compels you to do it, maybe it’s the crush you’ve had on him for the past year, or maybe it’s just the desire to get him worked up. You’re not entirely sure, but you do it anyway. You stand up, and Changbin’s eyes flick over to you, but he’s quick to avert his gaze back to the files on the table, not wanting to be caught staring at you. And that’s the moment you initiate your plan, quickly undoing the top two buttons of your black satin pajama shirt while he’s not looking. You round the table and take a seat on the floor, across from Changbin. You have to hold back a laugh when his eyes immediately land upon the now exposed skin of your chest. It’s entertaining, how just a simple pop of a button has the man so flustered.

You lean forward, further emphasising your cleavage under the guise of looking at the files, and it’s faint, but you can hear the low groan that leaves Changbin’s parted lips. You look up at him, and you can’t hide the smirk at the way his eyes are fixated on your chest. He hasn’t even noticed you looking at him.

“My eyes are up here,” you say, and the way Changbin jumps slightly at your words is almost enough to make you laugh.

“Uh, yeah, sorry.” The tips of his ears are red, and judging by the bulge in his sweatpants, the tip of his dick is probably the same colour. He’s quick to catch you looking at his bulge, grabbing one of your couch cushions and placing it over his lap, blocking the view from your eyes.

“Do you need any more help?” you ask, holding up a file. But the way your eyes continue to stare at his obscured lap makes it obvious that you’re not talking about the case. He clutches the cushion tighter, squirming slightly in his seat at the added pressure on his crotch. He doesn’t say anything in response to you, and you shake your head slightly at the silence. “C’mon, baby boy. You can tell me.”

The way his eyes widen at the nickname has you thinking you’ve gone too far. But the quiet whine that leaves his throat lets you know that it’s okay, that he likes it. He mumbles something under his breath, but you can’t quite make out the words.

“What was that? You’ve gotta speak up,” you say, keeping your voice calm and gentle, wanting to gently coax him into saying what he wants to say.

“C-can I kiss you?” he repeats. His question is cute, and you can’t help cooing quietly when he says the words.

“Of course,” you reply, standing up and walking back around the coffee table towards Changbin. You slowly pick up the cushion and place it to the side, replacing it’s previous position with yourself. You straddle his lap, your clothed core resting right above his bulge. You want to grind down against him, but you don’t. He asked for a kiss and that’s what you’re going to give him.

You pause before leaning in, taking a moment to look at his face, his silently pleading eyes and his pouting lips. He looks absolutely beautiful. And just before he can let out an impatient whine, you connect your lips with his, your hands resting upon his cheeks while his find their place on your waist. Your lips are soft, softer than he thought they would be, and the press of them against his own makes him feel like he’s in heaven, dancing among the highest clouds. Immediately, he’s intoxicated, drunk on the feeling of your lips. If he could somehow live without the need for oxygen, he’d never pull away, he’d be content to kiss you for the rest of time.

And just when he thinks it can’t get any better, you tangle your fingers into his dark hair. Your grip is firm, but you do not tug, there’s no need to when he’s already loving what you’re giving. Besides, there’s something fun in the gentleness, in the sweet, slow movements of yours and his lips. There’s no rush to feel more, no rush to indulge in anything more than what’s happening in the moment.

And when you do finally pull back, it’s not for lack of desire. You’re stopped only by the burning in your lungs, you’re body’s necessity for air growing greater than your heart's yearning to keep kissing him. The only sound that can be heard in the otherwise silent room is yours and his breathing, until you speak.

“Should we go to the bedroom?” you ask, wanting to be sure that he wants this as much as you do. You keep your voice quiet, no more than a hushed whisper, worrying that speaking any louder will somehow tarnish the calm atmosphere of the room.

He knows he shouldn’t do this. It crosses so many boundaries between his personal and professional life. For starters, you’re his co-worker, add to that the major crush he has on you and it’s bound to be a disaster. Emotionally. He cares about you, admires you. Sleeping with you will only amplify his feelings. But he’d be damned if he didn’t want this so badly.

“Yeah, we should,” he replies, speaking just as quietly as you.

Slowly, you stand up, taking his hand in yours and leading him down the hallway. He admires you from behind as you walk, his heart racing in excitement. He can’t believe he got to kiss you, let alone getting the chance to do more with you. You walk into your bedroom, still hand-in-hand with the man behind you. You stop, turning to face him. It’s cute, the way his eyes are wide, looking at you as if he doesn’t want to miss anything. You take a step closer to him, connecting your lips with his in another gentle kiss before grabbing the hem of his shirt and slowly lifting it up. Once his shirt is off, you lean in, whispering in his ear.

“Do you wanna take off my clothes or do you wanna watch me do it?” A shudder runs through his body from your breath tickling his skin, and he still can’t believe this is happening. Both options sound like a dream come true, but he knows which one he prefers.

“Watch, please.”

“Then get on the bed, pretty boy.”

Your words send another shiver down his spine, but maybe that’s just the nickname. He loves it, the way you talk so sweetly, the way you treat him so gently. He wishes he could live in this moment forever. He does as you say, climbing onto the bed, leaning against the headboard, sitting with a perfect view of you. And watching you strip becomes his favourite movie, something he could watch over and over and never grow tired of. The way your fingers dance over the buttons of your pajama shirt, slowly undoing them has him wishing he had a photographic memory. Wanting to engrave this image of you in his mind forever.

Your shirt falls to the floor, and your satin shorts do the same, revealing a pair of simple underwear underneath. If you were expecting company like this, then you probably would’ve worn a nicer pair, maybe one of your lacy ones. But Changbin couldn’t care less what kind of underwear you’re wearing; you look stunning nonetheless. You slowly crawl up the bed, until your face hovers over his. He pouts his lips, silently asking for another kiss, and as much as you want to give it to him, you want to hear him ask first.

“Use your words,” you say, but there’s nothing demanding about the way your speak, giving the instruction calmly and quietly.

“Can I please have another kiss?”

You nod once, kissing him again. This time the kiss is deeper, but still just as soft. Slowly, delicately, you place your hands against Changbin’s chest, running them downwards. And as your fingertips trace down Changbin’s torso, he’s sure that they’re made of electricity, for wherever they touch his skin tingles in a frenzy of static. It’s his new favourite thing, the way your touch ignites him in ways that nothing else ever has, or ever will be able to.

Your fingers reach the waistband of his sweatpants, and you toy with the drawstring. You want to draw this out, want to build up to the moment you finally touch him. Your lips never stop moving against his as you gradually, almost leisurely pull his sweatpants down. He raises his hips to help you, even aiding in gently kicking them off his ankles. His underwear remains on, just as yours still is, for now. Your lips move from his to his neck, placing soft pecks just under his jaw.

“Can I mark you?” you ask, breath fanning across his skin, and he’s in love with the feeling. He adores that you ask, that you take into consideration what he wants. He knows that that’s common courtesy, that everyone is expected to ask. But that doesn’t stop his heart from warming at the sound of your words.

He nods, mumbling a quiet “please” before you do just that, softly sucking on his skin. There’s no quickness to the way your lips move, no hurry in the way the marks form along the column of his throat and along his collarbones. The blemishes aren’t dark, they don’t need to be. It’s all about the pleasure of their creation, not necessarily what they represent. Ownership. You’re not trying to own him, to claim him as yours. You’re wanting to make him feel good, to make him feel as if he’s floating among the clouds. And it’s already working, you can tell from the happy sighs escaping his lips with every gentle suck of your own. You begin travelling lower and lower with each touch of your lips, no longer marking him.

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper against his skin, and his face warms at the praise. Your lips don’t stop until they reach the waistband of his underwear, being blocked from kissing any more of him. Your slide your fingers under the edge of the clothing, looking up at him to make sure he’s okay with this. He nods slowly, almost pleadingly, and you smile at him. Just as slowly as you removed his sweatpants, you do the same with his underwear, watching the way his cock finally springs free from the confines of his clothes.

You lower your head again, and he watches the way you press kisses along his v-line. Normally he wouldn’t have the patience for this, he’d be begging you to touch him. But it’s you. And he could wait for hours and hours if he had to for you to finally touch him.

“You’re being such a good boy for me, so patient,” you mumble just loud enough for Changbin to hear you. Your eyes connect with his, and you smile at the way his eyes light up at the praise. “I think that earns you a treat.”

