#and it’s just like.. you’ve been here for so long and i only have beautiful good memories/feelings related to you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

byeoltoyuki · 2 days

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Criminal Love

↳ Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

❧ Genre : romance , smut, forced proximity, morally grey reader

❧ Words: +25k

❧ Warnings: violence, mention of knives, guns, smut

❧ Summary: Hyunjin was a good agent. At least, he thought he was. The moment he is ordered to work with a very unpredictable, dangerous you (who also happens to be his little crush), things change. At every step you test his patience, push his limits only to see how far he’s ready to go.

❧ A/N : Aaaaaand it's finally out! It took me longer than I expected to finish this piece. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did while writing it! Like and reblogs are appreciated, comments too ♥

❧ Taglist: @lostgirlinthewoodss , @rylea08 , @minimin1993 , @avokralaim , @cheekycountesschoi , @rockyhedgehog , @skzfelixlove , @hyundai432 , @hyunlvrs , @naoristerling

“Did you hear? She got suspended. Again.”

Hyunjin was not eavesdropping. Not really. Not completely. It wasn’t even his fault in the first place if people weren’t being discrete and he just happened to be having his coffee right here. It wasn’t also his fault that the simple mention of suspension and again meant only one thing: you.

And that did get his attention. Without even realizing it, Hyunjin leant a little closer while sipping his coffee, wanting to hear more about their complaints.

“Again?” The second woman sighed and shook her head in disapproval. “It’s the second time this month alone! I really don’t understand how they allow her to work here.”

To that Hyunjin actually had an answer. Or at least half of it. The bosses could disagree with your behavior, your rudeness, your methods all they wanted – you were the only one who didn’t hesitate to dirty your hands, to infiltrate the darkest places and succeed. The results were staggering. No other agents managed to accomplish as much as you did in only two years. They hated you and admired you at the same time. And those women were no different. They could complain about you all they wanted, but they were simply jealous.

Yes, you were an incredible agent. Yes, your methods were questionable and a little bit bloody for Hyunjin’s liking (he shivered at the memory of you throwing a knife at another agent, grazing his ear, because he had offended you). But you were also a dangerous, cold beauty that they envied.

Jisung plopped beside Hyunjin with his own coffee in one hand. He observed his friend for a moment before smirking. “Why the long face? It’s only nine in the morning.”

Hyunjin ignored his comment, his attention was still on the women, straining to hear more about you. Unfortunately for him, they were done complaining. Or maybe they stopped because of the two men’s presence.

He sighed. “They’re talking about Y/N.”

Jisung snickers. “Of course they are.” He took a sip of his coffee, smiling knowingly into the cup. “And you’ve been eavesdropping because?”

Hyunjin shrugged, pretending that it was nothing. As if Jisung wasn’t already aware of why he was so interested. He took a sip of his own coffee, only to wince and realize that while he had been so concentrated on the conversation, his coffee got cold. What a lovely day, it couldn’t get worse.

“Because I thrive on gossips.” Hyunjin tried to make it sound like it was not a big deal. He wasn’t lying, not completely at least. He did enjoy office gossips; sometimes because the gossips were so ridiculous, he couldn’t understand how people could believe their words. Sometimes, because he would catch info he could use later.

“Yeah. It has nothing to do with our sweet and lovely Y/N.” Jisung mocked.

Hyunjin sighed in defeat. There was no use pretending with Jisung, despite his looks and his nonchalant attitude, he was incredibly observant and Hyunjin’s little (fat) crush on you didn’t go unnoticed. “Fine. I couldn’t help myself.”

Jisung’s grin stretched and he leaned closer, ready to either tease him till he would cry or be a good friend and end his misery. “See, not so hard! And since I’m an amazing friend, I will even help you. I know why they’re talking about Y/N.”

Hyunjin cocked a brow, taken off guard. But it made sense. The two of you were friends, Hyunjin just never guessed you would talk about your cases with him.

“Our little Y/N was hunting a criminal for the past week. Can’t remember his name even if I helped her to track him. He took a hostage, threatened the man’s life. What a bad idea, but he couldn’t know that, could he? She shot the victim in the leg to shock the dude. Worked marvelously. She got him.”

Was it anyone else, Hyunjin would have been surprised. But he wasn’t. The only thing that still surprised him was your creative ways at getting things done. Apparently, nothing could stop you. Not even someone’s else life was on the line.

“How did she even explain herself?” Hyunjin wondered out loud.

“That’s a good question.” Jisung admitted and shrugged, “She has her ways, I guess. She doesn’t tell me everything.”

“Sure about that?”

Jisung gave him a lazy smile. “By the way, boss wants to see you. Right now.”

Hyunjin groaned and quickly got back on his feet. “And you couldn’t tell me sooner?”

“Nope.” Jisung laughed, “Was enjoying the moment, you know.”

***

Hyunjin was not excited to see the boss. Not because he didn’t do his work and risked to get scolded, but more like every time he went to his office he could be sure to leave with some bad news. And that, he wished to avoid. He was tired and frustrated with his case. He had been working on the same case for the past few weeks and unfortunately, even with Jisung’s help, he couldn’t track the hacker that had been attacking big companies. The man or the woman was a ghost, leaving little clues to his or hers identity and it was slowly driving him crazy.

Before he could even knock at the door, he heard voices. Especially one voice. Yours. And by the sound of it, he could easily guess that you were not pleased. Not to say pissed. He hesitated, hand frozen mid-air. Should he knock? Should he wait? But then, Namjoon wanted to see him and if you were already inside, he wondered if whatever the news was, you were supposed to hear it too. Curious, really. And unheard of.

Hyunjin took a deep breath and then pushed the door, deciding that with all the yelling, his knock would go unnoticed. Barely one foot in the office and Hyunjin halted, flinching as a vase flew straight to the wall beside him, shattering in pieces.

Well, you were in a mood.

Hyunjin was highly aware of your temper, heard stories about it, witnessed a few times too. It amazed him how you didn’t try to hide it. Some agents were just like you, anger eating them from inside, but they would do their best to hide their feelings just to avoid the troubles.

You didn’t and he had to admit that he found it a little hot. Maybe there was something wrong with him too.

He had been working for Namjoon for a little over five years and it was definitely a first for him to see someone show so much anger before him. Or was it directed at him? Which would be even odder.

He cleared his throat and before he could utter a single word, your eyes found his. He froze, forgetting how to breathe for a second. There was so much fire, so much rage in your eyes, it was unsettling. Hyunjin wasn’t a coward, in fact, because of his pretty face people often underestimated him, when really, he was a great manipulator when needed and could fight for his life if required. But facing your fiery character and the anger in your eyes made his skin crawl and wish for the floor to swallow him whole.

What a lovely creature.

One last angry glare from you and then you huffed, crossed your arms over your chest and took a seat, ignoring his existence.

Namjoon shook his head and sighed. Apparently, Hyunjin wasn’t the only tired one, the man looked like a ghost himself with dark circles under his eyes. “Come in, Hyunjin. Take a seat.” And then he looked at you again, pinning you with his stare, a silent communication going on.

Whatever Namjoon had to say, you were part of it, now he was sure about it. He didn’t know how he felt about it.

Hyunjin sat in the empty chair beside you, having a hard time not to look at you. He didn’t have many opportunities to be in your presence or even talk to you. No, you weren’t a kind of person who appreciated getting involved with others. Quite the opposite. Less you saw them and happier you were. And yet, despite this coldness, you were Jisung’s friend and Hyunjin couldn’t stop but wonder how Jisung managed to convince you that he was worth a shot. He was the opposite of you; lively, always friendly, spending half of his time cracking jokes. And yet, it worked. Unfortunately, Hyunjin never managed to get close to you which left him with no choice but admire you from afar.

“I’ll make it short.” Namjoon started, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of you, looking stern and at the same time, preparing for another storm to blow up his office. Namjoon was indeed very tired and wasn’t paid enough to deal with this shit. “I need both of you to work together on a case. And before you protest,” He pointed at you, his scowl deepening as he noticed you clenching your fists, ready to jump and protest, “It’s not negotiable.”

“You got to be kidding me!” You groaned, throwing your hands in the air. “You know I can’t work with him.” You pointed an accusing finger at Hyunjin as if he had personally offended you. Which he didn’t. Or at least, Hyunjin wasn’t aware.

“I’m not leaving you a choice, Y/N. Not this time.” Namjoon didn’t budge, his mind set. “Moreover, there’s no way you can succeed without his help.”

Hyunjin observed you in silence, his mind still trying to come to terms with the idea of working with you. He didn’t dislike the idea as much as you did, for obvious reasons. It was his chance to find out more about you, to solve a mystery he was so curious about. But it was obvious you didn’t share the sentiment; you were gritting your teeth, ready to snap.

“Is it a challenge?” You tried, hoping to avoid to work with Hyunjin.

Namjoon leaned on his elbows and looked straight into your eyes. “You can scream and kick all you want; I’m not changing my mind.” Then, he averted his gaze on Hyunjin. “I promise, she’ll come around.”

Hyunjin wasn’t so sure and you proved him right by mumbling a ‘like hell I will’. This was going to be an interesting experience.

“What’s the case?” Hyunjin asked, ignoring the thick tension in the room. He fought the urge to glance at you and instead gave his full attention to Namjoon.

“The two of you are going to fly to Hong Kong. I got you an invitation to a gallery opening party. You must attend it as a newly married.” Hyunjin blinked in confusion. When he was called into Namjoon’s office, he did not expect this turn of events.

“What do you know about Park Minjun?” Namjoon asked and eyed the two of you, his eyes lingering a little longer on you.

Hyunjin had a feeling he had heard the name before but couldn’t pinpoint from where. You, on the other hand, knew. You straightened up on your chair, all business. “He’s the CEO of PM Security. Worth billions if I remember correctly.”

Namjoon nodded. “We got a tip. Apparently he’s been selling weapons to dangerous people. Another deal is about to happen. I need you to find out what’s the deal about and find the names.” Namjoon finished, then with one final look at the two of you. “Any questions?”

“Yeah, “ You started and, without even looking at you, Hyunjin felt your murderous aura. “Can I punch you for this brilliant idea?”

Yeah. It’s gonna work out just fine.

***

You were still fuming at the idea of working with Hyunjin as the two of you stepped out of Namjoon’s office. Just because you couldn’t actually punch Namjoon as you desperately wished, you slammed the door behind you to make your point.

“Asshole.” You cursed under your breath, forgetting for a second that you were not alone in the hall and Hyunjin was still observing you. But for safety reason, he put some space between the two of you. He could tell you were craving violence and someone to blame for the outcome. He wasn’t particularly in the mood to get into a fight with his supposed partner for the next case.

Hyunjin watched you with crossed arms over his chest as you took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching your fists in hope to cool down. Impressive temper indeed. He wasn’t a violent person and wasn’t really attracted to violence but as he stared at you, from head to toe, he couldn’t deny that it suited you. You’re in deep shit, Hyunjin.

He thought about the mission, thought about pretending to be a couple and playing his part. Could he really play pretend? He did it a few times, of course. But with you? He wasn’t sure he would come out unscathed.

“We can make it work.” Hyunjin tried to convince you. Or maybe he was trying to convince himself with those words.

It didn’t convince you. You snapped your head towards him and assessed him. You knew who he was, not only because you had memorized every faces and names of people working here, but also because Jisung couldn’t shut up about him and about how amazing he was. He was a handsome man, that you could admit, as for being amazing, you weren’t convinced. The men working for Namjoon tended to be all the same; some with pretty faces and arrogant attitude. Not your cup of tea. And yet, even if it pained you to admit, Hyunjin looked different from them. Just by the way he was watching you, you could tell he wasn’t underestimating you just because you were a woman. No, he was also assessing you and wondering how it could work.

“It can’t be that bad.” He tried again, sounding a little bit more enthusiastic.

You finally moved from your spot and slowly approached him, watching him like a predator that you were. Hyunjin tensed. You grabbed him by his tie and pulled him closer to you. “You better watch out, Hwang or I might kill you in your sleep and make it look like an accident.”

Such a lovely creature, working with you surely would be fun.

***

Jisung was laughing so hard at the news, he fell from his chair. It didn’t stop him from laughing, quite the opposite. He held his stomach, unable to calm down. He had expected Namjoon to give Hyunjin shit for not having any break in his case. But it was so much better. Oh how he wished he could have witnessed the whole mess. Knowing you, Jisung had no problem imagining how delighted you were with the mission.

“Are you done?” Hyunjin groaned, palming his face.

It had been two hours since he found out about the mission. Two hours since your threat. Two hours since he couldn’t shake off the image of you pulling at his tie, threatening him so close to his lips. Yes, he wanted to find out more about you. Yes, he wanted to get close to you. But maybe he got more than he bargained for.

“Oh hell man, I’m having a blast.” Jisung cackled and wiped the tears from the corner of his eyes. “You and Y/N? Working together? Pretending to be married?” Just from saying it again, he laughed and Hyunjin couldn’t stop himself; he kicked his shin. “Ouch!”

“You deserved it.” Hyunjin responded unapologetic.

“Can you blame me? You two are so different. I don’t know how Namjoon came up with this idea.” He shook his head, chuckling to himself. “I know you’re going to try and make it work but Y/N…”

Hyunjin could only hope that your wish to succeed would be stronger than your aversion to working with him.

“She’s going to eat you alive.”

***

Hyunjin didn’t get even have a wink of sleep last night. Not this close to the departure for the mission. One week was what Namjoon gave the two of you to get your shit together and prepare.

Easy to say.

Hyunjin tried to reach out to you in hope to talk and prepare your story in case you had to share it with people, especially about your marriage. You ignored all his attempts. He had tried. He tried to talk to you, to get to you through Jisung, tried to corner you. And failed. You were slowly driving him nuts and even his optimism was slowly fading.

He was waiting for you at the airport, nervous. After ignoring him for a week, you finally texted him last night, giving the time and spot to meet at the airport. A message that frustrated him to no end.

He checked his watch and frowned. You were running late. Maybe the traffic or maybe you were toying with him. Probably the latter. But then, as he raised his head, he saw you. He spotted you among the parting crowd, walking confidently and looking too good to be real. You wore white jeans, a black tank top with a leather jacket. Your hairs were tied up in a messy bun with few strands framing your flawless face.

Hyunjin forgot how to breath as you drew nearer.

“Hello, Hwang.” You smiled wickedly, your smile promising torture.

“You’re late.” Hyunjin wanted to slap himself. He wasn’t planning to pick a fight with you, but somehow his brain refused to cooperate.

You arched a brow, amused. “Am I?” And took another step towards him. “Or were you just too eager to see me?”

Yes, you were definitely toying with him. He refused to play your game and instead he kept his face as neutral as possible. “You know I’m not happy about this mission either.” What a big liar he was.

“Sure about that?” You asked, unfazed with his attempt. “Because a little birdie told me you were delighted to find out we were paired for the mission.”

Hyunjin gawked at you, not believing his ears. “What? Who?”

Hyunjin knew way before you answered, who was behind those words but he needed to hear it.

“Your favorite hacker.”

Little shit. Han Jisung was a dead man. If he survives first.

You laughed at his pained face. Not a mocking laugh but a genuine one that made him blink and stare blankly at you. Hyunjin realized that he had never heard you laugh before and it was a nice melody to his ears. Playful, cheerful, warm.

“Come on, hubby.” You looped your arm through his, “Let’s do this.”

***

Surprisingly enough, the flight to Hong Kong was eventless.

Except for the part where you didn’t shut him out like he thought you would. No, after a whole week of trying to talk to you and plan, it was during the flight that you chose to talk. You took him completely off guard by admitting that he was right and you needed a story in case someone ask. The two of you established that you had been married for three months and had been together for two years.

Hyunjin was bewildered how easy it was to talk to you when you weren’t threatening to kill him in his sleep. The moment you got your mind set on the mission, your feelings and opinions didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was to succeed and if for that you had to deal with him, you would do your best.

A very nice surprise.

Namjoon had thought about every little details that even Hyunjin hadn’t thought about. For instance, not even for a second Hyunjin had imagined that the two of you would have to share a room. It made sense, in a way, but it still shocked him. He was not ready for it.

Hyunjin glanced at you, palms sweaty. He thought you would start a riot and curse Namjoon and his whole family. You did none of that. In fact, you looked completely relaxed. You pushed your suitcase toward the middle of the room and then stopped to observe the place. The room was big, huge windows that led to a small private balcony. A king size bed covered with petals of red roses and a couch that looked rather uncomfortable.

You scoffed at the flowers, finding this little detail ridiculous. And so did Hyunjin. “He didn’t need to go to this extent.” But you didn’t seem surprised too which made him wonder how many times Namjoon had arranged things for you.

Hyunjin followed you with his own suitcase. If there was only one bed and one couch, he would choose the couch, even if it didn’t look comfortable. He didn’t think you would accept to share a bed and he wasn’t sure he could sleep beside you at all. Not that he was scared for his life but sleeping with his crush did make him nervous.

“Dibs on the right side of the bed.” You interrupted his trail of thoughts and threw yourself on your side of bed. You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched Hyunjin with a smirk.