Another kiss, this time to the tip of his dick, and the way he sucks in a breath of air at the feeling is now one of your favourite sounds. But you know that his moans will sound even better. And you’re right, your ears finally being blessed with the sound of one of his moans when you finally take him into your mouth. You don’t take him all the way, just focusing your efforts on the head, but he doesn’t care how much of him you take. He’s just grateful that you’re even doing this, and if he wasn’t pinching himself right now, then he’d be sure that he’s dreaming. It feels too good, too heavenly to be real. But it is real.

You bob your head, movements slow, sensual, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, running along his slit. It’s divine, the taste of his precum hitting your tastebuds. It’s not normally a flavour you seek out, but right now you can think of nothing better. You look up, wide eyes looking into Changbin’s as you continue, movements never speeding up. You watch the way his hands clutch at the bedspread, trying to find something he can grip to keep himself grounded. He wants to get lost in the pleasure, but not too lost that he misses anything you’re doing.

You bring one of your hands up, linking your fingers together with his. His grip on your hand is tight, secure, and you know that this is the moment to do it. You take him all the way in, somehow managing to not gag in the process. His back arches, another moan escaping him. It’s still quiet, but he doesn’t have to be loud. You bob your head a few more times before pulling away, not wanting to get him too close to the edge just yet. You want to make him cum, but not in your mouth. You want to fuck him first. It’s not until you’re wiping the runaway spit from your chin that you finally register the throbbing between your own legs. But you’re distracted from that again when Changbin asks for yet another kiss. And who are you to say no?

You kiss him, sliding your tongue into his mouth to dance with his own. He groans at the taste of himself, absolutely loving it. You stand up, ridding yourself of your underwear before straddling Changbin again. You take him into your hand, not wanting him to go too long without pleasure. You line him up with your entrance, your dripping essence too much to ignore any longer.

The stretch stings as you slowly slide down onto his cock, and you know you should’ve done more to prep yourself. But you can’t bring yourself to care, especially with the way Changbin sighs so happily at finally being inside your walls. Tight, warm, it’s pure heaven as he fills you to the brim. You remain still for a moment, giving yourself time to adjust to his size. And not once does he complain. Not once does he ask you to move, too busy just letting himself feel you. Letting himself feel the way you clench around him, the way you completely envelop him.

“You’re so big, Binnie.”

Another nickname. Another nickname that makes him feel good. And the praise. He absolutely loves it.

You slowly lift your hips and drop back down just as slowly. Fast bounces are fun, they feel good, but nothing beats the sensuality of slow movements, of sweet, gentle sex. You set a slow pace, one that lets you both feel everything. You grab Changbin’s wrists, bringing his hands up and placing them on your breasts. He’s quick to swipe his thumbs over your nipples, rubbing over the perked nubs as your hips keep moving, bouncing and grinding unhurriedly. His head drops back, the pleasure he’s feeling making him unable to keep his eyes open. He tells himself that if something happened right now and he died, then he would die a happy man.

It feels so good, and he can already feel himself gradually approaching his release, and you can tell from the slight shaking of his thighs and the way his breathing picks up. You bring one of your hands to your clit, wanting to get yourself closer to that edge of ultimate pleasure. You rub languid circles against the bud, making you clench tighter around Changbin’s cock. His moans increase, not in volume but in frequency and pitch, and the sound is music to your ears. A song you could listen to forever.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” Changbin says, his voice breathy. You lean down closer to him, whispering into his ear.

“You can cum in me.” You clench as you say the words, and that tips him over the edge, causing him to spill inside your walls. You bounce once, twice more before you cum as well, burying your face into the crook of his neck. You continue to grind against him, riding out your highs until the both of you come back down.

The room is filled with heavy breathing, and it’s several minutes before you climb off of Changbin. Your legs are jelly when you stand up, tired from riding him, but you don’t mind. You could deal with wobbly legs every day if it meant you got to make him feel good. You get dressed again, telling Changbin you’re going to go get you both a glass of water before doing just that. By the time you come back with the glasses, he’s redressed as well, sitting on the bed. He takes the one you hold out for him, gulping down the water.

“You’re welcome to stay the night, if you want,” you say before an awkward silence can fill the room. “It’s getting kinda late and that way I can help you with the case in the morning, seeing as that’s the whole reason you showed up.”

If sleeping with you was Changbin’s first mistake of the night, agreeing to stay was his second. Not that he regrets either choice, but he’s not sure exactly what it is that makes him say yes to staying overnight. Maybe it’s the way he feels about you, or maybe it’s just that he really does need advice on the case and it’s easier to stay than come back the next day. At least, the latter is what he keeps telling himself is the reason.

You offer him your bed, and you hope he accepts, but instead, he opts to sleep on the couch, not wanting to intrude on your already generous hospitality. And so, that’s what he does. He sleeps on the couch. You give him your cuddliest blanket to keep him warm, and one of your nicer pillows, wanting him at least to be as comfortable as possible. He finds the gesture sweet, and he smiles warmly at you before bidding you a good night. You sleep alone, but you’re comforted by the knowledge that he doesn’t regret what happened. At least, not enough to leave.

When Changbin awakes in the morning, it’s to the smell of pancakes wafting from the kitchen. He smiles at the aroma before eventually opening his eyes. He spots the files on the coffee table and is immediately reminded of what transpired the previous night. He can hear you humming a tune while you cook, and it only serves to further broaden his already wide smile.

He sits up, quickly stretching his tired body before standing. He walks towards the kitchen, leaning against a wall to quietly watch you as you gently dance around as you cook. There’s something he loves about seeing you like this, seeing you in your natural being, not being confined by the expectations of a professional work environment. Just watching you, he can tell that he really likes you, even more than he did before. He wouldn’t say it’s love, he doesn’t know you quite well enough for that yet, but maybe someday he can work up the courage to confess his feelings to you. Not today, but definitely someday. You spin around, jumping slightly when greeted with the sight of Changbin, his hair still dishevelled from sleep.

“Good morning,” you greet, a bright smile lighting up your face. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“I am.”

“Good, because you’re pancakes are…” you pause, grabbing one more pancake from the pan before sliding it onto one of the two plates, both already containing a stack each, “done. I don’t know what toppings you like, so I just grabbed out all the ones that I have, and figured I’d let you decorate your pancakes until your heart’s content.”

You hand him the plate as you finish speaking, gesturing to the other bench upon which sits numerous different toppings. There’s a small bag of mixed berries, chocolate, caramel and maple syrup, whipped cream, and even a tub of vanilla ice cream. He weighs up his options before coming to a decision, placing two extra-large scoops of ice cream on his pancakes along with a generous drizzle of chocolate syrup. He looks around for some cutlery, hoping to find some without having to go searching too far. But he’s out of luck, unable to see any anywhere on the kitchen bench.

“Knives and forks?” he asks, waiting for you to tell him which draw they’re in without having to go searching on his own.

“On the table,” you reply, pointing to the dining table where there's two places that have been set.

“Ah, which seat’s yours?” he asks, walking towards the table, plate of pancakes in hand.

“Either one, I’m not too fussed.”

With a nod of his head, Changbin chooses a seat and sits down, waiting patiently for you to put toppings on your own pancakes and also take a seat. Only when you start to eat does Changbin do the same. You both have idle chit-chat over breakfast, the small conversation flowing easily. The pancakes are delicious, and he’s sure to tell you that multiple times.

Once you both finish, Changbin offers to do the dishes as his thank you for making breakfast. You tell him he doesn’t have to, that you can just get to them later on in the day, but he insists, telling you it’s the least he can do after your kindness to him. Truth be told, you don’t like doing dishes, so it doesn’t take too much for him to persuade you into letting him do them for you.

You stay sitting at the table while he scrubs the dishes, watching his arm muscles as he does so. You can’t help but think to yourself that he truly is beautiful, a sculpture carved by the best of the best. He’s magnificent. You shake yourself from your wandering thoughts, reminding yourself that there’s a reason he stayed the night.

“You still wanting help with that case?”

“Yes, please. It’s due so soon and I’m sure I won’t meet the deadline without some help. So, if you’re willing to help then I will absolutely accept it.”

“Of course, once you’ve finished with those dishes then we can pick up where we left off last night,” you say, smiling softly. You can tell his mind goes straight back to the events that happened the night before because of the way his ears go red. It’s adorable, how just the thought of what happened has him flustered. He clears his throat, nodding quickly at your words and continuing to clean the dishes.