Hyunjin gasped loudly and looked at you as if you had grown a second head. “Wait what?”

You watched him from the bed, looking too smug for his liking. “What? Were you about to offer to sleep on the couch?”

Hyunjin wondered if he was that predictable or if you were just that good at reading people. For a second, he considered lying to avoid embarrassment but one look at you and he knew it was pointless. He shrugged. “Yes.”

“Don’t bother. I don’t care.”

“Sure about that?”

“Unless you’re a hugger, no, I don’t care.”

***

While you were taking a long, deserved shower, Hyunjin went through the few information Namjoon gave you about Park Minjun. Nothing really impressive; his family, about his wife, his kids, about his involvement with many powerful men in the society. Nothing really indicated that he had any involvement with the underground world. But then again, Hyunjin guessed that it wouldn’t be something obvious and they had to dig deeper.

Hyunjin threw his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes for a moment. The party, the CEO, pretend to be a married, happy man, you. It kept replaying in his mind. There were few hours left before the party and he couldn’t stop wondering how it would work out. How should they get close to the man and gather the needed proofs?

Before Hyunjin could delve more on the matter, you came out of the shower with just a towel wrapped around your body, water still dripping from your hair. Hyunjin opened his eyes only to gulp nervously at the sight of you. No make-up, amazing, toned body – he was both in hell and heaven. His pants grew tighter.

Instead of hiding from his intense gaze, you stopped by the bed, staring back. “Need a moment, Hwang?”

Yes. He cleared his throat and tried not to look at your legs. He knew, he shouldn’t be staring so much, but you looked just so flawless, he couldn’t tear his eyes from you.

“Still staring, darling.” You teased

Hyunjin squirmed under your amused stare. “I’m-“ sorry he wanted to say. But you didn’t want to hear his apology. No. Instead, you winked at him and then turned your back, letting him admire the view. You knew you looked good. You dropped your towel on the floor.

Hyunjin shrieked and quickly covered his eyes with his hands. You were toying with him, enjoying your moment judging by your sweet laugh.

“Cute.” He heard you whisper.

For a second, he peaked through his fingers, hoping you put some clothes on. But no. Still perfectly naked and with a glorious ass.

Shit.

“You’re enjoying this.” Hyunjin complained through gritted teeth.

You hummed, not disagreeing. You drew closer to the bed, enjoying how tensed Hyunjin got. How he desperately was trying to hide his eyes with his hands. Sadly for him, his body betrayed him. You smiled sweetly at him. “Just as much as you’re enjoying the view.” And you pointed at his pants, cackling at his pained face.

I need a shower. And a cold one.

***

Unsurprisingly, Hyunjin was ready for the party way before you. Instead of waiting for you in the room, he chose to wait in the main hall of the hotel, taking a moment to compose himself and repeat the made-up story in his head. Everything to distract him from the thought of you, naked with water dripping from your hair. He tried to shake off the image, but his mind refused to cooperate and replayed the moment over and over again like a broken record. This was torture and there was nothing he could do to escape.

“There you are, darling.” Your sweet voice echoed from behind him.

Hyunjin, very slowly, turned to face you. He sucked in his breath, taking in the sight of you. Obviously and objectively speaking, he knew you were a gorgeous woman, but tonight you had outdone yourself. The red silky dress hugged all your curves perfectly, the deep split on the left side exposed your thigh. Everything was flawless; from your dress to your hair, to your makeup – he was bewitched.

Hyunjin stared and stared, his eyes shining brightly. “You look dashing.”

You flipped your hair to make a point. “I know.”

He laughed and shook his head in fondness. Of course, you would say something like that. But then, your lips stretched into a big, genuine smile. “You look good too, hubby.” You stepped closer to him and grabbed his hand. “Let’s do it.”

***

The venue was huge and smelled of money. Impressive paintings, tables spread all around the place with food and drinks. Waiter and waitress walking around with drinks, trying not to disturb the important people. Everything was shining and glittering. A place, Hyunjin didn’t feel like he belonged to. Celebrities, politicians, the whole society had gathered at the same place. He wasn’t used to it, and he felt out of place.

You noticed it too. You nudged him playfully with your hips, grabbed his hand and squeeze it lightly. “Relax. Pretend you have loads of money and you will be just fine.”

Hyunjin glanced at you. It amazed him how natural you were. Nothing surprised you, nothing impressed you. No, you looked at the crowd, unimpressed, assessing them in silence. He bet, slowly a plan was forming in your mind. You grabbed two glasses of champagne from the closest waiter, thanking him with a smile before giving one glass to Hyunjin.

“Look,” you pointed at a person talking vividly with a man. “Park Minjun is already here. The man he’s talking to? He’s in charge of research for the army. Heard the army is developing a new weapon.”

Impressive. Hyunjin eyed the man; he looked to him like any other middle aged man in this room. Rich, wearing an expensive suit, arrogant, trying to make any more alliances.

“How do you know all that?” Hyunjin asked, admiring your knowledge.

You shrugged, your eyes still on the CEO. “I’ve been spying on them for so long. It helps.”

“Do you think Park Minjun is interested in what the army is developing?”

“Who knows.”

Hyunjin was tempted to ask more, to see what else you were hiding from him. He did none of that as he noticed some men staring at you. He recognized the look in their eyes: lust. He couldn’t blame them for lusting after his fake wife, you looked gorgeous and your dress was attracting attention. His body, as if having a mind of its own, moved; he put a hand on your hip, marking his territory. They could stare all they wanted, you were his for at least the upcoming days.

You didn’t shy away from his touch, quite the opposite. You leaned into his touch, feeling completely comfortable with his presence and his touch.

“Well, what’s a lovely surprise.” A man around Hyunjin’s age, or maybe a little older now that he looked at him, interrupted the two of you. He smiled widely, his eyes on you and then slowly his gaze slid to Hyunjin.

Hyunjin had to admit, the man before him was probably the only decent one in the place. Or at least, the vibe around him made Hyunjin believe that. He was terribly handsome and looked just as rich as any other person in this gallery and yet, where others looked arrogant and judgy, he looked genuinely friendly and apparently delighted to see you.

And yet, your whole body tensed at his presence. You leaned even closer to Hyunjin as if he could protect you from the man or help you to disappear. It made Hyunjin only curious. Where was the confident woman? The one ready to snap some necks and kick some asses? Odd.

“Hello Chris.” You finally found your voice and straightened your back, a sly smile on your face.

There she is.

If Chris noticed your uneasiness, he made no comment. Instead, he grabbed your hand and pulled it to his lips, kissing your knuckles, eyes on you. “It has been a while.”

“I’m a busy woman.” You chuckled.

“Don’t I know that.”

Hyunjin knew he wasn’t supposed to feel possessive over you but he couldn’t ignore the little, angry voice inside his head, telling him to yank you from this Chris’s hold. Fake husband or not, he wanted to keep you for himself while he could.

“This is Hyunjin, my husband.” You finished.

And just like that he relaxed. He eyed you discretely, feeling proud, even if it was fake.

Chris arched a brow at the presentation. “Oh? Since when?” He eyed Hyunjin, assessing him. Despite his intense staring, Hyunjin kept his composure and stared back with as much intensity and still wondering who the hell this man was.

“I’m offended I wasn’t invited to the wedding. Or did my invitation got lost?”

You laughed heartily at his pained expression. “Don’t be sad. It was a small wedding.”

Chris put his hand over his heart feigning pain; you only slapped his arm playfully, leaving Hyunjin’s warmth for a moment.

“Fine, fine.” Chris conceded. “Knowing you, I expected a big fancy venue with at least hundred people.”

You only glanced at Hyunjin, your eyes softening at the sight of his face. Hyunjin almost dropped his glass, completely taken off guard with how sincere, how convincing you looked. He could read love on your face when he knew there was none.

“I had everything I needed.” You said softly.

Chris gasped. “Who are you and what did you do to my snarky, little Y/N?”

You took a sip of your champagne and looked at him. “Don’t worry, she’s still here.” You leaned closer to him, your smile turning from gentle to wicked. “Ready to bite your head off for last time.”

Chris raised his hands in defeat and took a step back for good measure. Whoever he was to you, he knew about your character and tendencies. Hyunjin watched your interaction with even more curiosity.

“I apologized at least three times already. You can’t hold a grudge for so long, can you?” Chris complained.

You eyed him with a knowing look on your face, a silent message passing between you and him. “Fine, I forgive you. For good this time.”

“Thank you, love.” He joked, “Call me. I think we have a lot to talk about.”

Chris left the two of you and yet you kept your eyes on his back as he began talking with a group of people.

“Who was that?” Hyunjin finally asked.

“A friend.” You simply said without elaborating.

Hyunjin wanted to know more but from the corner of his eyes he saw the CEO moving. “He’s moving. Let’s go?”

***

The two of you followed Park Minjun and three other men as discretely as you could manage. If the CEO seemed completely oblivious of his surrounding, the two men seemed more anxious; they kept glancing behind them, almost as if they were expecting someone to follow them or maybe even feared that they would get ambushed. Hyunjin supposed, in a way, they were right to be so wary since the two of you were indeed spying on them.

The noise from the main hall of the gallery was getting scarce until Hyunjin heard nothing except for their light steps.

“I think Namjoon was right. Minjun is involved with some questionable people.” You whispered as you watched the men get inside a room, closing the door behind them and locking it for good measure. “I recognize two of men with him. The third must be his bodyguard.”

Hyunjin looked at you with raised brows, surprised once more how it seemed you knew everything and everybody. He wondered again; what kind of missions Namjoon entrusted you with. “Who are they?”

Without looking at him, you neared the door. “They belong to the crows.”

Hyunjin’s whole body froze at the name. He had heard about them. The name had popped in many cases, but they never could find anything to dismantle the gang and arrest the leaders. It was frustrating how they always seemed to be few steps ahead of them.

“What are we doing now?” Hyunjin asked.

You looked at him, a wicked smile plastered on your face. “We eavesdrop of course!” You didn’t hesitate; body pressed against the closed door you strained your ears to hear their conversation.

Hyunjin followed your lead. He stood close to you, his arm brushing yours. A good agent would keep his mind clear and concentrate on the mission. Hyunjin was not a good agent. He couldn’t help but notice how smooth your skin was. Your sweet scent. And the smile that never left your lips. Get a grip, Hyunjin!

“I expected your boss to show up.” Minjun’s rough voice could be heard from behind the door. He sounded displeased and annoyed.

“I’m his right hand and tonight I represent the crows.” The other man didn’t sound fazed with Minjun’s annoyance and yet Hyunjin could detect a hint of threat in his voice. “I’m sure it’s acceptable to you. Or maybe you should find another willing party. After all, we’re not the one in need, are we?” Now he was taunting the man.

You glanced at Hyunjin, exchanging a knowing look. Just few words but enough to prove that they didn’t come here for nothing. Few words to incriminate the man.

Minjun grumbled, displeased with the man’s attitude. “Fine. Where is it?”

Whatever the ‘it’ was, you couldn’t hear the rest of it. Steps echoed in the hall, alerting the two of you that you were no longer safe and had little time to no time at all to hide. Hyunjin’s heart leapt in his throat as he tried to find a solution, a way out. But you. You didn’t panic, you barely looked at him. Instead, you straightened your back and slid your hand under your dress and took a knife out.

“What the hell.” Hyunjin muttered to himself, eyes bulging at the sight of the knife. “We’re not fighting.”

You scoffed and stepped before him, ignoring his remark. Hyunjin wasn’t a fighter, but you were and right now you were itching to fight the intruder.

At the sound of steps growing louder, closer; his body moved on its own accord. He pushed you against the closest wall, trapping you with his body. He cupped the side of your face, his thumb rubbing a spot on your cheek.

Your sweet scent hit him like a truck. All he wanted in the first place was just to pretend, to make it look like the two of you were making out in the hall, to make the intruder feel out of place. But your fucking addicting scent drove him absolutely crazy. His eyes kept darting back and forth between your eyes, another kind of fire glowing in them, and your plump, red lips that were slightly parted in surprise. God, how much he wanted to kiss you. To smear your perfect lipstick.

Pretend. Mission. Fake. He repeated those words in his head, trying to persuade himself that this was more than enough.

It wasn’t.

“Do it, hubby.” You encouraged him after seeing him struggle to keep his control.

And Hyunjin did. His mouth crashed against yours. The kiss was bruising, needy, he had absolutely no control over his body, over his mouth. He wanted to taste every inch of you, to memorize how good you felt against him, how nice your lips felt against his.

His grip on your face tightened as you parted your pretty lips, inviting him in. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, pushing his face even closer to you.

Hyunjin’s free hand slid slowly from your chest, to your stomach, to your left, exposed, thigh. He grabbed your leg with strength and wrap it around him, giving him more access to your body, to feel more of you. To let you feel just how affected he was. How hard he was with just one kiss. You moaned into the kiss as his fingers dug into your skin.

So. Damn. Addicting. Hyunjin forgot all about their problem, all about the steps that grew only louder. He heard nothing. Saw nothing. There was only you and your gentle moans, urging him to ravish you right on the spot.

“Hey!” A loud, croaky voice interrupted them. “What the hell are you doing here? You’re not allowed in there!”

Hyunjin’s deep growl made your grip on him only tighten. You didn’t care about the intruder, but you cared about those stupidly addictive lips.

“What the-“ The man halted not far from you.

Hyunjin, unwillingly, slowly dropped your leg and parted from you. He wiped the corner of his lips and winked playfully at you before facing the man. “Sorry. I wanted a moment with my wife. She’s just so beautiful, I can’t have enough. Can you blame me?”

The man contemplated the idea of telling Hyunjin once more that you weren’t supposed to be there but one look at you and your disheveled self and swollen lips – he hesitated.

He ruffled his hair in frustration. “Just leave.”

***

“What do you think is his business with the crows?” Hyunjin asked as you stepped inside your room.

“No clue. They’re dangerous and powerful. It can’t be good.” You commented.

Barely inside and you were already undressing, with still no consideration for Hyunjin. He froze right on the spot as he watched you unzip your dress and let it pool at your feet, leaving you in nothing but your high heels and panties. He gulped, unable to avert his eyes even if a little voice was screaming at him not to look. He couldn’t. Not when you looked absolutely breath taking with your smooth skin, legs to die for and your long hair falling over your exposed breasts.

Another time, Hyunjin would have managed to keep his head cool and look away. Now? Now he knew how your lips tasted and how your skin felt under his touch. He couldn’t think straight.

“You can’t keep doing that.” Hyunjin managed to complain, his trousers grew tighter.

“Doing what?” You batted your eyelashes, trying to look innocent but your proud smile betrayed your intentions.

“That!” He pointed at your body. “I’m a man and I’m trying to be respectful.”

“I see that. You’re staring. Respectfully.” You laughed and slowly approached him, your smile turning into a smirk, knowing you were playing with fire and testing his patience.

Hyunjin should have known from the beginning that you were a menace. Jisung was right, you would eat him alive and he would say thank you.

“Must be hard watching and not being able to touch.” You cooed at him and poked his chest.

“You’re a terrible human being.” He complained without meaning his words.

“Am I?”

Hyunjin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Bad idea. Your sweet scent hit his nose, making him slowly lose his self-control. He couldn’t think about anything else, only you and your body too close to his. All he needed to do was take the last step towards you, grab your neck and kiss you.

Think about the mission, Hyunjin. You can’t do that. But did he listen to the little voice? Hell no.

“Play with me, hubby.” You whispered, pushing his last limit.

Hyunjin snapped.

Or more like his self-control snapped. He grabbed the back of your neck and claimed your mouth. He devoured your mouth, showing you no mercy. He bit on your lips and pulled your hair, angling your head to deepen the kiss.

“You’re driving me nuts.” He groaned against your lips. “And I do not appreciate that.” He gave your hair a harsher tug, exposing the tender flesh of your neck. A perfect canvas for him. His lips slid from your mouth to your jaw, to your neck, leaving pretty marks on his way, claiming you just the way he wanted.

“I’m glad.” You moaned as your hands found their way to his head, pushing him closer to you, wanting to feel more of him. “It won’t be fun otherwise.”

Hyunjin bit on your collarbone in response. He wanted to make you pay for testing his patience, for making him yield so easily. He wanted to hear you plead for more, to hear your scream his name and ask for more. It was his mission for the night and he refused to stop. He scooped you in his arms, taking you off guard – you yelped in surprise. He carried you to the bed and dropped you on the mattress.

The sight before him was his personal hell. Your pretty lips swollen, your hair spread around you, your nipples hard and begging for attention. A goddess waiting for someone to worship her and he was more than willing. But slowly. Despite his own needs and wish to jump on you, he took his time to memorize your body; every little scar, and you had many of them, every mole.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer.” You teased, resting on your elbows as you watched him, biting your lips.

Hyunjin chuckled at your attempt at provoking him. He unbuttoned his shirt, button by button, watching as your eyes followed his every move, watching as you licked your lips at the sight of his bare skin.

“Might do it later.” He admitted. After all, he wouldn’t mind to immortalize the moment.

Hyunjin threw his shirt somewhere on the floor before his hands found their way to your ankles. Gently, he stroked your ankles that were probably tired after a long night wearing heels. Without a warning, he pulled you to the edge of the bed, closer to him, a wicked smile on his face.