Once they’re done and dried, you both walk back over to the coffee table, each taking a seat on the couch. You gather some of the scattered files, sorting them out tidily. Changbin watches you move, happy to finally be getting some much-needed advice from his favourite co-worker.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #changbin smut #seo changbin smut #skz changbin smut #stray kids changbin smut

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luffles424 · 3 years

Text

Theory into Practice

☼ Pairing: Yoonji x reader x Jungkook

☼ Genre: fluff, smut, pwp (with some plot), teeny bit of angst, f2l, college au (technically more so grad school au)

☼ Count: 10.2K

☼ Warnings: 18+, drug use (pot), mentions of alcohol use, threesome, dom!Yoonji, dom!reader, sub!Jungkook, big dick!Jungkook, teasing, dirty talk, one thigh smack, thigh riding, fingering, hair pulling, breast play, oral (f & m receiving), face sitting, unprotected (pls stay safe), aftercare

☼ Summary: A normal night in with Yoonji leads to some interesting revelations with her and surprisingly, Jungkook.

☼ a/n: lmao it’s been a while. Hope you enjoy the Yoonji thirst, my girl doesn’t have enough fics out there. Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~

———

“Who of our friends do you think is the subbiest?”

You blink. It’s really a testament to how much you and Yoonji have smoked tonight that your immediate reaction isn’t to splutter at her question. Instead, you just blink slowly, the question slowly making its way through your synapses before you can articulate a response. You take another hit, using it to buy yourself a little more time. Holding the joint back out to her, you let the smoke slowly seep from your lips.

“Who says I’ve thought about it?”

You know exactly who you want to be subbiest. But you’re not going to reveal that. Maybe not yet. You might be high, but you still have enough of your wits to keep from spilling things you want to keep hidden. You’ve had good practice at that, smoking often with her and never divulging your crush, even when the topic of partners has come up. Which does come up fairly often as you both attempt to navigate dating while in grad school.

There’s a snort from the other end of the couch and Yoonji’s head lulls against the back of it so she can fix you with hazy, unimpressed eyes, though there’s a smirk just barely tugging at her lips. “I didn’t. But we’re talking about it now.”

Pursing your lips, you think of how to respond. In truth, you’ve thought about it a little, but not particularly in relation to your whole group of friends. Maybe just a person or two who you were particularly interested in that are in said friend group. Most notably, the women sitting on the other end of the couch from you currently.

Yoonji laughs, foot kicking out to nudge you, and you grin at the flood of happiness that always accompanies hearing her laugh. “Damn, it’s not that deep. Why are you thinking so hard?”

Catching her foot, you dig your thumb into the sole of her foot, causing you both to dissolve into giggles. “We have a lot of friends,” you shoot back. An excuse and you both know it.

You and Yoonji have been friends for too long for you to really be able to avoid answering a direct query. It’s only been luck that has kept your crush hidden from her. You’ve been friends since you met in 2nd year of undergrad, paired randomly as roommates and then continuing to remain roommates until even now when you live off campus in an apartment together. And many of your friends have come together and you both now share a common friend group.

Once Yoonji wrestles her foot free of your tickling grasp, she shifts in her seat, face far more serious than the topic at hand should really call for. “Fine, fine. I’ll accept your excuse,” she gives you a look that’s hard to interpret, though you mostly just don’t want to think too hard about the calculating look she’s giving you. It leaves you feeling exposed, like she can read your thoughts and knows all of your deepest secrets. Which is partially true, you and Yoonji share everything, save your feelings for her. “Which way do you think Jimin goes?”

She’s really going to make you do this? Well, you might as well give some actual thought to this. “With his praise kink? Definitely more sub leaning?”

Yoonji raises an eyebrow. “Leaning?”

“Well yeah. He’s definitely a switch. You’ve seen how he is when he’s focused. But he also likes helping others. Plus,” you pause, mostly just to be dramatic as you smirk knowingly, Yoonji leaning closer as she waits for what you’re going to say next, “Siyeon said he’s as good a dom as he is a sub.”

Scoffing, Yoonji reaches over to give you a little shove. “That’s cheating!”

You giggle, catching her hand before she pushes again. “It’s not!”

“It is! That’s insider information! This is supposed to be our opinion.”

Waving her off, you settle back onto the couch. “I gave my opinion. I would’ve had that before Siyeon told me. All she did was confirm.” You pause thoughtfully for a moment. You don’t want this to be all you, so you pose the next friend to her instead. “What about Seokjin?”

Yoonji drums her fingers on her bare thigh and you have to fight the urge to get lost in staring at the vast expanse of smooth, exposed skin she’s subjecting you to tonight while you’re impaired like this. You want to know if they’re as soft as they look. You know her hands aren’t, not anymore since she started learning guitar, finger’s growing rough and calloused. The first time she had held your hand after had startled you, now you love feeling the slight roughness brush against your skin. Dragging your gaze from her fingers to her face, you watch as she starts to speak, trying to remain focused on her words and not the way her pretty pink lips form them.

“As much as I’d love to say sub because he would be just absolutely gorgeous all tied up and begging. I think he’s a bit more dom-ish.”

Mulling it over for a moment, you nod. He likes caring for all your friends, you can certainly see that transferring over into the bedroom. You add, “Yeah… But like, a soft one, ya know? He’d be so gentle and caring about it. I bet his aftercare game is amazing.”

Shifting, Yoonji stretches her legs out and echoes your thoughts. “Definitely. You’ve seen the way he cares for all of us, but definitely the younger guys. He’d be so amazing at that. What about Taehyung?”

“Hm, a dom. Maybe a little less gentle than Seokjin, but still a soft-ish dom. Namjoon?”

“Dom leaning switch. Sometimes he just really needs to get out of his head and let go of control. Hoseok?”

“Straight up switch. I think he probably doms more often but he’s all too happy to go with whatever his partner is in the mood for. Jungkook?”

Yoonji’s face lights up. “Oh,” she coos. “The sweetest sub ever.”

You stare at the way her eyes seem to glaze over with her words and something like jealousy swirls with heat in your belly. You can’t tell if the spike of jealousy is about the way she sighed her answer so sweetly, like she’s thought a lot about this. Or if it’s because you have the same thoughts and some part of you feels possessive over Jungkook. “Why’s that?”

She shoots you a coy smile that leaves you feeling slightly uneasy. “He’s just such a sweet boy and always so eager to please.”

You can’t deny that you’ve also thought that, dreamed that were true. You’ve heard rumors of how Jungkook is in bed. Domineering, cocky, rough. But it doesn’t stop you from imagining him beneath you, whimpering and begging. Yoonji nudges you and you blink at her, realizing that you must’ve zoned out for a moment. She purses her lips, barely hiding her knowing smile.

“One more,” she declares.

Frowning, you think through your shared friends, but can’t imagine who she might be referring to. “Who?”

Her answering smirk has your heart stuttering in your chest, equal parts dreading what’s about to come out of her mouth and anticipating. “Me.”

You swallow. She’s really going to make you answer that to her face? While you’re both high? You chew your lip, looking her over slowly. You know exactly how she leans, the benefit and downside to living together for so long. The words stick in your throat though, not quite able to bring yourself to voice your knowledge. To give yourself away like that, to show just how much you’ve paid attention. Yoonji says nothing though, looking at you expectantly as she waits for your answer.

Taking a deep breath, you rationalize that this is just a game. You’re just giving opinions. It doesn’t have to be incriminating to anything deeper. You just won’t give reasons, just an answer which way she leans. “Dom.”

She grins, looking pleased with your answer. “You too.”

“What?” you blink at her, confused by what she means.

“I think you’re a dom too.”

Your breath catches. You hadn’t thought about the fact that if you knew her preferences then she likely knew yours well. You’ve both talked about your sex lives with each other, but you’ve never delved deeply into what happens when you’re in your room with others. Staring at each other, your mind races. How much has she heard? How much does she truly know? Her gaze drops to your lips for a moment.

But before the conversation can go any further, there’s a knock at the door. The tension that built between the two of you suddenly breaks as Yoonji crows happily, jumping from her seat to go retrieve the food you’d ordered. Burying your face in your hands, you take a few deep breaths, trying to get your thoughts under control. You really can’t be sitting here, high and horny and thinking about Yoonji and Jungkook. Especially not while one of those people is sitting here with you.

By the time she’s back with food, you’ve got your tangled thoughts mostly controlled and the previous conversation isn’t brought up again. Yoonji complains about something Namjoon did while they were studying earlier in the day and then you’re both complaining about school and theses and classes and thoughts on doms and subs is forgotten about entirely. And you’re all too happy to just forget it happened at all.

At least for the most part. You can’t help it if in the late hours of night, when exhaustion reigns and sleep eludes you, if you let your thoughts slip to less pure things as you hand slips into your panties. If when you’re alone, you think of you and Yoonji knelt over Jungkook as his big, shiny eyes shine brighter with overwhelmed tears and begs his noonas to let him cum. You don’t let it leave those times though, left in the dark and forgotten in the daylight hours. You ignore the thoughts when you go to lunch with Jungkook, have dinner with all your friends, go grocery shopping with Yoonji, let yourself act as if that conversation never happened.

You assume Yoonji has forgotten it too. Or at least chosen to leave that conversation with that night.

Until you come home from buying snacks one night for the weekly smoking session to find Jungkook there too. Which in and of itself isn’t too strange. While you and Yoonji are the primary partakers of this night, all of your friends rotate in and out when the mood strikes. Most of the others usually go out drinking. Or study. And everyone rotates between the three activities with whatever strikes their mood (or is required by their grades).

But Jungkook had said earlier in the day that he was going out with Tae and Jimin. He’s not even dressed for it, like he was just stopping by for a moment and then going to meet up with the others. Instead dressed comfortably in loose gray sweats and a matching sweatshirt, his blond hair still slightly damp from a shower under the hood he still has pulled up.

You give him a smile as you set the snacks on the coffee table and move to sit on the couch. “I thought you were going out to drink?”

Jungkook shuffles from foot to foot nervously, glancing from you to Yoonji, who’s sat on the other side of the couch. “I uh… changed my mind?”

You frown, unsure of his odd behavior. He’s acting as if he’s never been to your apartment before, despite the fact that besides the two of you, he’s here the most. But Yoonji simply beckons him to sit, which he does so after a moment of hesitation, nervously tugging his hood off his head. Once he sits, you expect Yoonji to pull out a blunt and get the night started, but the silence stretches and she makes no moves to do so. You reach out to nudge her, head tilted questioningly.

She gives you a quick glance before looking at Jungkook. “I have a proposition. For you both.” Brows furrowing, you’re about to question her when she continues. “Your noonas have a little theory they’d like to test.”

Your heart stops. There’s only one possible thing she could be talking about that would involve both a proposition and a theory that you both had. Is she just planning to ask him? But that wouldn’t involve a proposition…

Oh.

She’s planning to ask him to let you both dom him. Stomach knotting uncomfortably, you worry that this could ruin the friendship the three of you share. That it could ruin the entire friendship dynamic of the whole group. You could lose a roommate, friends. But even with the bad scenarios running through your mind, you can’t deny the bolt of heat that sears straight to your core at even the barest hint of possibility of getting the pretty boy before you underneath you instead.

Jungkook swallows, gaze darting from Yoonji to you and back. You wonder what Yoonji said to him to get him to come tonight. “What… What’s the theory?”

She gives a soft smile, but there's a predatory edge to it. You’ve seen it on her when you’ve gone to bars and clubs, wielded against unsuspecting people that she wants to spend the night with. You’ve seen the effects of that look on people and Jungkook is no different, already looking like he’s hooked on her every word, even if there’s still a touch of nerves in the tense line of his shoulders. She gestures for Jungkook to move from the chair to sit between you both on the couch. He hesitates before shuffling the short distance to sit where directed. You can’t help but note that he’s good at following instructions. It makes something hot twist in your belly.

Yoonji shifts, kneeling on the cushion so she can press closer to Jungkook, close enough to whisper in his ear, though her tone is loud enough for you to hear too. “Your noonas have a theory that you are just the sweetest little sub ever.”

Jungkook tenses up at the words, and though it’s hard to tell if it’s from discomfort or just shock at Yoonji’s bold statement, you slide closer to be a reassuring hand to counterpoint Yoonji’s boldness.

“If anything makes you uncomfortable, Jungkook, just tell us. We don’t want to cause you any discomfort, okay?” you murmur soothingly, hand rubbing gentle circles on his back. Yoonji peaks around to give you a grateful smile, although you’re unsure if it’s because you are joining her in her proposition or if it’s because you know enough to ensure that Jungkook’s comfort is the most important thing here.

Thinking for a moment, Jungkook gives a small nod and Yoonji takes that as her sign to continue. “Would you let your noonas find out if they’re right?”

“B-both of you?” he swallows, gaze darting between the two of you.

Leaning closer, you let your lips brush his ear, relishing the shiver you feel run through him. “Your noonas have seen the way you look at them when we dance together on nights out.”

He stiffens beneath you and you pull back just enough to see the flush starting to color his cheeks. In truth, you know he’s not the only one that does. Jimin and Taehyung fairly regularly comment on how you both steal the show. And you and Yoonji aren’t blind, you know the way you both captivate an audience when you’re together, dressed up and putting on a show just for the thrill. But you’ve definitely caught Jungkook staring the most. Eyes hooded and lips parted like you and Yoonji are there solely for his entertainment. The way you’ve seen him have to restrain himself from approaching the both of you. It’s even more thrilling than the eyes of strangers on you.

Yoonji coos. “Do you like watching your noonas together, baby?”

She doesn’t allow him a chance to answer though because as soon as the question has been asked, she’s nudging him back so he’s more reclined, leaving the two of you staring at each other over his chest. A moment passes, where you just stare at each other, as Jungkook looks between you both.

There’s a wry twist to her lips and then she’s reaching out to pull you in for a kiss. The sudden press of her soft lips to yours has your brain short circuiting. All thought and reason leaving you, focus narrowed entirely down to the pressure of her mouth on yours. She tastes like strawberry and the sudden, lightest brush of her tongue across your lip has your brain kick starting again just as she starts to pull away. That simply won’t do. Hand tangling in her hair, you keep her close, keep the kiss going as you deepen it and you relish the slick slide of her tongue against yours.

You’ve imagined kissing her so much, but it’s nothing compared to reality. Yoonji is demanding, just as demanding as you are, and there are moments where the kiss turns a little rougher as one of you tries for the upper hand. It’s addicting, the feel of her, the rush, that you get lost in the kiss. So much so, that you entirely forget about Jungkook beneath you until he lets out a soft whimper. Pulling away from Yoonji, you both glance down at him and you nearly coo at the sight. He looks much like he does on nights that you’ve caught him watching you dance. But up close like this, you can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the way his tongue darts out occasionally to lick at his pink, bitten lips, how blown his eyes are already and he hasn’t even been touched yet.

Disentangling yourself from Yoonji, you run an affectionate hand through Jungkook’s hair. “Do you want this, baby?” When he starts to nod again, you tighten your hand in his hair, halting his movement. “We need your words, Jungkook.”

His mouth opens, but no sound comes out. He clears his throat, eyes darting down in embarrassment before trying again. “Yes, noona. Want this… Want you both…”

Pleased, you let your hand drift down, cupping his cheek and thumbing gently along his cheekbone. “Yeah? Have you thought about this a lot? Have you thought about your noonas often?”

Swallowing, his gaze darts between the two of you nervously. And oh, you had just been teasing. But the nervous flit of his gaze, the way he won’t focus on either of you for longer than a moment. He has thought about the two of you. You wonder what he’s thought about, for how long. Has he touched himself while thinking about one of you? Both of you? Yoonji seems to pick up on the implication of his nonanswer too, because her lips are curling into a teasing smirk.

“Have you, baby? What a naughty boy. Thinking about your noonas like that.” Jungkook squirms, mouth open like he’s about to protest the statement, but Yoonji continues speaking. “Noona has too. Thought about how pretty you’d look and how good you’d be.”

Jungkook falters, blinking big eyes up at Yoonji with wonder. Like he never imagined that either of you would think of him the way he thinks of you. A breath shudders out of him as his eyes squeeze closed. You make the decision to move this from the couch if you’re going to go through with it.