Slowly and without breaking the eye-contact, he dropped to his knees. He grabbed your panties and tugged down, exposing your pretty and already wet pussy. Whenever you had planned to get him on his knees or not, you were ready for him and he had to admit he enjoyed the sight before him.

“Tell me what you want, Y/N.” Hyunjin asked. His soft lips leaving a trail of kisses across your thigh, setting your skin on fire.

“Don’t be a tease.” You ordered and nudged him with your knee but Hyunjin was having none of that.

“Come on. Tell me. Is it my tongue you want?” And to make his point he licked your skin, from your knee to your thigh, getting dangerously close to the place you really wanted him. “Or is it my fingers?” Still teasing, he barely brushed his fingers against your pussy, making you hiss in frustration.

“I’m going to fucking kill you.” You threatened him, refusing to give him the power over you.

Hyunjin only laughed against your skin and bit your thigh playfully, your threat doing nothing except turning him on.

“Come on, Y/N. it’s not that hard.”

Your ego demanded that you kept your mouth shut, but your body was on fire and on edge and growing impatient. You needed him to touch you.

Your body won the war. “Please, Hyunjin. I really, really need you.” You begged as prettily as you could.

And how could he refuse when asked so nicely? Hyunjin delved in, eagerly, letting the taste of you consume him. There was no stopping, not when you sweet taste invaded all his senses and turned him into an addict.

“Fuck.” You cried out and arched your back.

Hyunjin devoured you, licking, sucking, knowing exactly what you needed. It was as if he already knew how your body worked, what made you curl your toes, what brought out your sweet cries.

One particular strong suck had you reach out for his head, tugging at his locks. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to bring him closer to your pussy or put some space – it didn’t stop him. Hyunjin’s gaze met yours, eyes shining with mischief.

He kept his mouth on you and slid two fingers inside you, stretching you. Your every little cries made him suck only harder, pump his fingers faster until you were nothing but a mess, writhing and begging to come.

And you came hard in a silent scream, body trembling.

If you thought, Hyunjin would give you a minute to recover, you were wrong. He flipped you on your stomach, his hands slid from your shoulders, to your back, to your ass. Such a nice and beautiful ass. Hyunjin couldn’t stop himself from giving it a strong slap.

He hurried to unzip his pants, the urge to sink inside you getting unbearable. He nudged your pussy with his cock and you pushed back, whimpering, needing to feel him inside. Hyunjin, despite his own needs, still had some control left. Seeing you so wet, so desperate and lost to your own pleasure because of him pleased him.

“Hwang, I swear to god-“ You started but all words died on your tongue the moment Hyunjin buried himself deep inside you with one strong push. “Fuck!” You cried out.

The pain, the stretch, followed by pure bliss made you grab the sheets, holding for your dear life. You expected Hyunjin to take his sweet time, to make his thrusts slow and controlled.

You were wrong.

Maybe it was because of your pleas, maybe because of how nice and perfect your walls felt around him. Or maybe the little control left had finally snapped. He set a brutal rhythm. His grip on your hips strong, almost painful and that would leave, without a single doubt, marks. And you didn’t care.

“So. Damn. Perfect.” Hyunjin managed to say in between strong, deep thrusts.

Hyunjin leaned over you, slowing his thrusts for a moment, only to fist your hair and yank your head back. His warm breath caressed your neck. “This is payback for all the teasing, Y/N.” His voice sounded rough and ominous.

It should have been a warning and you would have given a damn any other time. But Hyunjin was good. Felt too good. Your mind was blank. You could barely remember your own name.

As Hyunjin forced you to arch against him, his fucking increased, reaching deeper, making you see stars. Mouth opened, tears in the corner of your eyes, there was no stopping. With one particularly strong push, he tipped you over the edge. Your orgasm tore through you, violent, powerful, toe-curling. For a second you couldn’t see, couldn’t hear. And Hyunjin kept going, seeking his own release.

Fingers digging into your skin, Hyunjin came with a loud groan, spilling himself inside you.

With his release came a realization. I’m fucked.

***

Hyunjin woke up with a feeling that something was off. He looked for his phone on the bedside table, only to see that it was three in the morning. He yawned and rolled on the other side, wanting to get closer to you and to your warmth. Only to find your side of the bed empty and cold. He straightened up on the bed, staring blankly at the empty spot. Slowly, he touched it, confirming that his mind hadn’t imagined it being cold. No, you had left the bed and apparently the room a long time ago.

Hyunjin didn’t know how he felt about it. Should he worry? Did you need space after what happened between the two of you? Or worse, did you regret it? Hyunjin refused to imagine the worst scenario, but he struggled. He considered, for a short moment, to get out of bed and start looking for you. What if something bad happened?

He heard the bip from the door and quickly lay down on the bed. He squinted, forcing his eyes to adapt to the darkness.

You walked inside the room on your tiptoes, trying not to make any noise, trying not to wake Hyunjin up. Too late for that, but he did his best pretending to be asleep. Hyunjin hoped you couldn’t see how he was peeking at you or how fast his breathing got.

You paid no attention to him as you got closer to the bed. You untied your hair and ruffled them in frustration. Whatever you were doing at this hour of the night, you didn’t look too happy about it. Slowly you took off your leather jacket and threw it on the chair and then, and it made Hyunjin fight a gasp, you pulled out your gun.

Where the hell were you? What were you doing? He wished he could just ask you these questions, but he wasn’t sure you would take it well. Not yet at least.

Hyunjin tried to calm his heart, to steady his breathing; you got closer to the bed and watched his sleeping form.

“Such a pretty boy.” You hummed, face relaxing at his sight. You gently brushed some strands of hair from his face and Hyunjin fought a shiver.

***

He woke up a second time but much later. He expected to see you sleeping beside him, after all, weren’t you supposed to be tired after going out in the middle of the night? Yet, he found once more your side of the bed empty. He groaned and quickly crawled out of bed. He had questions and for that he needed to find you.

Turns out, finding you wasn’t as hard as he expected. Maybe for a moment, he had forgotten that you were also human and needed to eat. Hyunjin found you at the restaurant, dressed in a pretty white dress that gave you an almost innocent look which unsettled him. But not only that; you were talking vividly, laughing and smiling with Park Minjun.

Hyunjin paused, staring blankly at you and the man. It amazed him how easily you talked with the man, how genuinely interested you looked. If he didn’t know about the mission, he would have believed you were long lost friends. It impressed him how easily you adapted to different situations, different people, letting them see and hear what they needed, what they wanted.

When you spotted Hyunjin, your whole face lit up. Hyunjin gulped, not liking how his heart reacted, not liking how your smile cheered his soul. He couldn’t stop his mind from replaying the images of your kisses, of your touches, of your smooth skin against his, of your lovely voice. He didn’t regret his choice, but he was also aware that he was in deep shit.

Hyunjin took a deep breath and started walking toward your table, confident. A small smile crept across his face as your own widened.

“Oh, babe!” You called for him, pretending so well to be completely smitten with your husband. You welcomed him with a sweet smile and a kiss on his cheek (he swore his heart missed a beat). “Sorry, I was too hungry and you looked so sweet. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

Voice sweet like honey, Hyunjin found himself at the loss of words. There was no way you left him without a word just because he looked sweet, but you were so damn convincing. He shook his head before chuckling. Two could play this game. He took a strand of your hair, curled it around his finger before bringing it to his lips. You sucked in a breath, your eyes locked on him.

“It’s fine.” Hyunjin leaned and pressed his lips against yours. As much as he wanted the moment to last, he couldn’t ignore any longer the man’s presence. “Hello, sir.”

The CEO eyed him from head to toe, nodded as if he liked what he saw. If only he knew. “You must be Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin pulled the chair and sat beside you. “The one and only.” He smiled at the man while his hand slipped to your thigh and rested there comfortably, loving the warmth of your skin under the palm of his hand.

Park Minjun smiled as he brought his cup to his mouth. “You have a fabulous wife. So passionate.”

Hyunjin looked at you, eyes softening. “I know. I’m a lucky man.”

Slowly, he rubbed circles on your thigh and you had to fight back a shiver. You could have stopped him, quite easily, but his touch was too addictive.

Minjun cleared his throat. “Y/N, it was lovely meeting you. But I believe I should leave the two of you alone. Enjoy your stay.”

The moment he was out of sight, you dropped your act. A long and tired sigh escaped your lips and you sank further into your seat. And yet, you still didn’t try to pry his hand off your thigh.

“Learnt anything?” Hyunjin asked, resting his head in the palm of his free hand.

“Nothing important. I thought charming him would serve me. Maybe not now, but later.”

Hyunjin hummed. You were right, it could be useful. “He looked charmed.”

You chuckled and poked his side playfully. “Why? Are you jealous, Hwang?”

Hyunjin could have stopped the little game, could have dropped his own act – he didn’t. He leaned closer, looking at you with a smirk. “Why should I be? I was the one making you scream my name. Not this old man.”

You gasped and feigned outrage. “My, my. Scandalous.”

“I know.”

“Now, that being said,” Your smile turned wicked. “I put a tracker on him.”

***

Jisung took his sweet time to answer the phone. It almost comforted Hyunjin to know that even with you, he acted this way. Except for the fact that you weren’t as patient as him. You groaned and threw your arms in the air, growing annoyed with every attempt at reaching for your friend.

“Hello my lovely, favorite couple ever!” Jisung’s cheerfulness brought a tiny smile to Hyunjin’s face, until he remembered that he wanted and needed to kick his ass. “How’s your honeymoon?”

“A lot of fucking. Something you can’t relate to because you’re forever bitchless.” You didn’t hesitate to humble him.

Hyunjin tried to stifle his laugh, only for you to glance at him with a frown, silently warning him.

Jisung gasped through the phone, offended. “Rude.” And for good measure, added, “Bitch.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Well,” Jisung began, “I know for sure that there is no way you fucked Hyunjin.” Jisung sounded so confident and yet none of you tried to correct him.

Hyunjin glanced at you but you ignored him, staring at your phone instead and looking tired. Finally, the consequences of your late night activities were showing. You needed to rest but something told him that a comment from him would earn him an even deeper frown.

At the silence, Jisung squealed. “Right?”

“I put a tracker on Minjun. I need you to tell me what he’s doing.” You said instead, refusing to satisfy his curiosity.

Hyunjin heard Jisung tapping on his computer, guessing he was already on it.

“I’m not done with you.” He warned the two of you. “He’s coming back home.”

Only then, you finally looked at Hyunjin, nodding. “Then so do we.”

***

Namjoon was in a bad mood. Hyunjin guessed it the moment he stepped inside his office. He kept tugging at his hair and muttering under his nose. Whatever was bothering him, meant probably no good to him too.

Hyunjin had been back for only few days which left him little time to check on his other cases, make a report about Park Minjun, meet with Jisung to know about the man’s whereabouts.

And you. You simply vanished. He should have known it would happen. He should have guessed that whatever happened between the two of you during your mission would end the moment you stepped out of the plane. It still left a bitter taste.

“I read you report.” Namjoon finally said.

“Did Y/N make her own report too?” Hyunjin wondered.

Namjoon quirked a brow at him. “She did.” He sighed. “The crows are bad news. I hoped you would be able to gather more information.”

“Y/N made contact with Park Minjun.. Maybe if we meet him again, she could gather more.”

Speaking of the devil, you barged into the office as if you owned the place. Namjoon barely reacted at your rudeness, obviously too used to your behavior. You dropped on the chair beside Hyunjin, refusing to acknowledge his presence which pissed him off more than he was willing to admit to himself.

“Weapons.” You announced, “Your tip was right. Minjun does sell weapons to dangerous people and now he’s going to sell them to the crows which sucks. They’re already powerful enough.”

Hyunjin almost jumped out of his seat and grabbed you to question you. He held back. Barely. “How did you find out?”

Instead of looking at him, you checked your nails, looking disinterested if not bored. “I don’t think you want to know.”

Hyunjin took a deep breath, counting till ten to calm himself down. If there was one thing, he disliked about you it was how easily you switched from being nice to the bitchy-old-self. It made him wonder if the side you showed him was real.

“What did you do?” Namjoon asked instead, sensing the tension in the room.

You sighed and slid your gaze to him. “Let’s just say that some men are eager to talk in promise of a blowjob.”

Hyunjin winced, unable to stop himself.

Namjoon nodded, unfazed with your explanation. “We need tangible proof. I’m counting on the two of you.”

Great. Just great.

***

Despite Namjoon’s words, Hyunjin doubted you would agree to partner with him. It was one thing when it was expected of you to pretend and be seen, but looking for information was different. You obviously had your ways and Hyunjin would be a nuisance.

Before you could leave him, Hyunjin grabbed your wrist and forced you to stop and look at him. There was so many things he wished to say but one look at you and only one question remained in his brain.

“You didn’t really give him a blowjob in exchange for information, did you?” He asked, his voice rough.

You scoffed at his question and pulled away from his grasp. “Why? Jealous?”

“Y/N.”

You pushed him away from you by poking his chest angrily. “I have my ways to get the job done, Hwang. Just because we fucked, doesn’t mean I owe you shit.”

Of course, you would go back to being the cold, unpredictable and distant self. He wanted to yell at you, to shake you and remind you that you didn’t always have to work alone, that you could rely on him.

“Namjoon needs proof.” You added, “I’m going to give him that.”

“And I’m going to help you.” Hyunjin insisted.

“No fucking way.

You had been staring at your computer’s screen for the past twenty minutes as if the solution to your problems would magically pop up on the screen. Obviously, it didn’t which turned your mood even sourer.

The deal with the crows and Park Minjun bothered you. Despite knowing that the man was selling weapons, you had to find a way to get close and get a real proof. But how? You couldn’t really show at his doorstep and ask him about the details. And getting closer to the crows would be too troublesome. With a long and tired sigh, you threw your head back and closed your eyes to think. Sadly, your brain didn’t want to think about work and possible solutions. No, it chose to think about a very cute, yet annoying man.

“Fuck it.” You groaned and tried to erase his image from your mind. You didn’t want to think about him. You didn’t want to remember the night you spent together. You didn’t want to remember how easily your body craved his touches. And you certainly didn’t want to admit how much you still wanted more.

Your doorbell rang and brought you back to reality. You glanced at the door, tempted to ignore whoever dared to disturb you at your place. Not many knew where you lived, it was better this way for your safety.

It rang a second time followed by a loud knock.

“Open the damn door, Y/N!” Jisung’s loud voice reached your ear.

“Of-fucking-course.” The temptation to ignore him was strong but you also knew that Jisung was a stubborn one; he would alert the whole neighborhood if it meant you would open the damn door.

Unwillingly, you forced yourself out of the couch to open the door. “What the fuck do you want?!”

Jisung lifted his bag and wiggled it playfully before you as if it would change your mind about his presence. “Let’s get drunk.”

Tempting, you had to admit it. You stared at the bag before sliding your gaze to him. Jisung was smiling so widely, knowingly, it annoyed you. He didn’t come here just to get drunk; he wanted information and the best way was through alcohol.

“Fine.” You stepped out of his way. “Come in.”

Jisung didn’t need to be told twice. He hurried inside before you could change your mind. He eyed the room, gasping at the mess. Folders were spread all around your table along with your clothes. Despite being back for few days now, instead of properly unpacking, you left your clothes all around the living room.

“Are you going to tell me?” Jisung asked and glanced at you over his shoulder, “Or should I make you talk?”

You eyed him, incredulous. Jisung tried to sound intimidating as if he could actually make you talk but with his boyish looks it just didn’t work. You drew nearer, a dangerous glint in your eyes. You were the predator in the room and you didn’t mind reminding him. You stopped, barely any space left between your bodies.

“And how are you going to make me talk, Ji?” You flicked his nose playfully.

Jisung gulped, not so confident anymore. You laughed and pulled back to give him space. You pulled out a bottle of bear from his bag and walked to the couch. “What exactly do you want to know?”

You plopped on the couch and relaxed.

“How’s work with Hyunjin?” He asked as he grabbed his own bottle and sat on the chair, watching you.

His question didn’t surprise you but it still annoyed you. “He’s a pain in my ass.”

Jisung wiggled his brows playfully. “I’m sure you’re the perfect partner too.”

You already regretted letting him in. You didn’t want to talk about Hyunjin with him. You didn’t want to talk about him at all in fact. But one look at Jisung and you knew he wouldn’t leave until he got his answers. God help me.

“You know I prefer working alone. It’s easier. I don’t want his life to depend on me.” You explained.

Jisung hummed, knowing how your brain worked. “But sometimes it’s nice to know someone has your back. Hyunjin is loyal and will do anything to help you.”

You knew. Your last interaction showed just how much he was willing to help even if you were a cold bitch to him. You wanted to keep him away from you, from the danger that you loved to surround yourself with. He didn’t need this drama in his life. Hyunjin was a nice guy. Even before working with him, you had heard stories about him and you had witnessed on many occasions how wiling he was to help people. Even those who didn’t deserve his help.

“You know I’ll put him in danger.” You sighed in defeat.

Jisung pointed at you with his bottle. “Pretty sure it’s not your call to make.”