Shifting, you push yourself to your feet, glancing at Yoonji to see that she follows your actions with a questioning furrow to her brows. Jungkook blinks his eyes open at the movement, blinking up at you both. You hold your hand out and after a moment, he takes it. Pulling him to his feet, Yoonji grabs his other hand and takes charge in leading Jungkook down the hall to her bedroom.

The air in Yoonji’s room feels thick with heat. She flips a light on, letting soft, purple light fill the room and leaving it cast in subdued shades. You both release Jungkook’s hands, moving in near perfect synchronicity despite the fact that you’ve never done this before. There’s something unspoken that moves you both together. Standing side by side, you both face Jungkook, gazes slowly trailing over the younger man. He shuffles on his feet under the scrutiny, hands clasping in front of him like he’s a child about to be scolded.

Yoonji’s head tilts, finger coming up to tap her chin in thought. “Something seems wrong here, doesn’t it?”

Humming, you nod in agreeance. “Yes, yes it does. Jungkook,” the boy starts at the call of his name, head jerking up to stare at you, like a deer caught in the headlights.

Yoonji snaps her fingers. “You’re right. Jungkook, baby, strip for your noonas.”

“N-now?” His fingers twitch where they’re clasped before him.

It’s cute how shy he has become. You’ve seen him shamelessly strip his shirt off at parties to do body shots, confidently pick up women at bars, boldly barge into rooms and capture everyone’s attention. You’ve only seen him this shy once, and that was when you all had first met him, before he had come out of his shell and grown close to you all.

When he makes no move to start undressing, you speak up. “Jungkook,” you wait until he’s looking at you. “Do you know the stoplight system?” He thinks for a moment before nodding, face clouded with confusion. “Color?”

Gaze darting from you to Yoonji and back again, his tongue peaks for a moment. “Green.”

Yoonji grins proudly at the answer. “Aw, are you just shy then, baby? Nervous about being naked in front of your noonas for the first time?”

Ducking his head, Jungkook gives you both a quick nod that you just want to coo over, however inappropriate that reaction may be right now be damned. Instead, you shoot for comforting. “How about we start slow then? Just your shirt. You can do that, can’t you, baby? We’ve seen you shirtless plenty of times before.”

Jungkook fidgets for another moment before his fingers grip the edge of his baggy sweater. Eyes squeezing shut, there’s only only a second more of hesitation before the sweater is being pulled up and off. He clings to it, the fabric hanging in his hands in front of his chest, but doing very little to hide anything. He peaks an eye open and sees the way Yoonji quirks an eyebrow at him and the sweater drops from his hands to the floor.

You’ve seen Jungkook shirtless plenty of times. Your entire friend group has. There was a period of a few months back towards the beginning of your friendship after he had gotten comfortable with you all that you would’ve sworn that he was allergic to shirts with how often you saw him shirtless. You know how toned he is, have been subjected to his ridiculous workouts on occasion, how diligently he works out simply for the fun of it. Muscles that shift under golden skin that you’ve seen at parties and on beach trips, that you’ve allowed yourself to glance out, appreciate and take in, but never to stare for too long and get caught.

Now though, you drink your fill of the sight before you. Jungkook is tall, and when he’s shirtless he exudes a cockiness born from the hungry looks of others; his posture always making him seem taller, take up more space. But now, now his shoulders are hunched, like he’s trying to make himself smaller, seem less big even though his muscles make that nearly impossible.

He glances up at you both through the curtain of blonde bangs and you can see the way the flush from his cheeks starts to spread down his neck and chest. It makes you itch to mark the pretty skin up, stake a claim on the sweet, shy boy before you.

There’s a pleased hum from beside you. “Such a good boy, Jungkookie. You’re so good for your noonas, aren’t you?”

He nods quickly, eyes positively shining at the praise. Well, you both certainly pegged that one right. Oh, now there’s an idea. That might have to wait though. You don’t want to completely overwhelm him right at the start.

“Now the pants, baby,” you grin, watching the way he swallows at the command.

Hands trembling slightly as he reaches for the waistband of his sweats, his nerves seem to grow now that he’s about to be fully exposed before you both. He takes a deep breath and then shoves his sweats and underwear down his legs. Your breath catches in your throat and you know Yoonji must be having a similar reaction given the sharp inhale you hear from her.

Jungkook is absolutely stunning naked. You’ve known that his thighs were thick and just as toned as the rest of him, catching glimpses of the thick, corded muscles whenever he ditched sweats and his baggier clothing for jeans that looked like they’d been painted onto him. His hands immediately come together again in an attempt to cover his cock, already hard and leaking. But his hands do little to cover his long, thick cock, but it’s endearingly adorable that he tries.

“So pretty,” you murmur, eyes tracing over every inch of skin. You don’t know what you want to do first to him, so many ideas flash through your mind as you stare at him.

“So good, too. Can you lay down on the bed for us now, baby?”

Shyness seemingly forgotten for a moment, Jungkook nearly launches himself onto the bed, landing with a little bounce before he’s shuffling around so he’s stretched out in the middle of Yoonji’s bed. His eagerness is a good sign, showing that even if he’s nervous, that he very much wants to be here. The dark bedspread makes his skin seem to glow more and he looks absolutely gorgeous spread out for you.

Yoonji moves closer to the bed and you move to follow suit and stand beside her at the foot, both of you just taking a moment to look at Jungkook. His cock twitches where it rests against his belly and heat pools in your belly at the knowledge that it’s yours to touch. At least for tonight.

She turns to you then, hands landing on your hips to pull you closer. Chewing her lip for a moment, there’s an emotion that briefly flits across her face but before you can pin down what exactly it is she’s leaning in to press her lips to yours once again. Not letting yourself dwell on her expression, at least not now when there’s a very eager boy spread out for you both and Yoonji’s tongue slipping into your mouth. You can overthink later. Right now, you should just let yourself fall into the feel of her.

Her fingers dig into your hips and you let her get away with it only because you take the opportunity to slip your hands beneath her shirt, gripping her waist just as tightly for a moment before you’re tugging her shirt up and off. Kiss momentarily broken, you take the brief pause to look her over. Her bra is black and lacy, pushing her breasts up in a way that makes you want to get your mouth on them . You also know for a fact that it’s her ‘getting laid’ bra. Meaning she must have been pretty confident that the two of you would agree to this. You’re a little mad that she didn’t give you any sort of heads up to let you wear something better than just a comfy, colorful bra you use for daily wear. At least it’s cute.

Leaning in, you nip harshly at her bottom lip in retaliation and you know by her giggle that she knows exactly what it was for. What a cruel tease, you’re definitely going to get her back in the future. You don’t know how just yet, but you will. You sooth the bite with your tongue, but you don’t get a chance for another proper kiss because Yoonji takes the opportunity to tug your shirt off as well. She pulls away after dropping your shirt to the floor, hungrily eyeing you up as her tongue wets her lips. You feel a heady rush at being able to pull such a look from the typically collected Yoonji.

A moan pulls your attention back to the bed, where Jungkook has taken it upon himself to start lazily stroking himself, muscles shifting as his hips flex up into his grip. Exchanging glances, you and Yoonji quickly rid yourselves of your bottoms before climbing onto the bed on either side of Jungkook. This behavior simply won’t do.

Sitting on your knees beside his thigh, you're quick to let your hand smack against the skin there. The sound echoes in the quiet room and Jungkook jerks, though you don’t know if it’s more from the sudden sound or the heat that blooms across his thigh even if the smack you gave him was fairly mild in terms of punishment. But it has the desired effect, his hand halting on his cock, though he doesn’t remove his hand from himself. His expression morphs into a mix of betrayal and confusion.

“Oh, sweet boy,” Yoonji coos, hand wrapping around his wrist. “Have you ever done this before?”

Swallowing, he looks nervous again, gaze darting around the room, but never landing on either of you before he minutely shakes his head. Yoonji gently pulls his hand from his cock, letting it slap wetly against his belly.

“Aw, you poor thing. Have you always had to be the one in charge, huh? Do those girls see your big, pretty muscles and tattoos and just assume that you’re going to be domineering too? No one’s ever taken care of you like you deserve?” Yoonji murmurs, eyes burning as she speaks.

Jungkook’s breath hitches as he blinks up at Yoonji. He shakes his head slightly and you can see how deeply he wants this. Wants to try, to let go and have someone else take control for once. Letting your fingers trail up his thigh, you trace a single fingertip up his cock with a featherlight touch, drawing a delightful gasp from him. He’s so sensitive to touch, it’s going to make this so much more fun.

“Lesson number one, baby. No touching without permission. That includes your pretty little cock. Bad boys get punished.”

“And punishment can get much worse than a little slap on the thigh, sweetheart.”

His eyes widen. “I-I’m sorry! I d-didn’t know!”

Shushing him, you rub soothingly at the red mark you left on his thigh. It’s light and fairly small, a testament to how tame the smack was, but it makes you want to leave more, make them darker. Marks that remain for days, that remind Jungkook of your hands on him. “It’s okay, baby. You’re still learning. You won’t be punished.” You smirk teasingly. “This time at least.”

Licking his lips, he looks between you both. You can tell he’s thinking about something, but you can’t tell if the thought of punishment might actually be enticing to him or if he’s trying to figure out the rules without being told. Always the overachiever.

Yoonji releases his hand, letting it fall to rest against the bed once more. “We’ll go easy on you, baby, don’t worry. You’ll be a good boy for us, won’t you?” Jungkook nods quickly, hands clenching at the bedspread. “What do you want, baby?”

“Want…” he licks his lips, seems to think slowly over his wants in this moment. “Wanna see you kiss again.”

You giggle. “Aw, sweet thing,” you glance over at Yoonji, “doesn’t even want a kiss for himself.”

Yoonji tsks, wide grin matching yours. “Someone must really enjoy watching.”

Planting a hand high on Jungkook’s thigh, Yoonji mirrors your actions as you both lean closer to meet over Jungkook once more. This kiss is slow, you take your time and enjoy the feel of her soft mouth against yours. You could easily get lost in the kiss again, it would be so easy. Jungkook’s thigh twitches beneath your hand and you give him a small squeeze, acknowledge that you haven’t forgotten about him and it draws a soft moan from him.

The sound seems to spark something in Yoonji, as she surges closer, deepening the kiss. Her free hand comes up to rest on the side of your neck, thumb brushing along your jaw. Not wanting to be outdone, you reach out and let your fingers trace her collarbone before following her sternum down until you can palm at one of her covered breasts. That draws a soft gasp from her that you greedily swallow down.

Her hand tightens on your neck, pulling like it’s possible to pull you closer and her other hand abandons Jungkook’s thigh to grope at your breast. You both get greedy for the feel of each other. Your hand quickly leaves Jungkook’s thigh as well, slipping behind Yoonji to undo her bra. It falls slack on her shoulders, hindered from coming off by her hands on you. Bumping her hands off for a moment, you tug the offending article free from her and toss it off the bed. Yoonji wastes no time in getting her hands back on you once you’ve removed the bra and you’re now free to palm her tits in your hands.

Jungkook whimpers below you both, his hand bumps your thigh before it’s being jerked away. “N-noona…”

Parting with a gasp, you both look down at Jungkook, his hands fisted at his sides, knuckles nearly white. Your hands fall from each other as you give the prone man your attention. You’re impressed with his restraint, you hadn’t expected him to be so well behaved the very first time. But that’s actually pretty typical of Jungkook, excelling at anything he tries.

His pupils are blown with lust and he swallows his nerves as he speaks. “C-can… Can I touch too?”

“You wanna touch your noonas while they kiss, baby?” Yoonji asks. He nods, eyes wide and Yoonji’s answering smirk is bordering on mean. “Why?”

“W-what?”

“Why do you want to touch your noonas while they kiss, baby? I thought you just wanted us to kiss and touch each other?”

He looks to you, seemingly lost by the question. But you simply raise an eyebrow and wait for an answer. He squirms a little, cock twitching. “Um… I… I…”

“Have you thought about touching us before?” you murmur, reaching out to cup Yoonji’s breast, thumbing at the nipple and drawing a sigh from her. “Have you thought about noona’s pretty tits and how they’d feel in your hands?”

Whining, Jungkook nods his assent eagerly, eyes fixed firmly on where your hand plays with Yoonji. Yoonji presses a quick kiss to your lips, casting a teasing look to Jungkook before she’s reaching up to unclasp your bra and tug it off of you to toss it behind her. Yoonji raises herself up onto her knees, pulling you with, and she leans you both together until your breasts press together. They’re just as soft against you as they were in your hands. If you weren’t focused on teasing Jungkook, you’d pin her down and get your mouth on them.

She glances to the side to look at Jungkook. “How do you wanna touch, baby?”

His eyes drag down your bodies slowly, gaze darting so quickly like there’s so much he wants to touch and he doesn’t know where to even begin. “Noona…” he whines.

You chuckle. “Aw, baby. Do you need your noonas to help you?”

“Please.”

“Put your hands on our hips.”

He’s eager and quick to comply, hands coming up to rest hot and heavy against the curve of your hip. His fingers flex against you, like he wants to move his hand to touch more but they remain in place. Yoonji leans in to kiss you again and you think you could kiss her forever. After a moment, you break the kiss, trailing your lips along her jaw and down her neck. Laving your tongue over her pulse point, you relish the shiver that runs through her. You’re overcome with the urge to mark her and so you let your teeth sink into her skin before soothing it with your tongue and sucking kisses. Yoonji groans in the back of her throat and you move down her neck to suck another dark mark and draw more noises from her.

You know logically that she’s been as affected by all this as you, but hearing the proof is intoxicating. It goes straight to your pussy and the longer you go on, the more you feel drip from you to soak your panties.

“What do you want next, baby?” Yoonji pants, hand reaching to cover the hand on your hip. His gaze drops to where your breasts are pressed together, but he doesn’t say anything. “Do you wanna touch noonas’ tits? Greedy boy,” she chuckles breathlessly, ending in a gasp when you nip at her collarbone.

His hands twitch against you like he is fighting the urge to just do what he wants, to do what he’s always done with women. But he remains diligent and keeps his hands where he was told too. Pressing one last kiss to Yoonji’s neck, you pull away, staring at the darkening marks while a possessive heat curls in your belly. You shift then, nudging Jungkook’s thighs slightly apart and then you’re throwing a leg over to straddle his thigh, dropping down to press your clothed pussy against the corded muscle. The damp material drags deliciously against your pussy and any other time, you would ride his thigh until he was begging you to touch him or let him touch.

Gasping, Jungkook’s hand tightens enough to bruise and you grin down at him. “Can you feel how wet noona is for you, baby?”

He nods a little dazedly, looking down where you’re pressed against his thigh like he can’t believe what he’s feeling or seeing. Giving a little grind, you feel a rush of desire run through you at the breath that rushes from Jungkook’s lips.

“Baby,” you purr, “didn’t you want to touch noona’s tits?”

“Please…”

“Go ahead, baby.”

His hand quickly abandons your hip once he’s given permission; big, warm palm cupping one of your breasts like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever touched. You have to fight down the urge to giggle at the unexpected tenderness. Yoonji moves beside you, straddling Jungkook’s other thigh and she takes the opportunity to move Jungkook’s other hand for him, placing it over one of her breasts.

Gaze darting from one hand to the other, his hands remain frozen for a long moment before he’s tentatively squeezing. Then he quickly grows more confident, seemingly more familiar with at least this part as his fingers tease at your nipple. Leaning slightly to the side, you press a kiss to Yoonji’s shoulder until you have her attention and then you’re pressing your lips to hers once more. Letting your hand slip into her hair, you tilt her head, deepening the kiss. Her hand lands on your waist, fingers tracing a burning path down until they can grope at your ass.

Your hips jerk, clit dragging across Jungkook’s thigh and a moment later, you feel his muscles shift as he flexes. Breaking the kiss with a gasp, you glance down at him with a smirk. Jungkook looks perfectly debauched beneath you both. The flush dusting his cheeks stretches down his chest, his bright eyes burn with want as his hands work on both you and Yoonji. His cock rests heavy against his belly, tip dark with neglect, but he seems wholly oblivious to it even as your attention zeroes in on it.

“What a good boy you’re being. Giving noona something to grind against?”

His dick twitches at that and you let a finger brush gently down the length. A loud gasp leaves his lips, hips straining upward but he can’t get very far with the combined weight of you and Yoonji pinning his legs down. You give a deliberate grind down, Jungkook’s eyes quickly zeroing in on where your clothed pussy meets his bare thigh. Hands falling still on your breast, he licks his lips before his hand is slowly sliding down to timidly tug at the waistband of your panties.