***

You didn’t know how you felt about visiting Hyunjin’s office out of the blue. On one hand you knew the reasonable thing to do would be to apologize for your behavior and have a truce with him. But on the other hand, you weren’t particularly fond of the idea of working with him again. You feared that more time you spent with him and more likely you would put him in danger. And maybe grow fond of him too. It was dangerous for your plans and so out of your character. You didn’t have time for men or the patience. You could deal with one night stands; you had your needs to fulfill after all. But more? No. Not your thing.

But Hyunjin was testing your boundaries, your willpower without even knowing it, therefore it made him dangerous.

You stared at his half-opened door, hesitating. All you had to do was to walk in, offer him a coffee and apologize. And then ask for his help. Not so hard, was it? It was. You took a deep breath, composed your face and walked inside his office confidently.

“Hello, Hwang.” You hummed, sounding as friendly as you could manage.

If you had thought it would go easy, you were terribly wrong. Hyunjin barely acknowledged your presence, the only sign that told you he had perfectly heard you, was the way his body tensed at the sound of your voice and how he stopped taping on his computer. Yeah, easy peasy.

His reaction didn’t deter you. You got to his desk and put the cup of coffee you got him beside his computer, pretending that everything was alright.

And yet still no reaction.

You observed him in silence for a moment, taking your time to memorize every part of his face. You smiled when he crunched his nose, his resolution to ignore you slowly crumbling. The corner of your lips quirked up. You sat on the edge of his desk and gently grabbed his chin, tilting his head. “I didn’t give him a blowjob. But I beat the shit out of him when I got the information.”

Here was the truth of what really happened. Of course, you were ready to do a lot to succeed but you still had your own limits. And you had other effective means to make someone talk. You let go of his chin and tried not to smile at his reaction.

Hyunjin tried to keep his face straight, to hide his emotions but you saw a glimpse of surprise on his face anyway. You noticed how his body relaxed instantly at your confession. Slowly, he outstretched his arm and grabbed your peace offering. You watched him, eyes never leaving him as he brought the cup of coffee to his damn tempting lips and took a sip. If from outside you were smiling at the little win, inside you were slapping yourself for admiring him a little too much.

“Thank you for the coffee.” Hyunjin held the cup with one hand and leaned back against his chair. “Why are you here, Y/N?”

‘Because I was an ass to you and I’m sorry. And I need your help.’ You wanted to say. Instead, you eyed him, captivated with his lips and some creams in the corner of his lips.

“According to Namjoon and also you, we are partners. Can’t I visit my partner?” You tried to play coy, when really, all you had to do was be sincere with him. But it went against your nature and your damn ego.

Hyunjin wasn’t impressed, judging by the way he quirked a brow and didn’t comment.

Yeah. It wasn’t so easy after all. You were too hopeful. Who would have guessed that the sweet and gentle Hyunjin could actually hold a (totally justified) grudge. You underestimated him and that was your mistake.

You sighed in defeat. “Fine. I need your help.”

Hyunjin whistled, impressed with how long it took you to admit the reason behind your visit. “And here I thought you didn’t need a partner.”

You chewed on your lips, so tempted to make a snarky comment but you couldn’t. You did need his help. “You won’t make it easy, will you?”

Hyunjin shrugged as if it was nothing and took another sip, waiting for your explanation, not agreeing right away. You had to admit that you were impressed how easily he managed to keep a straight face, not giving in right away. You knew better than to underestimate an opponent but somehow you did.

“Fine.” You raised your hands in defeat. “Do you remember Chris? There’s a party and I know Minjun will also attend it. The two of them know that I’m married, it would be weird if I show up without my handsome husband.”

You waited for him to show any sign, but Hyunjin only stared at you, making you feel uneasy for the first time. He wouldn’t refuse, would he? Not that you couldn’t make it work without him. You were pretty sure you could convince anyone. But deep inside, you wanted him to be by your side. Even if it was a very dangerous game. But then, he stood up and took a step towards you. He put his hands on the desk, on every side of you, trapping you between the desk and him.

“And how badly do you need my presence, wifey?” He asked, face a little too close to your liking. You could see every little mark, his pretty mole and those damn lips. You could barely remember his question, your attention on his lips only. Someone talked about a mission? A plan? Who cared when you could just tilt your face and claim those lips for yourself.

Seeing how unresponsive you were and with your eyes locked on his lips, Hyunjin couldn’t stop himself from leaning even closer. His lips brushed the shell of your ear; your body reacted on its own, shivering in both excitement and need. “Are you even listening, wifey?”

“I am.” A big fat liar, yes.

He clicked his tongue at your blatant lie and pulled completely away, freeing your body and also your damn brain from his spell. You blinked in confusion and had to fight back the urge to pull him back.

“I’ll help you.”

***

It had been ages since the last time you attended one of Chris’s parties. You avoided those kind of parties if you could. You hated the people that attended it, always the same one: arrogant, rich, who still managed to complain about every little thing when they had everything they needed. You loathed them and hated their conversation. But at least with Chris it was different. Maybe it was because of him and how genuine he was about what he did or maybe he just always managed to ground you.

Tonight was no exception. The venue was huge, classy and smelled of money. Fortunately for you, this time around you didn’t need Chris’s presence to help you to go through the night. You had someone better and definitely more distracting than your friend.

Hyunjin looked insanely good in his red suit and with his hair pushed back. A model. If he ever got tired of his current job, you had no doubt that he could revert to modeling and he would succeed. Apparently, you weren’t the only one who noticed how good he looked tonight; many women had their eyes on him. Too bad, he wasn’t there for them. To mark your claim, you looped your arms with his and gave him a sweet smile. Take that bitches, he’s mine. Very adult of you.

“I know what you’re doing.” Hyunjin whispered and brushed his lips against your forehead.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You feigned innocence and took a sip of your drink, nevertheless a smug smile spread on your lips.

Hyunjin chuckled and shook his head, fond with your attempt at hiding your intentions. “I don’t care about those women. But do you know what bothers me?” His fingers slid slowly from your shoulder to your arm to your hand – you shivered in response and looked at him expectantly. “Those men eye-fucking you.”

Oh dear, where was the sweet Hyunjin? He looked anything but gentle right now. In fact, the murder in his eyes reminded you a lot of you. Maybe, he wasn’t that different from you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, making sure not to spill your drink over him, you pressed your body against him. “Maybe fuck me in the middle of the room and they’ll get the hint.”

Despite the display of affection that clearly attracted more attention on the two of you, Hyunjin played the game perfectly. He put his hands on your hips, his grip strong and delicious. “Is it a challenge?”

This time, you were the one to shake your head, amused with the outcome. Here you thought, you could make him blush and change the subject. But no, Hyunjin still managed to surprise you. “When did you get so bold, Hwang?”

“I believe you’re rubbing on me.”

“Namjoon is going to have a heart attack if you start behaving like me.”

Hyunjin could actually imagine Namjoon’s reaction and shivered. “I’m sure it would please you.”

You didn’t comment but your silence spoke louder. So did your smirk.

Reluctantly, Hyunjin let go of you. “He’s here.” Hyunjin commented as he finally spotted Minjun. And as much as you wanted to enjoy your time with your fake husband, you had a job to do. “He’s with his wife.”

You groaned at the mention of the wife. “I can deal with him but her-“ While investigating about Minjun you found plenty of interesting and disturbing information on his wife. From outside she looked like the typical rich wife. Inside? She was an ugly, manipulative bitch. She had no problem with using her power to bully the weak, to use her influence to get what she wanted. Whoever she wanted. The kind of person you just wished you could shoot and never look at again. Sadly, if you wanted to find out more about the CEO you also needed to face her.

“I can’t promise I won’t snap.” You finished.

“Well, my lovely wife,” Hyunjin took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m more than willing to hold you back.”

Park Minjun spotted the two of you before you could even reach them. His whole face lit up like a Christmas tree, genuinely delighted seeing you again. Maybe not Hyunjin, but you for sure.

“What a lovely surprise!” He took you completely off guard by reaching for you and giving you a hug. You didn’t peg him for a hugger, but apparently he was. “Such a delight! You look lovely, Y/N.” And then he shook Hyunjin’s hand, surprisingly with enthusiasm.

“Thank you M. Park.” You gave him your prettiest smile, trying to look as genuine as possible which with Hyunjin’s presence influencing you, wasn’t that hard. At least, until your gaze found the old hag’s face. The urge to slap her was strong; she was ogling Hyunjin as if he was a piece of meat and not a human being.

“Darling, this is Y/N and Hyunjin.” He introduced you.

Lazily her gaze slid to you, looking at you as if you were nothing but dirt under her feet. Such a lovely piece of shit, you thought.

“He’s way too pretty to be your husband.” She commented with a huff of disdain.

You are going to die. Slowly and painfully.

“He’s way too pretty to be tied to a woman like her.” She completely disregarded you, her attention fully back on Hyunjin.

“Come on darling.” Minjun tried, sensing that her comment brought a tension that wasn’t there a moment ago. “Don’t be rude. Y/N is a lovely and charming woman.”

“For a whore maybe.”

Mission, mission, mission. You repeated the word in your head, trying to calm the fire spreading through your veins. Trying to keep your temper in check and not give in to your urge to slice her open with your knife and see if she bled the same color as you.

Fuck the mission. Discretely, you pushed back the sleeve of your left arm, ready to grab your knife. Before you could get it, Chris appeared right beside you, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his lips. He kissed your knuckles as a greeting, his smile charming but his eyes were burning with fire and a threat. A fire that would usually appease you and remind you your place. Not tonight. You were too gone.

“And she is family to me.” Chris announced as he let go of your hand and turned to face the couple. Despite now the polite smile on his face, the threat was obvious. “Please refrain from insulting her or I’ll take it personally.”

Minjun’s face paled at the threat. It would have amused you to see him squirm if it wasn’t for your wish to fight. He cleared his throat and hurried to take his wife’s hand. “We’re going to grab another drink, let’s talk later.”

The moment they left, Hyunjin let out a long sigh and looked at you with a knowing look. Someone wanted to scold you but you didn’t give two shits.

“Piece of shit.” The two of you said at the same time.

Hyunjin surprised you with his words and reaction, but oddly, it soothed your nerves and the fire burning inside your veins. Yeah, he was right, you were rubbing on him.

Chris palmed his face. He barely avoided a massacre right in the middle of the party; just thinking about what could have happened tired him.

“As much as I hate the woman, you can’t hurt her.” Chris’s hard gaze fell on you and you would have winced at it if not for Hyunjin’s comforting presence.

“She’s a bitch!” You protested.

“And you have dozens of witnesses.” He gestured at the people surrounding you. “Don’t get sloppy.”

Fine. Chris was right, but you still felt the need to get rid the world of another ugly human-being. Hyunjin sensed that; he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him.

“It’s not like she was going to kill her.” Hyunjin told him, confident.

Oh Hyunjin, if only you knew.

You wished he hadn’t said that. Not only because he was wrong, but also because it would alert Chris.

“Sure about that? Y/N was ready to pull out her knife and end her right on the spot.” He looked at your covered arm, knowing a small knife was hiding under it. “She craves violence but I’m sure,” his gaze slid to Hyunjin, “you already knew that.”

Your palms were sweaty. Chris made you squirm under his mocking gaze. He knew this whole couple thing was fake, he felt it from the first time he had seen Hyunjin and Hyunjin’s faith in you only proved it.

“Have fun.” Chris said with one good look at the two of you. “But don’t cause trouble.”

So tempting to tell him to fuck off but you resisted only for the sake of pretense.

“You weren’t really planning to hurt her?” Hyunjin asked.

“She insulted you. This old damn hag-“

“Simp.”

“Take that back, Hwang!”

****

It was only much later that you managed to have a second chance with Minjun, without his wife scowling at you. You didn’t even have much to do to attract his attention; the moment you found yourself alone with your drink, he didn’t hesitate to approach you. Obviously, Hyunjin’s presence never bothered him, but Chris? He clearly didn’t want to attract his attention a second time.

“I’m so sorry for my wife’s behavior.” He apologized, standing close to you.

You smiled sweetly at him, batting your eyelashes at him. “It’s fine. No harm done.” But what you really wanted to say was that his wife would not live another day if she ever made another comment about Hyunjin or even dared to look his way.

He smiled, grateful for your gentleness.

Another man, in black suit, joined the two of you. He nodded his head at Minjun and stood closely to the two of you. You remembered him. The same man that went with Minjun to meet the crows. You listened to the man, looking invested in whatever he was saying while your mind was going through different ways you could get information out of him. Instead, you spotted something else on the bodyguard as he moved: a gun.

“Nice gun.” You commented, taking the two men off guard. Of course, they judged you for your looks and underestimated you. As if a woman who looked like a doll could know anything about guns. You stared at the gun for a moment before averting your eyes. “I don’t recognize the model.”

Minjun whistled, impressed. “You are full of surprises, Y/N.”

That you were. You smiled into your drink, trying not to look too smug. “My uncle is an avid collector.” You glanced once more at the gun. “He taught me how to shoot.”

Minjun made a sign with his hand and the bodyguard took few steps towards you before pulling his gun and handing it to you. You glanced at the man, making sure he didn’t mind you touching it; he nodded his head and smiled.

“Oh. I expected it to be heavier.” You commented as you admired the gun. You moved it around, weighing it.

“It’s a new design. I wanted to make life easier for my men.” Minjun admitted, proudly.

You handed the gun back to the bodyguard, your gaze on the older man. “Guess you’re full of surprises too, M. Park.”

“It’s a hobby of mine.” He confessed.

“That reminds me of my uncle.”

“I bet I’d get along with your uncle.”

He wouldn’t.

***

Of course the crows would want the best guns on the market and if Park Minjun was the one making them, it was no surprise they agreed to work with him. But still, you needed more to be able to stop them. Maybe talking with Hyunjin would clear your mind and help you to find a solution to your problem. But before you could do any of that, Chris grabbed your arm and pulled you to the balcony where nobody could hear you.

Chris did not look amused when he met your eyes. In fact, you were pretty sure he was upset and was trying really bad to keep his own temper in check.

“What’s wrong Chris?”

“The fuck you’re doing, Y/N?” He scowled.

It wouldn’t be very wise of you to play pretend with him; Chris could read people easily, even you which annoyed you half of the time. Tonight was no exception. He could tell you were up to something and probably something bad. He wasn’t wrong.

“Nothing.” You raised your arms in defense. “Yet.”

Chris took a deep breath to calm himself. “What’s your business with Park Minjun?”

Nothing went unnoticed, how sad. Unfortunately, you couldn’t share your mission with him, no matter how close the two of you were. “None. We met not long ago while I was enjoying a nice weekend with Hyunjin.”

Chris scoffed at the mention of your fake husband. “Who clearly knows shit about you.”

In a blink of an eye you stood before him, your knife no longer hidden under your sleeve and pressed against his throat. “And you better keep it that way.”

Chris didn’t even blink, he stared at you, unimpressed. Wouldn’t be the first time you threatened him. Nor the last. “You and your love for knives is terrifying.”

“Don’t see why.” You shrugged and pulled away. It would do you no good to fight him and you weren’t that confident either. Behind his calmness, Chris was a sleeping storm; a storm you would rather avoid.

“Did you know Minjun sells weapons?” You asked instead.

Chris raised his brow at the change of subject. “Yes. He’s been a little paranoid recently. Some people want him dead, I heard. Beomseok offered him a deal: he will protect him but in exchange he will decide to who he sells the weapons.”

What a shitty deal, you thought. From outside, it looked nice; Minjun kept his business and his life, but really, he lost everything. “Basically, the crows are taking control over his business in exchange for his life.”

“Yes, nothing good will come out of this deal.” Chris admitted as he kept his eyes on you. You could tell there was more he wanted to say but chose to hold back.

“What?”

“You’re asking questions but you already know the answers.” He noted, expecting you to spill all your secrets.

Your only reaction came in the form of a lazy, knowing smile.

***

Hyunjin was going to be pissed. Rightfully so. And you would probably need to find another peace offering quite soon. You knew leaving him behind wasn’t the nicest thing to do, especially not since you were the one who requested his presence at the party. But you couldn’t involve him in your plans. Not only he wouldn’t approve of your ideas but you bet he would try to stop you. Therefore, you left the party without looking back.

Just in case, you had left your car in the parking lot with clothes and weapons. You hurried to change, ditching your dress for a more comfortable outfit: black pants, grey t-shirt, a jacket and a cap to hide your identity if needed. You hid your favorite gun under your t-shirt, reveling in the feeling of it against your skin. You hid another knife in your boots, tucking it safely.

Once ready, you slumped in your seat, you waited and watched people coming in and out of the venue. Your plan wasn’t the best one and you weren’t fully sure it would lead you anywhere but you were tired of waiting and trying to find other ways to get proofs.

You didn’t need to wait long for Minjun to leave the party along with his wife and the bodyguard. Perfect. You waited for the car to start, gave them a moment to leave the parking lot and then you followed.

Obviously, you couldn’t invite yourself at his house and search the place, too dangerous. But the bodyguard? He was there the night the deal happened which meant he had valuable information and stalking him would be a piece of cake. And it was exactly what you did.