“Can… Can these come off?”

Yoonji hums. “Wanna see noona’s bare pussy, baby?”

Nodding quickly, he looks up at you both with wide eyes. “Yes, please. Wanna see.”

The hand on your ass slides around to rest just on the waistband of your panties. “You wanna see just how wet our pretty baby boy has made us?”

Breath shuddering, he nods again, eyes trained on Yoonji’s hand as it finally slips into your panties. You groan as her fingers slip between your folds, fingertips teasing across your clit before dipping lower to gather your wetness. Before she can do much more than leave a few teasing touches, she’s pulling her hand from your panties and holding her hand up for you all to see. Jungkook’s gaze bores into the glistening digits, licking his lips slowly.

“Open,” she commands and his mouth falls obediently open, hope shining in his eyes when her fingers inch closer to his lips. “Do you want to taste noona?”

“Yes,” he breaths out, tongue extending like it’ll get Yoonji’s fingers to his mouth faster.

She stops just before she reaches his tongue and when he strains closer in an attempt to touch, she pulls her fingers away, keeping them teasingly just out of his reach. “Answer noona’s question first, baby. Good boy’s always answer when asked a question. And you wouldn’t want to be bad, now would you?”

Blonde hair flies as he quickly shakes his head no. “No! I’m good! I promise! Please, I wanna taste noona!”

Yoonji’s smile softens. “What a good boy.”

With that, her fingers press against his tongue. Moaning, Jungkook’s lips close around the digits as he sucks enthusiastically. You wonder if he’s as enthusiastic when he’s eating someone out and your pussy clenches at the thought. A few moments later, she pulls her fingers free and Jungkook’s lips purse in a pout, drawing a laugh from both of you. You shift, finally tugging your panties down to discard over the edge of the bed. Jungkook’s eyes are drawn back to your pussy, now bared for him to see.

His hand twitches where it rests against your hip, but it doesn’t move and there’s a rush of heat that accompanies the fact that he’s doing so well already. Turning to Yoonji, you begin to tug at her panties, earning a laugh from her as she moves to help you get them off of her.

As much as you want to take in Jungkook’s reaction to you both being naked before him, you can’t stop the greedy part of you that reaches out to slip your hand between her legs to touch. A soft sigh leaves her lips and you can’t help but lean in to smother the sound with a kiss. Your fingers find her just as wet as you are yourself and you relish in the moment to tease your fingers along her pussy.

Whining, Jungkook squirms beneath you both, thigh inadvertently bumping your hand harder against Yoonji and further smearing her wetness across your palm. You pull your hand away and Jungkook follows the movement with laser focus.

“Want to taste your other noona, baby?” you tease.

“Yes, please,” he murmurs.

Biting your lip on a smile, you move your hand slowly closer to his open mouth, watching the way his eyes light up with excitement. But before you reach his lips, you stop, drawing a pretty pout from the boy. Then you wink and you quickly bring your fingers to your own mouth instead. Twin gasps greet the action as you slip two fingers into your mouth and moan at the taste of Yoonji on your tongue. Your eyes slip closed as you suck your fingers clean and when you pull your fingers free and glance down to Jungkook, you’re met with a look that is equal parts jealous and hungry.

Hand dropping to the bed beside him, his eyes widen as you lean over him. “Still want a taste, baby?”

His gaze darts to your lips as he nods. You seal your mouth over his, taking advantage of the surprised part to his lips to slip your tongue in. He whimpers, hands coming up to rest on your hips as he chases the taste of Yoonji on your lips.

Kissing Jungkook is nothing like kissing Yoonji. He’s like putty beneath you, following your lead where Yoonji fought you for control, kept you on your toes. Not necessarily aggressive, but Yoonji kisses you with a consuming hunger, burning you from the inside out. Jungkook is like a breath of fresh air, he’s soft and needy, making these quiet little huffs with each brush of your tongue. You wonder if he realizes that he’s moved his hands, that he’s touching you when he’s not supposed to be, but you decide to let it slide just this once. You’re much more interested in drawing out more of those sweet, little sounds from him.

A moment later though, his hands are being pulled away and Yoonji is tutting him as she leans against you to pin his hands to the bed. “Naughty boy, what did we say about touching?”

With a whine, he pulls away from your mouth. “‘M sorry... “

You snicker. “Is noona so good at kissing that you forgot the rules, sweet thing?”

Jungkook lets out a low whine again. “Noona.”

Yoonji shifts against you, hands adjusting her grip on Jungkook’s wrists and you’re momentarily distracted by the press of her breasts against your back. Pressing again, she forces you to drop fully against Jungkook as she hooks her chin over your shoulder.

“I’ll just have to hold you while noona kisses you, hm?”

He squirms beneath you and you see him strain feebly against Yoonji’s hands. You all know that he could easily break her hold; that the strain he shows is feigned and exaggerated. But his acquiescence to her grip, to you both taking control, is the most telling thing to his desires. He wants this, just as much as you both. Even if he’s new and inexperienced in this aspect, he wants.

His lips part with small huffs and you can’t help yourself when you dip back down to kiss him. He squirms again before melting entirely into the kiss, letting Yoonji hold him still while you lick into his mouth. A heady rush fills you at his pliancy, you always imagined him submitting, but it was nothing like this. Jungkook behaves like he’s been subbing for you both for ages, like he knows the routine, that the momentary lapses in following the rules is nothing more than being a little bratty to provoke a reaction.

The kiss stretches, you don’t know for how long, getting lost in the feeling of Jungkook beneath you and the softness of Yoonji’s breasts pressing into your back. Jungkook’s hips twitch, his cock brushing wetly against your side and you finally decide to have some mercy on him. Lifting slightly, Yoonji gets the hint and sits up fully, allowing you to do the same. You smile at the way Jungkook is laid out, eyes lidded, lips kiss swollen and flush sitting high on his cheeks. He looks fucked out already and barely anything has happened yet.

Taking Yoonji’s hand in yours, you lift it to your lips to press a soft kiss to the palm. “I think it’s time to reward our baby, hm? He’s been so good for his first time.”

Her fingers brush your cheek as she smiles. “He does.” She turns her attention back to Jungkook. “How do you want your noonas, baby?”

Swallowing, his gaze flicks back and forth between the two of you. He takes a long time to answer, seemingly nervous. “I… I don’t know… I’m s-sorry…”

“Aw sweetheart, there’s no need to be sorry. You’re just overwhelmed, huh?” He nods, lips pursed in a pout, and you continue. “Do you want your noonas to pick something for your reward for you?”

“Yes, please… There’s too many things… I can’t pick…”

You pat his side affectionately. “It’s okay, baby. Noonas will take good care of you.”

His eyes shine at your praise as he nods eagerly. You and Yoonji exchange looks and seem to be thinking the same thing as you move off Jungkook’s thigh to move further up the bed and Yoonji shifts to fully straddle his hips.

Yoonji grins as she sees the way Jungkook follows your movement. “Ever had someone sit on your face, baby?”

Eyes widening, his gaze darts to Yoonji before turning back to you and you raise an eyebrow when he doesn’t answer. “N-no…”

“Pinch my thigh if you need to stop for any reason, okay, baby?” You wait for him to murmur a quiet ‘okay’ before moving to throw your leg over his head.

You feel his breath hot against your wet folds and when you glance up at Yoonji, you see her focus is trained where you sit just above Jungkook’s mouth. With a lick of your lips, you lower yourself until your pussy presses to Jungkook’s mouth, which instantly falls open, tongue darting out to lap at your slit. Groaning, you grind against his tongue, giving yourself a few seconds to enjoy the pleasure sizzling in your belly.

Then you’re reaching up for Yoonji, grabbing her hips to tug her until she’s hovering over Jungkook’s cock. One hand slides from her hips and you let your fingers trace lightly along her slit, knuckles brushing his cock as you do.

You hold Yoonji’s gaze as you begin speaking, fingers dipping between her folds to tease at her clit. “Gotta get noona ready for you, baby. Get her nice and stretched for your big, pretty cock.”

Jungkook whines against you and Yoonji lets out a low moan as you slip a finger into her. Yoonji is warm and wet and tight around your finger and your breath stutters as she clenches around the digit. Letting your finger curl, you rub against her walls, searching for that spongy bundle of nerves.