The bodyguard dropped the Parks at their house, stayed barely five minutes inside before leaving again. You hoped he would drive to his place – it would be easier to slip inside and get to him. But no, you supposed like many men he needed to unwind after a long day of work and the best place for many happened to be a bar.

You followed him inside and observed him from a corner, watching as he talked to some other men. You weren’t a very patient person, half of the time, but when it came to work and your preys, you didn’t mind waiting as long as it helped you to get what you needed.

And you were rewarded. He left through the backdoor to smoke. And it was your chance. The place was perfect; barely any light and nobody outside. And no security cameras. He shouldn’t have used the backdoor.

Satisfied, you moved closer to him without making any noise and pointed your gun at his head. “Let’s play a game.”

He froze at the sound of your voice and the feel of the gun pressed against his head. He was sloppy and it was his mistake. He should have known that working for Park Minjun would bring him trouble; he should have watched his back. Too bad for him, but good for you.

You got around to face him. The moment his eyes fell on you; you knew he recognized you. His arm twitched, wanting probably to reach for his own gun but you shook your gun and pressed it a little harder against his head.

“Now come on, play nice.”

“What the fuck do you want?” He spat angrily, fuming that a woman managed to ambush him so easily. You bet, he was even angrier with himself for underestimating you, for being deceived with your sweet looks.

“Told you, let’s play a game. I ask you questions and if you play nice you stay alive. Easy right?” You would be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the little game. You enjoyed making the strong men squirm.

He scoffed. “You won’t kill me.” And here he was underestimating you again.

You sighed, disappointed. Fine, if he wanted to play the tough guy. With a blink of an eye, you grabbed his arm and kicked his right knee making him fall on his knees. “Ah, men on their knees, always such a nice sight.” You smiled sweetly at him. “Now. I heard that your boss is working with the crows. Where can I find the contract?”

He looked at you. Really looked at you. You were a different person and he had finally realized it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You hovered over him and shook your head. “I really want to play nice but you’re making things unnecessary complicated.”

He spat at your feet in response.

“Rude. Sure you don’t want to answer?” You tried to give him another chance. “No?”

Because he was so concentrated on your gun, he didn’t notice you pulling out your knife, you stuck it right into his left thigh. He screamed and grabbed his thigh, cursing loudly.

“Now, let’s try again. Where can I find the contract?” You asked again, your voice much colder.

“I don’t know!” He wailed.

You applauded his attempt at lying to your face. He should have understood by now that you were ready to get your hands dirty to get your answers, but he still tried to resist.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket which made you pause. You took it out of your pocket to see Hyunjin’s name on the screen. As tempting as it was to ignore his call, you couldn’t, not after leaving him without a word at the party.

You sighed and looked down at the man. “Be a good boy and keep your mouth shut.” And then you answered your phone. “Hi darling!”

“Where the fuck are you, Y/N?” Hyunjin almost growled on the phone.

Yeah, he was pissed. “Somewhere. Busy.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m sorry. I should have texted you but I got carried away.” Which wasn’t far from the truth. The moment the plan formed in your head, you couldn’t really think about anything else. “And I didn’t warn you because I knew you wouldn’t agree.”

The man at your feet opened his mouth, wanting probably to scream and hope to get some help. You were faster; you put the gun into his mouth. He whimpered, eyes wide.

“Y/N.” Hyunjin’s voice sounded darker.

“I’m fine. Stop worrying.”

There was a silence on the other end and then he exhaled loudly. “And is the other person with you fine?”

Busted. You glared angrily at the man. “For at least another ten minutes, yes.”

You imagined Hyunjin ruffling his hair in frustration, torn between the wish to tell you to stop and something else.

“Be careful.” Was what he chose to say.

“Aw darling, you almost sound like you really care for me.” You grinned, delighted with his words.

Hyunjin hung up first. Satisfied, you turned your attention back on the bleeding man. “So? How about you end your misery? I was there when he signed the contract.”

“You’re not going to spare my life.” He managed to say. It wasn’t a question; he had realized by now that you weren’t a nice person.

“No. But if you play along I’ll make it painless.” You admitted.

He considered it for a moment. There was only the two of you, the gun still pointed at him and his thigh was bleeding. He could try to overpower you but the way you looked at him made him pause. There was no trace of the gentle woman he had seen before. No, your smile was cruel and eyes cold. The eyes of a killer.

He was fucked.

“They kept the contract. Boss was furious that they didn’t even get him a copy.”

You crouched down to his level, watching him closely. You needed to know if he wasn’t trying to lie to you. He wasn’t. He looked tired and paler. “They never play nice.”

He nodded, agreeing. “There’s something else. When he signed the contract, they showed him the list of clients he could sell to.”

“Let me guess,” You hummed, “Bunch of assholes he didn’t want to sell to?”

“Yes. They kept it too.”

“I see.” You straightened up and pointed your gun at his head once more. “Thank you for your help.” And shot.

***

You came straight home after dealing with the bodyguard, desperately needing a good shower to get rid of some blood on your hands and get rid of your bloodied t-shirt. But more importantly, you needed to plan now that you knew who had the contract. All your plans for the rest of the night vanished the moment you spotted Hyunjin, sitting on the floor against your door.

What the hell. You were going to kill Han Jisung for not minding his god-damn-business. There was no way Hyunjin found your address without his help. You didn’t want him to know where you lived. You didn’t want him to get even closer to you; it was too risky for both you and him.

You stared at him, forgetting how to breath. You didn’t expect to see him so soon and definitely not after you had killed someone. You didn’t want him to witness you in this state but there was no way you could hide now. So you stared, thinking about what you could do, what you would say. What you could say.

Hyunjin looked tired and worried. His hair a mess, you bet he kept ruffling his hair in frustration, wondering what exactly you were doing. Or maybe he was messing his hair because he knew exactly what you were up to and it scared him. But even like this, he looked insanely good. You’re insane, Y/N.

You exhaled and chuckled. “I’m surprise my neighbor didn’t call the cops.”

Easily, Hyunjin got back on his feet and waited for you to join him. “Oh don’t worry. The old lady did threaten to call them. But I charmed her.”

Of course, he did. Nobody could possibly resist him. And yet, you wondered how he managed this miracle. You knew Mrs. Kim; she was an old, cold lady, who loved her peace and didn’t appreciate strangers. In fact, she didn’t like many people, you included. Not that you minded.

“And how exactly did you charm her?”

“I told her that we fought and I was willing to stay at your door the whole night if it means you will forgive me. Turns out she’s a romantic. She wished me good luck.” Hyunjin admitted, a faint blush on his face.

You would have never guessed. But then again, you avoided the old woman as much as you could.

Hyunjin’s eyes roamed your face and then your body, silently checking for any injuries. You winced because he couldn’t miss the blood on your clothes. He closed the distance between the two of you and cupped your face, worry written all over his face. “Are you hurt?”

You should be annoyed. Annoyed that Jisung told him where you lived. Annoyed that he came here. Annoyed that he cared so much for you when you were half of the time a bitch to him. Annoyed how your heartbeat quickened at his touch. Annoyed how your insides melted. But you didn’t feel annoyance. No, you felt the butterflies in your stomach and the need to wrap yourself around him and let his warmth consume you.

“I’m fine.” You assured him, your throat suddenly dry.

Despite your answer, Hyunjin didn’t look fully convinced. You held your breath as his hands slowly slid from your face to your neck and then to your unzipped jacket. His frown only deepened at the sight of blood. Sensing what he was about to do, you grabbed his hands and forced him to stop, remembering too late that your hands weren’t very clean either. “It’s not my blood.”

“Are you sure?”

It appeased your heart to know that he wasn’t worried about what you did, only about you. A small smile crept across your face. “Yes. I was too fast for him.”

Hyunjin took you off guard; he pressed his forehead against yours, exhaling in relief. “Good.”

The reasonable thing to do would be to tell him to go home. The reasonable thing would be to put some distance between the two of you, but your body refused to move and your words got stuck in your throat. The little voice inside your head screamed at you to escape his warmth – you didn’t even try. No, you closed your eyes and reveled in the moment. It felt too nice. Too good. Girl, you’re fucked.

“Want to come in?”

***

You didn’t want to get used to the feeling of waking up beside a still sleeping Hyunjin. It went against your rules and compromised everything you worked for. And yet, as you watched him sleeping, a few strands of hair hiding his eyes, you barely cared. You hadn’t felt this calm, this peaceful in years. It disturbed you but it was also nice.

You reached out to touch his face, but Hyunjin grabbed your wrist and instead pulled you right in his arms, his grip strong around you. You squealed, surprised. And here you thought he was still sleeping. He tricked you.

“Were you pretending, Hwang?” You tried to sound annoyed to hide your own embarrassment.

Hyunjin held you a little tighter as he planted a kiss to the crown of your head. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

You huffed against his chest and pressed yourself a little more against him, wrapping a leg over him. Yeah, it was a nice change.

Hyunjin chuckled at your unusual behavior. “And here I thought you didn’t mind sharing a bed with me as long as I wasn’t a hugger.” He threw back your own words at you.

And he was damn right. You never liked huggers and yet you couldn’t deny that you were enjoying it with Hyunjin. To save your face, you tried to extract yourself from the safety of his arms. You barely made it before he pulled you back with even more strength and wrapped his limbs around you.

“No, no. Don’t even try. You’re stuck with me.” He warned you.

“Let me go, Hwang.” You tried again. But he didn’t let go. “Hyunjin.”

He hummed against you and brushed his lips against your skin, shutting you up pretty quickly. “Try calling me Hyunjin again and you won’t leave this bed at all.”

You were glad your face was hidden from his eyes, preventing him from seeing the light blush that formed on your face. He was a menace and was getting better at it with every moment he spent with you. You were in trouble.

***

By some kind of miracle, the two of you managed to get ready and leave on time. Hyunjin thought the two of you would get to the office together, but sadly for him you had other plans in mind and you couldn’t let him come with you.

“Wait, you’re not coming with me?” Hyunjin realized when you were finally ready to part from him.

“Yeah. I have few things to do.” You admitted, feeling a little nervous under his knowing gaze. Of course, he knew you were up to something again.

Hyunjin stayed close to you, watching you, thinking about what he should do. The reasonable thing to do, and especially because he was your partner, would to push you to tell him your plan. But Hyunjin knew better. He could try to force you but he wanted you to willingly include him in your plans, to show him that you trusted him.

“Does it involve you ending up with blood on your clothes?” He asked instead.

“No.” You said.

“And you won’t get hurt either right?”

Did your heart miss a beat at his genuine concern for your wellbeing? Absolutely. You cleared your throat and avoided his eyes; you didn’t need him to see the different emotions in your eyes.

“No. I’ll be fine.”

Hyunjin gently grabbed your face and brushed his lips against yours. “No more killing, Y/N.” He insisted.

You opened your mouth to protest but he hurried to add. “For the week.”

You shook your head, chuckling to yourself. “Careful, Hwang. You’re becoming like me.”

***

You arrived at the restaurant shortly after. Despite your intentions, you hesitated at the entrance. You easily spotted the person you were looking for through the window; your cousin looked just the same. Still cheerful, still loud and just like every time you saw him, he was surrounded by his friends. You felt a pang in your heart. You used to love spending time with him, he was the only family that still mattered to you, the only you cared about. You didn’t want to involve him in your plan, but he was the safest choice.

You took a deep breath and pushed the door. You walked in as if you owned the place. A small smile towards the waiter and then, you walked straight to your cousin’s table. He was too busy telling a story, he didn’t notice you until it was too late. The moment his eyes locked with yours, a huge grin spread on your lips.

“Hi, sweet boy.” You plopped on the empty chair beside him. “Hello boys.”

A hush fell over the table; all they did was stare at you.

“Well look at that. Isn’t it your sweet little cousin?” One of his friend beamed in delight and mischief. Beomgyu was still this mischievous kid that followed your cousin. You could scowl at him all you wanted, he never cared which you couldn’t help but appreciate.

“It has been a while kiddo.” You leaned closer to him and nudged his arm playfully. “Still a troublemaker?”

“Look who’s talking.” He teased back. “Hey, Yeonjun, when was the last time you saw your cousin?”

You rolled your eyes in response. It wasn’t even that long. Maybe two or three months ago. At best.

“Six months ago.” Yeonjun answered, tapping his fingers on the table, unamused.

Oops. So maybe you got carried away with your work and forgot to visit him. You didn’t look so smug anymore. “It can’t be that long!” But it probably was. “I’m sorry.” You raised your hands in defense. “I’m a bad cousin but you already knew that.”

You weren’t really bad cousin. You knew that. And so did Yeonjun. When he needed you the most, you were there. When he finally found the courage to put his past behind him, you were delighted to help him to have a fresh start.

Yeonjun sighed and just when you thought he would make it harder than it had to be, he threw a fry right at you, an devilish grin on his face.

You gasped loudly. “Asshole!”

“Love you too, pumpkin.” He blew you a kiss.

“Ugh not this nickname.” You groaned but even if you didn’t like it, your inside warmed at his words. You shouldn’t have stayed away for so long.

“Are we about to start a food fight?” Beomgyu asked, already grabbing a tomato, ready to aim.

“No!” You both answered. Yeonjun probably because he didn’t want to be banned from this restaurant and you because you didn’t want to dirty your clothes.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” Yeonjun leaned a little closer.

“What do you mean?” You feigned innocence. “I miss my cousin.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes at your bad acting. “As if.”

You did miss him, but he was right, you weren’t here because of that. “Fine. I need your help.”

He cocked a brow, a little intrigued. Usually, it was the other way around and it made him curious. “I’m listening.”

“I need you to steal a very important contract from your old daddy.”

He wasn’t supposed to follow you. He should have headed straight to work and forget about the different plans that were probably forming in your head. But could someone blame him for worrying? He knew how reckless you were and no matter how good you were at your work, one day it could fireback. So instead of doing his own job, he followed you as discretely as possible, knowing that if you ever caught him, you would be pissed.

Out of all the places he expected you to go, a restaurant wasn’t one of them. He waited and watched from across the street. You looked comfortable with the group of men, smiling and laughing. A sight he still wasn’t used to see but couldn’t deny worked against him. Your smile warmed him and his heart beat a little faster, imagining it was for him. It dawned on him that your smile meant a lot to him and if he could, he would keep it only for himself. If he could, he would keep you for himself.

Seeing you safe and sound should have been enough for him to leave and go back to his business. But did he? No. He stood rooted to the spot, staring at you.

Hyunjin was not a jealous person. Or insecure. At least, he thought he wasn’t. But apparently, when it came to you, everything changed. The moment he saw one of the men lean into you and wrap his arms around you, Hyunjin couldn’t ignore the green monster inside him. He wanted to talk to the two of you and yank you away from the man. He wanted to ask you the difficult questions. But he did none of that. Because there was one thing he didn’t want: fight with you.

Or maybe he was just a coward.

***

Hyunjin came back to his office feeling suddenly tired but also needing a distraction. He thought working on his other case would distract him from thoughts of you, from the image of another man holding you. It was a useless attempt when you lived rent free in his head.

“Fuck.” He cursed and gripped his pen so tightly he broke it in two.

“Someone is in a mood.” Jisung’s cheerful voice interrupted his trail of thoughts.

Hyunjin blinked in confusion, his eyes on his broken pen. He was a mess and he bet it was written all over his face. He tried to compose himself as Jisung approached, but failed.

“Dude, you look miserable.” Jisung commented and plopped on a chair, making himself comfortable.

For once, Hyunjin didn’t feel like talking to his friend, knowing damn well he would seek information out of him, knowing he would read right through him. “What are you doing here, Ji?”

“I was bored.” Jisung shrugged as if it was nothing which earnt him a scowl from Hyunjin, ready to fight him. Jisung raised his hands in defense. “Fine. Stop looking at me like that. You’re becoming like her.”

But his scowl only deepened at the mention of you.

Jisung sighed in defeat. “Fine. I saw you earlier, you looked pissed as hell. I tried calling for you a few times – you either didn’t hear me or ignored me on purpose.”

“And you don’t like being ignored.” Hyunjin commented.

“That,” Jisung agreed with a nod, “And I was worried too.”

Hyunjin considered not telling him what was bothering him but he quickly figured that if he couldn’t openly tell you that he was jealous, he could at least share it with Jisung. Hyunjin ruffled his hair in frustration and groaned. “I followed her this morning and saw her with a bunch of men.”

Jisung leaned closer, his attention fully on him, a tiny smirk on his face that irked Hyunjin. “Nothing unusual for the moment.”

“She looked really close with one of them. I-“

“Damn man, you’re so whipped.” Jisung couldn’t hold back.

“Am not.” Hyunjin protested in vain. He stared at Jisung for a moment, sensing that he had lied not only to his friend but also to himself. Hyunjin buried his face in his hands to stifle another groan. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Jisung chuckled at his misery. “Well, a piece of advice; you should talk to her and clear the air.”

“You know her better than me.” Hyunjin reminded him. “Do you really think she will take it well?”

Jisung considered his question for a moment. “Probably not.”

***

9pm.

On a normal day, Hyunjin would have been already back at his place, relaxing with some food and a TV show. Tonight, however, he dreaded the moment he would have to go back home and found himself stuck with thoughts he wanted to avoid. But if Hyunjin thought staying at work would save him from you, he was wrong.

The door to his office was pushed, the sound making him realize that he wasn’t alone on the floor as he initially thought. His eyes widened in shock to see you standing by the door. He gulped nervously as he eyed you from head to toe. Hyunjin didn’t think you could look any better but you proved him wrong again. You wore different clothes from this morning; a leather skirt along with a white blouse. Hair tied in a ponytail, red lips. Sexy, confident and delighted with his reaction. He quickly averted his eyes, refusing to let you see how affected he was with just your presence.

Foolish of him to think it would stop you.

Hyunjin heard your light steps getting closer to him. He tried to pretend you weren’t here but as you got closer, so did your sweet, intoxicating scent. He watched from the corner of his eyes as you sat on his desk, your skirt hiking in the process. He shouldn’t be staring at your lovely legs but the temptation was too strong and he was just too weak when it came to you. Hyunjin closed his eyes and took a deep breath to compose himself.

“What’s wrong, Hwang?” You asked and gently grabbed his chin, forcing him to face you.

Such a simple touch and yet it sent shivers down his spine. A simple touch that set his body on fire. “Nothing.” But maybe, Hyunjin was a little stubborn too. “I’m just tired.”

You scoffed at his blatant lie. “You’re a terrible liar. Try again.”

Hyunjin resisted. “What are you doing here, Y/N?”

“Why not?” You asked instead. “You’re my partner.”

‘Am I only that?’ he wanted to ask instead but no words left his mouth. He simply stared back at you, watching as a frown formed on your face at his silence and refusal to cooperate. It only proved you that there was something wrong with him.

Hyunjin easily freed himself from your grip and slumped further into his chair. “I’m sure you have better things to do, Y/N.” Maybe pushing you away wasn’t his brightest idea, but Hyunjin wasn’t sure he would be able to control himself and to hide his emotions. He didn’t want you to see just how affected he was.

“You’re right.” You said and jumped from his desk. For once, you didn’t want to push his limits. You didn’t want to fight. “I should probably go back to people who actually miss me.”

The moment you turned your back to leave, Hyunjin saw again the image of you, happy, with a man other than him and he didn’t like it. Before you could take another step, Hyunjin bolted from his chair and grabbed your arm. He spun you in his arms and claimed your mouth, any protests swallowed by his mouth.

There was absolutely no way, he could let you leave.

Contrary to what he thought you would do; you didn’t try to push him away. No, he felt you smiling against his lips, knowing you had win this game so damn easily. It should alarm him, but he didn’t find it in him to care. Not when you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to your body. Not when you fought him just as hardly for dominance.

Hyunjin lifted you from the floor, bringing you back on top of his desk. He stood between your legs, grinding against you. His whole body was begging him to do something, to taste you, to devour you. You were his drug and he was more than eager to indulge in his addiction.

“And here I thought you wanted me to leave, Hwang.” You managed to say, wanting to sound smug, but instead your voice came out breathy.

Hyunjin refused to answer to your provocation. Instead, he hiked your skirt and slid his hand between your legs, humming in satisfaction. You were soaked and he barely touched you. “How come you’re already this wet, darling?”

Hyunjin slipped two fingers inside you with ease, teasing. So wet. So warm. So perfect. And only for him.

You bit on your lips to prevent a moan from escaping. Futile attempt. “Mmmh, maybe because I was thinking about you.”

Hyunjin smiled lazily. “Is that so?” He pulled out his fingers and brought them to his lips, to have a taste. His drug. “Are you hoping to get fucked tonight, Y/N?”

Judging by the glint in his eyes, you guessed that trying to play coy would get you nowhere. “Yes.” You admitted. Because truth was, you couldn’t get enough of him too.

Hyunjin’s smile stretched wider. His hands left your body to unzip his pants, showing you your prize. His pretty cock. Hard and needy. “And who am I to deny you?”

You licked your lips in hunger and anticipation, your body remembering how nice he felt. How nice his cock could stretch you.

Hyunjin pushed your legs further apart and filled you to the hilt with one strong push. You threw your head back as a loud and needy moan escaped your lips. Hyunjin groaned as you clenched without thinking around him.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He growled and slowly pulled out until just the tip of his cock was inside of you.

“Don’t hold back.” You pleaded. You wanted him to show you no mercy. To ruin you completely. To leave you begging, drooling, unable to do anything except beg for his cock.

Hyunjin hovered over you and planted a sweet kiss. The last one before he let go. He thrust back in. Strong. Deep. Every thrust harder than the last.

You thrashed under him, trying to grab at anything to keep you grounded.

Pointless.

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head at the intensity. But his hand closed around your neck, forcing you to keep your eyes open. Forcing you to look him in the eyes as he fucked you with intensity, bringing you closer to your sweet release. So close you could taste it. You could feel it.

“Please, Hyunjin,” You begged, tears pricking your eyes. Your whole body was burning, shaking, begging for release. “I’m so close.”

Hyunjin smirked, “I love when you beg, Y/N.”

Just when you thought you would explode, Hyunjin slowed down. He did once. Twice. By the third time you writhed and cried. You grabbed his arms, scratching him in retribution but it only made him grin.

“Say what you need.”

“Hyunjin, I can’t. Please.” You pleaded, too desperate for relief.

And he complied. He fucked you with force, hitting the sweet spot inside you that made your toes curl. You tried to keep your eyes open, but you couldn’t. Not when your orgasm hit you, waves of pleasures. Your body shook, unable to stop as Hyunjin kept fucking you.

Hyunjin came with a shudder before collapsing on top of you, his head pressed to your breasts. You stayed in silence. The only sound in the room were your pants and the loud beating of your hearts.

“Come to my place?” You found your voice and yet you didn’t sound like yourself. Too vulnerable.

Hyunjin peeked at you, his hair sticking to his face. “Round two?”

***

You were full of surprises.

Hyunjin realized as he stood in the middle of your living room that he should definitely stop making assumptions about you. He came to terms that despite the time the two of you had spent together there were still so many layers of your personality, many things about your life that he didn’t know but was more than eager to find out.

Who would have guessed that you enjoyed cooking? It seemed so out of character. He thought your hobbies would definitely revolve around knives and different kind of weapons. And maybe a shopping addict because your outfits always looked on point. And yet when he glanced over his shoulder and saw you cooking and humming to yourself, it seemed so natural. You had tied your hair in a messy bun and had changed into more comfortable clothes; grey sweatpants and an oversized white t-shirt. You looked so homey, so comfortable, Hyunjin had to fight the urge to join you and backhug you.

He shook off the image of you and him for the sake of his sanity and instead took his time to observe your place. Last night, his attention was fully on you, he barely noticed the details. Hyunjin expected to see a place cold, without personality and with only few furniture because you seemed like someone who just didn’t have time to linger for long in one place.

Boy wrong he was. Warm colors, fluffy blankets and pillows spread all over the couch and on a single chair. Dozens of shelves with books occupied two walls. Pictures all over the main wall in the living room. So many pictures. Hyunjin walked to the wall, his hands in his pockets. Pictures that showed you at different stages of your life. On some you looked like a high-schooler, on some a little older, and always surrounded by people. You looked happy, a big smile plastered on your face on every pictures and sometimes you were making silly faces. On one picture he recognized Chris; he had one arm around your shoulders, dimples on full display and another girl with the two of you. But what got his full attention was the picture of you and the man he recognized from earlier. You were on his back, laughing.

“Ah. You found my wall of memories.” You joined him and looked fondly at the pictures.

“You look different.” Hyunjin admitted without looking at you. You looked free, happy and so warm. A side of you he saw glimpses from time to time but he wondered what it would be like if you were always like this.

You hummed in response.

“Who are they?” Hyunjin asked when really all he wanted to ask was: who is this guy?

“Friends. Some I met years ago and some during my missions.”

“And him?” Hyunjin ended up pointing at the mysterious guy. Was he another of your friends? He looked too comfortable with you, too touchy, too close.

Your face softened at the picture. “My cousin and the only family left. He’s a pain in my ass but I love him.”

Did Hyunjin feel a little dumb for believing he was something more? Yeah. But was he also relieved? Hell yes. He almost wept in relief. He didn’t dare to look at you, scared you would see the emotions written all over his face. But if he thought he could hide from you, he was once more wrong. You saw how tensed he was before he found out the identity of the guy and you didn’t forget his behaviour in his office.

You drew nearer, watching him. “Tell me, Hwang,” You wrapped your arms around his neck and gently tug at his hair. “Did you think he was my man?” You brushed your lips against his, smiling against him. “You’re a terrible spy by the way.”

Fuck my life. Hyunjin should have known that his spying skill weren’t on par with yours but he still thought he was being discrete. Or maybe he was too caught up in his head when he saw you with your cousin and simply didn’t hide well enough.

You bit on his lower lip making him growl. “Were you jealous?”

Hyunjin opened his mouth to protest but closed it as quickly. Who was he kidding? He was jealous and you both knew it.

You laughed fondly and pecked his lips once more before going back to the kitchen without a word.

Jisung was right. He was completely and utterly whipped for you.

***

When Namjoon asked to see him, Hyunjin almost expected another meeting with you. Yet, this time around he was the only one to come. Was it an ominous sign? Maybe but Hyunjin refused to think about it. The past week was incredible. It seemed that the universe was finally smiling at him. Or maybe he got lucky. Either way, he was thriving.

A lead in his case. Many nights tangled up in your sheets. Many stolen kisses. Many giggles. Everything to be happy.

“Should I worry?” Namjoon asked as he eyed him. “You look too happy.” He added seeing his confused face.

Hyunjin bit the inside of his cheek to hold back his smile and shook his head.

Namjoon quirked a brow but didn’t comment. He pushed some papers instead towards him. Hyunjin leaned closer and took a look. He stiffened as he saw the names mentioned on the papers.

“What the,” Hyunjin stopped himself on time. His eyes darted back and forth between what clearly was the contract between the crows and Park Minjun. “How?” But Hyunjin had a feeling, he already knew how. The image of you and blood on your clothes popped in his mind. It had to be you.

“Y/N brought it yesterday. Along with the list of people the crows wanted to sell the weapons too.” Namjoon explained and relaxed in his seat. “I have everything I need for the next step. Which also means the two of you don’t need to work together anymore.”

Hyunjin’s stomach sank at his words. Of course, it was bound to happen sooner or later and it shouldn’t worry him so much now that he was spending more time with you without even talking about work. But then, he was with you last night, you could have told him. But you didn’t. Why?

Namjoon observed him in silence. He expected Hyunjin to be happy to finally be free of you and your temper, but he guessed easily he was wrong. “You seem disappointed.”

“I-“ Hyunjin began and stopped himself. Disappointed was an understatement but he couldn’t tell him that. Instead, he cleared his throat and straightened his back. “No, I’m good.”

“Is that so?” Namjoon wasn’t convinced but didn’t insist, it wasn’t his business. “But in case you’re wondering, Y/N asked for few days off. You won’t see her around.”

***

Hyunjin had a bad feeling that had everything to do with the damn contract you had brought to Namjoon. You kept doing things on your own, things that clearly were dangerous if not impossible to accomplish. And yet, you somehow managed to pull it off. Did you get help? Did you somehow manage to infiltrate the crows? Or maybe you had someone inside who was willing to take a huge risk for you. There were so many possible theories in his mind. One thing was sure, he needed to make sure you weren’t in trouble.

Like any normal person, Hyunjin tried calling you. Once, twice. Ten times and with no result. It was his first clue that something he didn’t know about was going on. Then, he called Jisung. He didn’t want to overstep some boundaries but he couldn’t ignore how his worries were consuming him from inside.

Thankfully, Jisung didn’t send him straight to his voicemail. “Whatever it is, I can’t help you.” As if Jisung knew from the start why he was calling.

Hyunjin’s nostrils flared at his words. “Where is she?”

“Who?”

“My mother.” Hyunjin snapped. It wasn’t in his character to snap at people and especially not at his friends but his patience was running thin. “Y/N. Who else?”

“No clue, why?”

Hyunjin took a deep breath, clenched his fist and counted to ten. Why did it need to be so damn complicated? “Jisung. You’re a terrible liar. You have tabs on everyone. Even Namjoon. So tell me, where is she?”

Jisung gasped loudly, offended that he would use his little secret against him. “I do-“

“Please.” Hyunjin cut him. “I just need to make sure she’s okay.”

“I promise you she’s more than okay.” Jisung tried to appease him.

“Jisung.”

“You can’t call me every time you need help with her! I’m also her friend and it sucks to be stuck between you two.”

Hyunjin winced at his words that felt like a slap. Jisung was right. And Hyunjin did feel bad about it. Except, when it came to you, he became a selfish bastard. ��And I’m sorry for that. But please, help me out.”

“She’s going to have my head.” Jisung grumbled more to himself than to Hyunjin, but despite his words, Hyunjin heard him doing his little magic trick on his computer.

***

Getting inside a bar, unnoticed, in the middle of the day was harder than Hyunjin had imagined. And just maybe he had overestimated his spying skills. Again. The first person to notice him was the barman; he stared at him with a quirked brow, clearly curious with Hyunjin’s little game. Hyunjin expected him to say something and maybe call the security– he didn’t. He shrugged as if he didn’t care, as if it wasn’t his business.

Hyunjin was not complaining with his little luck.

“I’m not having this conversation with you.” Hyunjin recognized your voice instantly. He found you at the other side of the room, heading to the hall along with two other men. And boy you looked pissed. He didn’t know what these men did to offend you, but he bet they were about to spend a very bad time with you.

Any other day, Hyunjin would have felt sympathy for these poor men, but then, Hyunjin really looked at them. One face, he was familiar with. A man he recognized from an old case; he had been a suspect but because of lack of proof he was still a free man. Why are you with him, Y/N?

Curiosity got the best of him; Hyunjin followed you, trying not to make any sound.

“He’s furious.” The second man commented, sounding nervous as he spoke.

“I don’t see how it’s my problem.” You completely disregarded his worries.

“Y/N, you don’t understand. He’s ready to shoot us all if we don’t confess-“ He tried again but you raised your hand, without even looking at him, and it was enough to shut him up.

Hyunjin had to admit it; he was impressed with how your whole body radiated with authority and power. They obeyed you as if they were scared of what you could possibly do to them if they utter one more wrong word.

“And I think,” A voice echoed right from behind Hyunjin. He realized too late that while he thought he was being discrete, someone else had spotted him and had a gun pointed right at his head. Shit.

“You should have this conversation somewhere else.” The man behind him finished.

You glanced over your shoulder. Instead of freezing on the spot or calling for him, you simply stared blankly at them. For once, Hyunjin couldn’t read you, couldn’t tell how you felt about seeing him here. And maybe it worried him a little. Whatever you were doing, he wondered if it was on Namjoon’s behalf. Would you compromise your mission to help him out?

“Walk.” The man behind him gave him a nudge, forcing Hyunjin to get closer to you.

Hyunjin tried to keep his cool, tried not to show how he truly felt but his heart was beating fast and loud inside his chest.

Hyunjin was shoved inside a room. He barely had time to react and to steady himself that a man punched him in the stomach. He stumbled and cursed under his breath. Maybe following you wasn’t his brightest idea after all. Despite the pain, he managed to have a proper look at you. To others, you looked cold, but he saw how your body was tense, your fists clenched. You weren’t indifferent after all and this small fact comforted him.

“What should we do with him?” One of them asked, eying you as if you were the one to decide.

“We should kill him.” Another suggested as he pointed at Hyunjin with his gun. Someone was eager to get rid of him. Hyunjin would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little bit worried for his safety. If you didn’t intervene, he would have to fight his way out.

Too concentrated on you, Hyunjin didn’t pay any attention to the other three men. He should have. One of them closed the distance between them and drove his knee into the back of Hyunjin’s, forcing him to the ground. Hyunjin groaned, his instincts wanting him to fight back – he didn’t. No, Hyunjin’s whole attention was only on you.

“Who sent you?” One of them crunched to his level but despite his closeness, Hyunjin’s eye were still on you. That, didn’t go unnoticed. The man punched his face, not liking Hyunjin’s behavior. “I asked you a question.”

“What make you think someone sent me?” Hyunjin finally answered but still was not looking at him. He was watching you. And only you. He didn’t want to miss any flinch, any twitch of your eyes, every twitch in your jaw. He wanted to see how you reacted to the violence. See if you cared. “Have you seen this lady?” Hyunjin pointed at you. “What make you think that I’m not here because of her? Because she had me completely bewitched?”

The man scoffed and straightened up. “This bastard is crazy.”

The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Nobody talked. Hyunjin because there was nothing left to say. You, because you were staring back at him. As for the men, they felt there was something going on but couldn’t understand it.

“Leave us.” You ordered without looking at the men.

“Y/N. You don’t have time. Boss wants to see you.” One of them reminded you.

The only sign of your annoyance was your clenched jaw but you still weren’t looking at them.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” You warned them.

But they weren’t listening to you. Or maybe they didn’t know you well enough not to push you. “Let us deal with him.”