It takes a few seconds, your attention being pulled by Jungkook’s tongue as he enthusiastically eats you out. But you find it quick enough, signaled by the sharp gasp that leaves her lips when you finally brush against it. Grinning victoriously, you tease at the bundle until her thighs begin to quiver, pleased to have wrung such a reaction from her.

Her hand darts out suddenly, gripping your wrist tightly. Her gaze is dark when it meets yours and she arches an eyebrow at you. “I think you’re enjoying yourself more than getting me ready for our baby,” she teases.

Your body heats. She’s not wrong, you maybe did forget what you were doing a little bit. Grinning, you slide your finger out until just the tip remains before thrusting back in with two. “Guilty.”

She opens her mouth to speak again but you let your thumb brush her clit and it effectively silences her retort. She glares for only a moment before letting her head fall back with a groan and letting herself enjoy the slow pumps of your fingers.

Slipping a third finger in, Yoonji’s hips start to move, little grinds that push your hand against Jungkook’s cock. You lift your hips slightly, giving Jungkook a moment to breath.

“Are you ready for noona to ride you, baby?” you ask as you pull your fingers from Yoonji.

All you get in response is a whimper as you grasp his cock with your wet fingers, other hand settling on Yoonji’s hip and you guide him to her entrance. You give her hip a squeeze and she lets herself drop, pulling your hand away so her hips can settle flush to his. You can feel Jungkook’s breath panting hot against your pussy, his hands squeezing tightly at the sheets.

“How does noona’s pussy feel, baby?” you murmur. He whines and you give his nipple a pinch, making his hips jerk. “When noona asks a question, she expects an answer.”

“‘M sorry… Noona feels good…”

You let your free hand settle on Yoonji’s other hip. “How’s he feel?”

“Fuck… so good. He’s such a good boy.”

Jungkook’s hands suddenly wrap around your thighs. You jerk in surprise, ready to reprimand him, but before you can say anything, he’s pulling you back down onto his mouth. Yoonji laughs breathlessly, hands coming to rest on his belly as she starts to lift her hips.

“How’s his mouth?”

Giving her a groan in response, you grind against his tongue, toes curling as his fingers tighten against your thighs. Both of you fall quiet, save for pants and moans, letting yourselves be consumed with chasing your own pleasure for a moment. Heat simmers in your belly, building with each swipe of Jungkook’s tongue and teasing suck to your clit. Jungkook’s efforts combined with the view of Yoonji riding his cock has your orgasm building until one harsh suck pushes you over the edge.

Head falling back, you moan as your orgasm spreads through your veins, igniting like fire and leaving you shuddering as Jungkook seems to get even more enthusiastic below you. You vaguely hear Yoonji swear under her breath, but you don’t have it in you to look at her as Jungkook draws your orgasm out.

Finally you lift your hips, overstimulation beginning to creep in, and you and Jungkook pant together as your high slowly ebbs away and you come back to yourself. Blinking your eyes open, you see Yoonji’s have slipped closed as she moves and you find your gaze glued to the way her tits bounce with each movement.

Seeing an opportunity, you reach forward, letting your fingers find her clit and her eyes shoot open with a gasp at your touch. You grin, shifting so you’re knelt beside the pair. “Baby,” you coo, “look how pretty noona looks sitting on your dick.”

It takes him a moment, but Jungkook’s head lifts and your pussy clenches at the sheen of your slick covering the lower half of his face. His lips are parted as he makes sweet, little noises, soft moans and whines, and his hazy eyes trail over you both like he doesn’t truly know where to look. You swirl your fingers, drawing a wheezed gasp from Jungkook and you can’t help the teasing grin that forms.

“Aw, baby. Did noona tighten up? Is she close? Are you gonna be good and let her cum on your cock?”

Jungkook’s nodding before you even finish speaking, hips twitching in small little thrusts and you pick up the pace on her clit. Leaning forward, you take one of her nipples in your mouth, teeth teasing the bud before you sooth it with your tongue.

“Fuck… gonna-” She cuts off, moving faster until her hips slam down as she starts to cum.

You keep your fingers going, gradually slowing down as her orgasm shudders through her. Jungkook whines and squirms beneath her, but remains more still that others would. She tugs your hand away finally as she continues to shiver with aftershocks. You bring your fingers to your mouth with a teasing glance and lick them clean as she watches through hooded eyes.

Jungkook whimpers, drawing both of attention to him and Yoonji lifts herself off his cock, drawing an even louder whine from him.

You pat his side soothingly. “Don’t worry, baby. We’re gonna take care of you. Want your noona’s mouth?”

He blinks wet eyes at you both, cock twitching where it lays against his belly and Yoonji laughs. “I think that’s a yes.”

She takes him in her hand and his hips strain up into her grip. He’s so desperate already and you have barely even teased him or drawn this out. He’s definitely going to be fun in the future. Leaning down, you let your tongue swirl around the tip, licking up the taste of Yoonji and Jungkook together. They taste wonderfully divine. His hips strain upwards again and you and Yoonji each use a hand to hold his hips down as you continue your slow, teasing licks. Once you’ve licked all traces of Yoonji from him, you take him into your mouth, humming in content at the way he stretches your lips.

“‘M g-gonna… please… please can I?”

“Aw, you’re asking permission? You’re such a good boy. Of course you can cum, baby. You’ve been so good to your noonas.”

It takes only a couple bobs of your head for his back to bow as the first spurt of salty fluid hits your tongue. He cries out, body strung tight as he cums down your throat. You let your tongue rub at his frenulum as you and Yoonji work to draw out his orgasm as long as possible. When he begins to tremble and whimper, you finally pull away, licking your lips clean as you do.

Jungkook’s eyes are shut tight, shuddering through the last aftershocks and he looks beautifully debauched. Glancing at Yoonji, you see the same fond look on her face that you know to be on yours. Leaning down, you pepper a few kisses to his lips and cheeks before stretching out beside him and cuddling up to his side.

“You did such a good job, baby. You were so good for us,” you murmur, letting your hand rub his belly.

Yoonji mirrors you and after a moment, halts your rubbing by interlacing your fingers with her. The look on her face is hard to read, but she gives you a reassuring squeeze.

“The best baby,” she agrees, turning to Jungkook and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Jungkook gets a goofy grin, seeming to melt between the both of you at the praise. At the rate he’s going, he might have a bigger praise kink than Jimin. You all fall silent, breath evening out and simply enjoy the afterglow. You assume Jungkook at the very least has fallen asleep as your mind begins to swirl with the implications of what just happened.

Leave it to your overthinking to ruin a nice postcoital cuddle. But you can’t help but wonder where this leaves the three of you. Was this just a one time thing? Does it mean anything deeper? You want so badly for it to mean more, but you also know that getting your hopes up leads to more hurt in the end.

Jungkook surprises you by breaking the silence, voice rough like he’s fighting sleep. “What does this mean?”

He sounds so small when he says it, it makes your heart ache a little. You’re not sure how to answer him though, because you also don’t really know what this means. You know what it means for you, but you can’t speak for Yoonji, or even Jungkook.

Yoonji pushes up onto her elbow so she can look at you both and you see that same fond look in her eyes again. It makes something warm and content twist in your belly. “I thought I had made my intentions clear, but I guess not. I like you.” Before the hurt you feel can stretch too far, she looks at you. “Both of you. I had intended to get that done first tonight. But, uh, well things got a little carried away.”

Jungkook snorts. “Only a little?”

She pulls her hand from yours, giving him a quick pinch. “Hey! Don’t go getting mouthy now.”

Grinning in response, he wraps his arms around you both, tugging you somehow closer. “I like you both too… I have for a really long time…” he pauses, seeming to think for a moment before continuing. “And I really liked tonight… What we did… I’d like to explore more of that…”

They both look at you and you can’t help the giddy grin that spreads across your face. You push yourself up just enough to lean across to give Yoonji a kiss and then turn to give Jungkook one too. “Of course I like you both. God, who couldn’t? You both are so wonderful.”

Jungkook giggles happily and then in the blink, he’s managed to get you and Yoonji pushed together as he hovers over you both. He gives you each a kiss to the forehead. “So does this mean you’ll be my girlfriends?” Laughing, you give him a nod and he glows with happiness. “I have the prettiest girlfriends.”

You and Yoonji both reach up, each cupping one of his cheeks. Warm floods you, feeling happy and content with them both.

“And we have the prettiest boyfriend.”

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