A knife flew straight to the man’s shoulder making him cry out in pain and stumble.

“I’ll deal with him and then I’ll meet with boss.” You assured them with one deadly glare. “Now, get lost.”

And this time, they did.

Hyunjin had hoped you would drop your act with their absence, that you would explain yourself – except you didn’t. You stared at him with annoyance and already another knife in your hand.

Hyunjin got back on his feet. He wished he could come closer to you, could wrap his arms around you and make sure that everything was fine. But for once, he listened to the little voice in his head, telling him to stay alert. It wasn’t over yet.

“They respect you.” He commented.

You shrugged and your eyes darted on your knife. “They do. Most of the time.”

“Who are they, Y/N?” Hyunjin wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to his question.

“Idiots working for the crows.”

Hyunjin’s breath hitched in his throat. “And their boss wants to see you.”

You tuck the knife back in your boot and took a deep breath. The situation couldn’t get any worse, but it somehow did. “Yes.”

There was one question that Hyunjin should be asking. One question that was right on the tip of his tongue and yet, he couldn’t do it. Asking it would complicate things.

“Ask it, Hyunjin.” As you grew nearer, Hyunjin’s heart beat faster. The way you looked at him, the way your body moved – it screamed danger. You halted right before him. Gently, you stroked his cheek.

Hyunjin didn’t want to ask because now he knew, the moment you would give him your answer; his bubble of happiness would burst for good. He did it anyway. “Are you working for the crows?”

Please, say no.

“Yes.”

Hyunjin barely had time to hear your answer. To understand it. Everything turned black.

Rage nearly consumed you.

Hyunjin shouldn’t have been here. He shouldn’t have been seen by these idiots. The moment Jun had pointed his gun at Hyunjin, you had to fight the need to step in and damn the consequences. But then, when Doyun forced Hyunjin on his knees, the urge to hurt someone got so strong, you weren’t sure what compelled you to keep your composure. From outside you had looked indifferent, cold, but inside? You were screaming and burning with the urge to kill and get Hyunjin far from this damn place.

You were late and judging by how anxious the guys were, you could only imagine in what kind of mood the boss was. But you didn’t care. Not when another man occupied all your thoughts.

You pulled your phone from your pocket and dialed Jisung’s number. You prayed for his own good that he wouldn’t make you wait and answer the god damn phone. There was only one, insufferable person, who could have told Hyunjin where you were.

He answered. “Listen,” Jisung tried but you didn’t let him talk.

“Shut up! You little piece of shit!” You yelled, your grip on your phone was so strong, you wouldn’t be surprised if it cracked. “What were you thinking, Jisung?”

Jisung sighed on the other side. He had been your friend long enough to know that whatever excuses he would try to give you, in this state, you wouldn’t listen. You wouldn’t care. “Hello to you too, sunshine.” He chose to say instead.

He had a dead wish. “Don’t.” you warned him with a growl.

“Y/N…”

“What were you thinking?” You repeated again.

There was a loud noise from Jisung’s side, as if he had either pushed something or maybe smashed it. “He was worried, ok? What were you expecting me to tell him?”

“Anything! What if I was with my uncle?” You refused to imagine what could have possibly happened but your brain still did it. You closed your eyes, wanting to erase the image from your mind but it wouldn’t go. You kept seeing Hyunjin and the damn gun.

Your hand shook and at any moment you could let go of your phone. “He would have killed him on the spot, Ji. No question asked.”

Jisung didn’t say anything for a moment, proceeding your words. “And it bothers you?”

“Of course, it does!” The moment those words left your mouth, you realized two things: one, how true they sounded and two, you regretted admitting it to Jisung out of all people. You adored your friend, but he was noisy and would make sure to remind you every day your confession.

“Oh Y/N,” Jisung cooed, forgetting for a second that you were in a sour mood. “Do you actually like Hyunjin?”

Yes. But you held back those words. He didn’t need to know it. “You’re next on my shit list.” And you hung up.

He wasn’t really on your list. Would probably never be, but you didn’t mind him worrying over it.

You stared at your phone for a moment, considering your next step. The reasonable thing to do would go and meet with the boss as it was expected of you but one glance at the door behind you and your resolution wavered. You couldn’t leave Hyunjin unattended. You couldn’t let someone find him and hurt him.

Fuck it.

You opened your conversation with Chris and quickly texted him.

‘I need your help.’

***

Your uncle was indeed incredibly pissed. Not that you expected anything less and not that you could blame him. After all, he had been working on his little project for a year, making sure that everybody was on board with his plan. Making sure to drive Park Minjun in a corner, leaving him with no choice but beg for his help. And what help. A shitty contract. The control of his business in exchange for safety. If only he knew that his current situation was because of him.

Lee Beomseok, your uncle, and the boss of the crows. A man known for his business, for his methods, for his cruelty and zero bullshit policy. He was respected and feared in the underground world. Sometimes, you were impressed with his accomplishment. But most of the times, you wanted to see his world burn.

“Confess!” He yelled at the poor, shaking man at his feet. So maybe Jun wasn’t exaggerating when he said your uncle had finally lost it and started killing every suspect, even if it meant killing his own men.

“Please.” The man begged, his shaking only intensifying as your uncle pressed the gun harder to his head. “It’s not me. I would ne-“ But your uncle didn’t give a damn about his talk of loyalty. He shot the poor man in the head.

You whistled, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest, a look of indifference on your face. “Someone is in a mood.”

You didn’t think his face could get any angrier but it did. The veins in his neck were showing, his face red. “Leave us!” he barked.

Nobody protested, they scurried away in fright.

Your uncle stared at you, his breath shallow. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists, probably trying to calm himself down. You weren’t one of his men, his outbursts didn’t faze you. Not anymore. You weren’t ten anymore and he knew it.

“You were supposed to lead them astray.” He said after a moment of silence. He walked to his chair and took seat.

“I did.” You reminded him without bothering to look at him, instead you checked your nails, knowing damn well that your lack of reaction would only fuel his anger. Maybe it amused you a little to see him in this state, his composure long forgotten.

“Y/N.” He warned you.

“What?” You sighed and looked at him, “It’s not my fault if someone gave them your stupid contract and the list. How did you even manage to lose it?” Were you enjoying yourself reminding him his own failures? Absolutely.

You noticed how his left eye twitched at your words, you bet he wanted to grab his gun and shot you on the spot – he wouldn’t. After years of working for him, you knew he valued you too much to kill you.

He slumped further into his chair. “I’m still looking for the fucker who dared to betray me.”

You pushed yourself of the wall and took seat. “Where did you keep it?”

He looked at you, annoyed. “Where do you think?”

“Your safe then. Not many people know where you hide it.” You noted, “Maybe, instead of shooting all your poor men, you should look into your closest circle.” Not that he would find the traitor among them but you wouldn’t mind seeing him kill some of his trusted men.

He considered your advice for a moment and nodded his head. “When I find the traitor, I’ll make him pay his mistake.” He promised.

Except he would never find the traitor. For two simple reasons. One, he underestimated his own son too much and two you made sure while Yeonjun was helping you to steal from his old daddy, Jisung erased all traces of him ever being present in this place.

“Do you need my help?”

Your uncle shook his head. “No. I need you to take care of some business partners who became too bold.”

Of course, the answer to all his problems was always to kill.

“How should I deal with them?”

“Do what you do best.”

A small smile spread on your face. His order was clear. But there was something else you were better at. He just didn’t know it yet.

Hyunjin woke up with his head killing him. It took him a moment to force his eyes to open. He tried to straighten himself in the bed, only to groan in pain. Fuck my life. He palmed his forehead, trying to sooth the pain.

It took him another five minutes to notice his surroundings.

A room. A very unfamiliar room. And then everything flashed through his mind.

The bar. You. The crows. You. Him almost dying because he cared too much. Him being an idiot. You. A damn spy right under their noses.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

His head was no longer the only thing that hurt. His chest. His heart clenching so tightly, he thought he could die. Hyunjin couldn’t breathe properly with all the thoughts and images running wild in his head. And yet, with his panic came one realization.

He was still alive.

Hyunjin forced his breath to slow down and had a proper look at his surroundings. It was clear to him that he was no longer in the bar. The room was too nice and looked to expensive. Had he been taken prisoner?

Hyunjin climbed off the bed and slowly approached the door, expecting that any second someone would pop out of nowhere and attack him and finish the job.

None of that happened.

He tried the door and surprisingly it was unlocked which left Hyunjin even more confused. Was he not a prisoner? Why would they let him roam free? With this thought on mind, he left his room, trying not to make any sound until he was certain that he wasn’t in danger.

Hyunjin’s confusion grew with every step he took. The place he was being held in was really too nice and looked expensive. He quickly realized it wasn’t a house but a damn penthouse. Would the crows keep him in a place like this? He doubted.

Instead of finding a stranger or you, Hyunjin found Chris on his phone, wearing comfortable clothes. That was not how he expected things to turn out.

“Oh. Good, you’re awake.” Chris offered him a comforting smile. “How’s your head?”

Hyunjin opened his mouth and closed it right away. He didn’t know what to say, what to ask. Nothing made sense anymore. He went for the easy answer, “I’ll survive.”

Chris hummed. “She didn’t need to smash your head so hard. But then again, it’s Y/N we’re talking about.”

“Why am I alive?” Hyunjin asked. It was the question that had been plaguing his mind the most.

Chris looked confused for a second. He cocked his brow, “Why shouldn’t you be?”

Because you had betrayed them all. Because while Hyunjin was slowly falling in love, you were only using him as a distraction and a means to an end. And yet, despite your harsh words, he was alive and safe. It bothered him and left him with even more questions.

“Because none of it was real.” Hyunjin finally admitted.

Chris got back on his feet and slowly approached him. “You’re alive because most of it was real.”

Hyunjin wanted to protest but Chris was right. He was alive which had to mean something. “You knew.” He said instead.

“Which part exactly?”

“That I couldn’t be her husband. And that she’s working for the crows.” The first time Hyunjin had met Chris, he had thought the man was suspicious because there was something going on between him and you. But maybe, he was wrong. Maybe, it had everything to do with Chris knowing exactly who you were.

“I had my suspicions for the husband part. But honestly, knowing Y/N, I wouldn’t be completely surprised either. As for the last part.” Chris paused and for a second it seemed to Hyunjin that he was somewhere else, lost in a memory. But then, his smile widened, his dimples showing up. “Yes. I wouldn’t have met her otherwise. She saved my ass.”

Chris put his hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder and gave it a strong yet comforting squeeze. “I think you know by now that our little Y/N is a little crazy and dangerous. She has been working her ass off to get what she wants. She was ready to sacrifice everything and everybody in exchange for her revenge. But not you.”

It was obvious by now that Chris knew everything about you. It would have bothered him another time, but now it comforted him more than he was willing to admit. Your betrayal still left him confused and hurt, but he found solace in his words.

Chris’s eyes softened while observing him. “She asked me to get you out and keep you safe for a while. But I figured you’d need some company, so I called for back-ups. They should arrive shortly.”

****

When Chris mentioned back-ups, Hyunjin didn’t think much of it, mainly because he had no clue who could help him out. Turns out, Chris knew exactly who Hyunjin needed to see. How he knew Jisung, Hyunjin could guess. But Namjoon? That was a whole new mystery for him to figure out.

“Dude, you look like shit.” Jisung commented and playfully patted his cheeks.

Hyunjin swatted his hands away from his face. He should probably feel concerned that Jisung kept telling him how bad he looked, but he was too tired and not in the mood for his playfulness. “Oh, fuck you.”

If he thought Jisung would be offended, he was wrong. Jisung chuckled and glanced at Chris, sharing a knowing look. “Sounds a lot like her.”

Namjoon sighed. “I think I need a drink. Or two.” As if Chris had sensed his need, he brought him a glass of what looked like whiskey and a second one for himself. “Thank you. Did you hear from her?”

Chris shook his head as he took a sip. “Not since I confirmed her I retrieved Hyunjin from the bar.”

While they talked, Hyunjin listened and watched. They all seemed so relaxed, unbothered and friendly with each other. And Hyunjin just couldn’t understand why. He never would have guessed that Jisung and Namjoon would actually meet outside of work. Scratch that, he wasn’t even aware they talked, despite Namjoon being their boss.

Sensing Hyunjin’s eyes on him, Namjoon stopped talking and instead approached him. “I have something for you.” He took out his phone and shoved it into his hands. “It’s all the information I have on Y/N.”

Hyunjin hesitated for only a second. Or maybe two. He started reading, surprised Namjoon had so much on her. After his encounter with you, Hyunjin didn’t know what to expect but every word he read about you made his heart clench painfully. A happy family torn apart by a terrible accident which left you an orphan at such young age.

“Lee Beomseok is her uncle. He took her in after her parents’ death.” Namjoon stopped his reading. “Instead of giving her a loving family, he raised her to become a killer. His personal weapon.”

No wonder they respected and feared her so much.

“He made sure she was the best at everything. And she is.” Namjoon continued, “But despite knowing how clever she was, he underestimated her.”

Hyunjin could barely imagine what life was for you. You were just a child, grieving, and yet forced to become something that was not in your nature. Hyunjin’s heart ached for your lost childhood, for the little girl turned into a killer for someone’s greediness.

“What changed?” Hyunjin asked. They hadn’t confirmed him that you weren’t a villain in the story, but it was implied.

“She found out he killed her parents.” Chris was the one to answer his question.

“What?” Hyunjin couldn’t believe it.

Namjoon nodded, confirming Chris’s words. “Being the closest to him, she could have easily killed him. But Y/N plays the long game. When he asked her to infiltrate our ranks, she saw it as an opportunity.”

“And you let her?” Hyunjin had a hard time believing that. Namjoon seemed as someone who always went by the rules. But apparently, Hyunjin was wrong once again.

“Oh believe me, I wanted to arrest her the moment she told me who she was.” Namjoon confessed, his eyes on his glass as he swirled the whiskey around in his glass, a small smile on his face. “But she was hella convincing.”

Yeah, he bet you were.

***

When Jisung and Namjoon left, Hyunjin returned to his room. He needed some time alone, even if he appreciated Chris’s company and willingness to answer almost all his questions. He needed to think, to proceed with all the information he had heard tonight about you.

Tonight, Hyunjin realized just how strong you were. Not only physical strength but also mentally. You managed to hide all your hatred, anger and resentment for years for the man only to have a chance to watch his empire crumble. But also, he admired how despite all the ugliness and death you had witnessed through the years, you still saw the good in people and the world.

Only one question remained. What of you two?

Before Hyunjin could dwell on the matter, he heard familiar voices from afar. Your voice. You were back and safe. It should have been enough for him, for now. But no. Bewitched, he followed your voice.

“You should talk to him.” Chris advised you.

You disregarded your jacket along with your gun and few knives. “That’s not a good idea.”

You didn’t look like yourself. Your hair was a mess. Dark circles under your eyes. He wondered how long he had been unconscious because you looked exhausted and unsteady. At least, you weren’t hurt.

Chris sighed and ruffled his hair in frustration. “Stop being a coward.” You snarled in response, eyes shooting daggers. But Chris wasn’t impressed with your attempt at intimidating him. “You care for him and he cares for you. Don’t run away from something good in your life.”

“Me caring for someone never ends well.” You whispered and avoided his eyes.

“I disagree.” Chris put his hands on your shoulders and gave it a squeeze. “Yeonjun would disagree too.”

“You know it will put a target on his back.” You protested.

Hyunjin decided that you should have this conversation with him and not Chris. He couldn’t hide his presence any longer. “I think; I have a say in this.”

Chris didn’t seem surprised seeing him in the room. Or maybe he had spotted him from the beginning and was trying to make you confess so Hyunjin would know how you truly felt. You, on the other hand, froze on the spot. You couldn’t look at him.

Chris walked to Hyunjin, patted his back and smiled. “Good luck.”

Yeah, he would need it.

For a while, you looked everywhere but at him. It annoyed Hyunjin that you wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t talk to him. After everything they went through together, he didn’t think you would try to avoid a confrontation.

Hyunjin considered what he should say. Ask about your life with the crows? Ask about your family? Or should he just ask what he meant to you? Now, he knew that you cared more than you were willing to admit and this thought comforted him. Not everything was a lie. Not everything was a game.

“Namjoon told me your story.” Hyunjin finally said and started walking toward you.

That got a reaction from you. Your eyes widened in surprise. “Namjoon was here?”

Hyunjin nodded. “Chris called Namjoon and Jisung. He figured I’d need their help to understand.” And then another step toward you. But you, you took a step back, trying to keep the distance between the two of you. As if it would stop Hyunjin.

More you tried to escape and more it amused him. Until there was nowhere else to go. You had your back pressed to the wall and Hyunjin stood right before you, giving you no choice but to look at him.

“Stop it.” You put your hands on his chest and gave it a push. He didn’t budge. “Hyunjin.”

“I’m sorry he stole your childhood.” He said instead. His voice soft. Compassionate.

You averted your eyes. You didn’t want to see the emotions in his eyes. You didn’t want him to convince you there was a something out there for the two of you. “Don’t be.”

“You deserve to be happy too, Y/N.”

“I’ll be happy if you stay away from me.” You snapped and looked at him. The need to push him away was strong but the moment your eyes locked, your heart missed a beat. Despite your outburst, Hyunjin was smiling fondly at you. “There’s something incredibly wrong with you, Hwang.”

Hyunjin chuckled, agreeing with you. He leaned closer, his lips hovering over yours. “You’re a very bad influence.”

You sucked in a breath. “Even more reasons for you to stay away from me.”

He hummed. His lips brushed yours, so lightly, it could have been your imagination. “I don’t want to. And I don’t think you really want me to either.” And then another press of his lips, this time a little stronger. “You can’t get rid of me now.”

“I’m going to kick you.” You threatened. You would do no such things. Not when he kissed the corner of your mouth. “Or punch you.” You sounded less and less convincing. With every small kiss, your resolution crumbled.

But then he stopped. Hyunjin grabbed your chin, his grip strong. “You’re not getting rid of me, Y/N.”

“When did you get so bold?”

“When I realized I fell for you.” Hyunjin admitted. There was no point denying it. No point hiding it. Despite knowing now everything you had done, some terrible things to get what you wanted, Hyunjin couldn’t deny how he felt. Couldn’t unsee the good person hiding in you. “That’s why, my lovely, murderous, Y/N, there’s no getting rid of me.”

Slowly, you pushed yourself from the wall and wrapped your arms around his neck. “You are in trouble, Hwang.”

“Worth it.”

#stray kids #hyunjin #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #stray kids fic #hyunjin fic #skz smut #criminal love

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kentocalls · 3 days

Text

jiraiya | breadcrumbs nsfw. it’s a situationship but the good kind, i wanted to thank @actuallysaiyan for writing all those prompts. also the gif 🥵

he groans, crosses out the line that’s lived for only three seconds, the words dancing around his eyes, mocking him. he’s the renown author of the Icha Icha series. he can write, move his audience with his captivating comedy and well timed eruptions of emotions. but this, this piece of work is draining everything from him.

his cup is empty, his snacks gone. tense and frustrated he snaps his pen across the room. he could find something, someone to help take his mind off of it all. except he’s causes enough of a racket, his mission isn’t an easy one and he’s not exactly kept low key about his presence. it’s going to mean more paperwork and an earful from superiors and writing was supposed to help. the editor would be less person to yell at him. alas. the night is not in his favor.

the village is silent, most folks already asleep. he can hear cats fighting if he really tried but even then, his stares at the blank wall ahead. a flash of the prettiest lips fills his mind and he aches.

his mind trails after the confident, youthful, smart shinobi who had his knees gracing the ground with a simple ask. he doesn't know how it started, doesn't care where it goes, wants more. maybe there's enough clues if he looks for them, maybe his favorite has graced him with kindness and left a morsel.

enough is enough, he’s leaving tomorrow. the change of pace necessary, he has to keep moving. because who he’s seeking isn’t here and the mission is at a dead end too. t

he wind offers another pause from his thoughts, tempation, cool against his skin gentle, inviting. he closes his eyes, takes half a second to let his body relax, half a second to imagine it’s not the wind’s gentle caress but wait! he didn’t open the window, he wouldn’t this late and—

there’s your scent and something medicinal permeating the room.

you’ve always been fast. confidnet. slipping into unsavory places with ease.

making the most excellent shinobi and his worst habit.

by the time he’s done looking at the window your seated on his desk, writing pad in arms as your eyes trace over the latest pagse written. you’ve always loved spoilers, itching to know what happens before everyone else.

it makes him feel smug, after all these are fresh words, something exclusive only he can offer. gods, he’s missed your face, notes swollen lips and tired eyes, ignores the scratches near your chin. what you both do is dangerous, tedious, necessary. he won't ask because you can't tell. still the thought, did you rush over immedidately after a succes?

eyes rake your beautiful form spilling over his work desk.

your uniform has seen better days but he’s so so so pleased to see exposed skin. your legs look so smooth, nevermind new scratches and old scares greeting him.

he’s staring, gawking like an inexperienced brat, it would be embarrassing, you’d tease him endlessly for it, however, you’re so engrossed in his writing. swaying your legs softly, they dangle freely off the desk, and yet managing to cage him in. his palms reach up, kisses at a small cut on your knee, large palms soothing, fondling, massaging your thighs. itching to admire.

you’re here.

skin is hot, face is a bit flushed though you’re hiding it behind a stoic expression, eyes stealing more and more words. it’s not that long of a chapter, he sighs and pulls you closer, face nuzzling into your stomach, you can feel his kisses through your uniform. needy.

he’s usually wordy, jokey, loud. leaves no space for the outside world when it’s just you two, but right now he’s being such a good boy. you wonder how long it’ll last, the fact he’s being gentle and slow with his movements is trippy. especially when you know how tough he is, have seen him snap men in half so casually. flaunts his reputation, his height, his fame like he’s breathing but right now? letting you read unreleased, unedited writing?

letting you sit on his precious desk, your scent will drive him mad when you’re gone in the morning. he doesn’t have to be nice, could’ve easily stopped you from slipping into his room. taken you against the wall, you wouldn’t have protested. except he didn’t, he’s being the most gracious host.

that’s the only reason one of your hands plays with his long locks, eyes pulling away from his writing pad when your fingers, inevitably, tangle. “hair’s gotten too long.”

“to match yours.” he muffles, before leaning back and looking up almost innocent. like his hands aren’t squeezing and molding and clawing at your thighs. like his mouth isn’t kissing lower and lower, as if he isn’t inhaling that sweet scent that’s evaded him for months now.

you hum, spreading your legs wider, tilting your hips a little higher, his hands know what to do, moving to the waistband of your bottoms, “why’s this one so serious?”

“if you read the other two you’d see why.” he grins, a lazy hand drawing circles from your bellybutton down to your clothed sex and your hand snaps to his wrist with such power. “i like my uniform, i need it clean.” your glare sends shivers down his spine, you’d be mean for him if he asked right?

“and where are the other two?” he doesn’t want you to move, he doesn’t want to spend time playing writer and editor. he much rather gather more field experience, engaging in physical activities has always been his forte, he’s a hands on learner afterall.

crumbles the second your hand is patting at his cheek, pulling his hair and crashing your lips to his. it’s greedy, messy, hungry. you’ve been pent up too. the missions come one after the other and you’re such a high rank, all those secrets and no where to bury them — who knows the weight of all the pain you cary better than one of the legendary sannin?

it’s why you seek him out, over and over again

he doesn’t ask for more, doesn’t push and always pulls you close.

“i wanna…” he nips at your lips, stop distracting him, moves his hands under your top and up, squeezing, groping, pulling, “need too, ah, read the other two first.”

“you’ve worked hard enough,” finally your legs wrap around his hips, he lifts you up so easily, grips the back of your neck firmly, earning a moan, oh you need him, “let me take care of you.”

laying under him, he’s extra careful peeling your clothing off, aware your previous warning still hangs true. you’d take a kunai to his arm if he dirties another uniform. in another setting, he'd like that very much. but he's barely containing his urges, forces hands to work with extra patience, despite his pressing need making itself known. makes a haste of kissing, licking, biting, bruising what can be hidden. for both your eyes only.

you’re so pretty for him.

he tries to pace himself, tries not to get caught up in spite of all his reasoning to go slow he’s a frantic mess. hands clasping with yours, using one arm to hold both your arms above your head, you comply so easily, mouth open and wanton and how the fuck is he going to do all the things he wants to do if he can’t stop kissing you?

a hand snacks down your chest, pinching, fingernails lightly scratching before reaching your core and the gasp you make; drives him insane, let him be a little mean, a little rough, the sounds he makes deepening your need further. his own hips canting against your thigh and sheets.

part of him still doesn’t believe you’re here. that you're not an illusion. that he doesn’t need to wreck his brain and imagine the sounds slipping freely from your lips, that he can take you in with all his senses. have you falling apart in all the ways he knows you adore.

“pretty pretty thing…” he’s sucking and biting on your neck, sliding another finger in and the sloshing sounds cause your cheeks to burn. you want more, hips bucking up on their own, you want so much more but he’s breaking a rule.

“no ma-marks, jiraiya, don’t—“ silencing you with a heated kis, hand frees your arms, one to squeeze at your neck; it’s just enough pressure, how you like it; brain almost turning almost mush. but he’s pulls back, grins wide with a third finger in you now. you’re so wet, sounds absolutely filthy.

“let’s ruin ourselves for anyone else, yeah?” and fuck, he can’t say shit like that when you’re like this, body clenching around him. call it lust, call it longing, call it satisfaction whatever he has you chasing is where you want to go. the softest kiss on lips and he starts to trail down, praises and naughty things whipsered into your skin.

editing his draft can wait.

that’s not why you snuck in anyways.

#not jjk #jiraiya sensei #jiraiya x reader #jiraiya smut #i hope i did the line justice #april writes #in my head reader is a badass shinobi / anbu level stuff #so permanent isn't it but you can't quit him can you?#not like he'd let you go #bad habits die hard and all that jazz #jiraiya breadcrumbs

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starsreminisce · 2 days

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what are your thoughts on the dynamics of the archeron family

Short answer: A lot of boundaries are blurred, and both Feyre and Nesta were parentified, leaving all of them struggling to understand how to be sisters to one another.

Their journeys in the books are directed toward three main goals: healing a wound caused by their mother, fulfilling an aspiration from their father, and reassessing their feelings and roles towards each other. Interestingly, their mates provide them with what they always longed for from their father.

While both Papa Archie and Mama Archie failed their daughters, Mama Archie emerges as the biggest villain throughout the books.

The idea of the books ending with their mother's vision fulfilled—having all her daughters stay together—is scream-inducing, considering she is the most toxic person in the series.

In contrast, their father's hope for them is much more positive and meaningful, as they work towards building a better world—a vision that began with him urging Feyre to leave.

Long answer:

When I see their mother, it's on sight.

Feyre and Nesta have said nothing good about their mother. Yet, their father seemed to love her unconditionally, and when she passed, compounded by a series of unfortunate events, he was unable to provide and be the parent his daughters needed.

A hard lesson someone might never fully learn is that parents are just like their children—human, flawed, and burdened with their own unhealed traumas and poor coping mechanisms. The concept of mental health awareness was nonexistent then. Many people have suffered and died, yet the five stages of grief were only published in 1969.

While Papa Archie should have done x, y, and z, and should have been the parent he ought to be, the story began precisely because he didn’t. There would be no ACOTAR if Feyre had not learned to hunt and provide for her family.

Moreover, there would also be no ACOTAR if Papa Archie had told Feyre to obey the promise made to her mother. I headcanon that he was either glamoured or his mind was heavily altered because the Papa Archie in the cottage and the Papa Archie in the manor upon her return seemed completely different.

“Feyre,” my father said. His fingers trembled as he grasped my gloved hands, but his eyes became clearer and bolder than I’d seen them in years. “You were always too good for here, Feyre. Too good for us, too good for everyone.” He squeezed my hands. “If you ever escape, ever convince them that you’ve paid the debt, don’t return.” I hadn’t expected a heart-wrenching good-bye, but I hadn’t imagined this, either. “Don’t ever come back,” my father said, releasing my hands to shake me by the shoulders. “Feyre.” He stumbled over my name, his throat bobbing. “You go somewhere new—and you make a name for yourself.”

It's not about what you did then, it's about what you'll change now. I've seen the criticisms about how he didn't do enough, how performative bringing the fleet was, and so on. But consider what Papa Archie was going through: the love of his life died from a disease, they had been in debt for at least three generations, and the answer to their money woes sank. He had three beautiful daughters entering society, where dowries were crucial—Nesta received her first proposal at fourteen. He was then beaten by his creditors until his knee broke. So not only was he physically incapacitated, but his reputation also suffered, making it impossible to gather funds.

I would give Papa Archie some grace for not being able to be the parent his daughters needed. However, I see no redemption for their mother.

Feyre's journey involved learning to prioritize her own needs over being the family caretaker. Nesta's journey involved unlearning toxic patterns and channeling her energy into something that gives her a sense of purpose. Elain’s journey, considering she was described as her mother's doll and urgently needed a match before her beauty faded, hints at what her story will entail.

It’s interesting that their father’s aspirations in the first book seem to weave into their stories and are reflected in their mates.

He told Feyre to make a name for herself, which she did as the Cursebreaker and the first High Lady in centuries. Her mate, Rhysand, provides her with the support and partnership she always needed.

He told Feyre, when she asked him to intervene in Nesta marrying Isaac, that if it was love, he couldn’t talk sense into her. I really love this quote from him:

“We need hope as much as we need bread and meat,” he interrupted, his eyes clear for a rare moment. “We need hope, or else we cannot endure. So let her keep this hope, Feyre. Let her imagine a better life. A better world.”

Nesta's mate, Cassian, loves her unconditionally, especially during times when she feels undeserving of such love. Despite Nesta's deep-seated hatred for her father and his actions, his death impacts her profoundly. Despite all her resentment toward him, she is faced with the reflection of his love for her. Cassian doesn't see Nesta as flawed; rather, he sees someone who hasn't yet learned where to direct her strength and passion.

It's not surprising at all that the mate of Papa Archie's beloved daughter, his princess, is someone who can genuinely attest to his goodness and deep love for his daughters. This affirmation comes after he undertakes the quest of finding Vassa, a mission directly influenced by Elain's vision. It reflects Papa Archie's attentiveness to Elain's thoughts and desires, showcasing her father's ability to listen to her and include her in his plans and aspirations for the future.

Now, for the sisters themselves.

The dynamics between the sisters are evolving as they confront their long-held resentments towards each other, stemming from the failures of their parents.

This process is particularly evident with Elain in SF, where her arc seems poised to explore her transition from being perceived as just a "doll" to becoming someone whom their father treated as more than that. Elain's unresolved conflict with Nesta over the dread trove suggests that her book may delve deeply into this aspect, especially given the significance of the mask in HOFAS. Ember's parting words to Nesta about finding her own path resonate strongly, particularly in the context of Nesta's identity as Elain's protector.

Feyre's relationship with Elain appears more ambivalent, characterized by a sense of companionship rather than a deep bond. This sentiment is echoed in Rhys's criticisms about how Elain is treated, as seen in the bonus chapter.

Rhys raised a point that Elain might be afraid of disappointing Feyre, and it prompts speculation about its meaning. Could it be that Elain fears disappointing Feyre by rejecting the bond? However, considering it's Elain's bond, this interpretation seems perplexing. Alternatively, Elain may be aware that accepting the bond with Lucien could mean eventually leaving the Night Court, given Lucien's status as an heir. Such a decision might further fracture the notion of the sisters staying together, adding to Elain's apprehension about disappointing Feyre.

While Feyre and Nesta seem to have healed and strengthened their relationship, it remains unclear how Elain perceives her sisters and their protective tendencies towards her.

Their mother's toxic notion of them staying together contrasts sharply with their father's hope for them to create a better world, a dream for which he ultimately sacrificed his life. This suggests that staying together doesn't necessarily mean living under the same roof, and that sibling relationships can flourish when each member has their own pursuits.

Lastly, the deliberate withholding of their parents' names raises questions. Perhaps SJM is saving the revelation for a pivotal moment, similar to the unveiling of Aelin's identity in TOG.

I used to meme that SJM just doesn't provide names and yet in TOG, it shows just how much weight she actually gives them.

This could indicate that revealing their identities holds significant narrative weight and may contain spoilers crucial to the story's progression.

Thanks for asking!

#sorry anon but I have a lot of thoughts lol #elucien #feyre archeron #elain archeron #nesta archeron #acotar

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wantbytaemin · 3 months

Note

hiii ana 🥰 pretty please could I have a playlist? (it'll be nice and short 😂) ru 😘

of courseeee always my ru 🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

R - replay by shinee

U - U R by taeyeon (both the letters in one song hehe)

#this is going to be REAL cheesy i hope ur ready for my elaboration 🥲#i didn’t think i’d ever ever put replay by shinee in one of these playlists bc of everything that that song means to me #but i think it’s quite fitting for you honestly. and taeyeon’s song is one of my favorite love songs makes me feel warm and grand at once #and it’s just like.. you’ve been here for so long and i only have beautiful good memories/feelings related to you #so i hope u like it im sure you know these songs already sorry for not getting new stuff to listen to kdhskjf i just couldn’t help it 🫶🏻#ask game

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augustinewrites · 8 months

Text

“sunflowers or peonies?”

“awe, nanami! i’m flattered—”

“they’re not for you,” nanami says flatly. “you can buy your own.”

shoko squints down at the man lying on her exam table, arm held up and behind his head. “i’m quite literally stitching you back together, you know.”

the blond thinks bitterly on what had landed him in her infirmary in the first place, injured and likely having to reschedule dinner tonight. it’s already well past the time he’d planned on picking you up, and the table he’d reserved at the new restaurant in roppongi has likely been given away.

he’s dreading calling to tell you, his heart already twinging at the idea of letting you down.

shoko stitches him up neatly, cleaning and covering it up with a layer of bandages. she offers him a hand to help him sit up, but he bypasses it to plant his palm against the cot, pushing himself up with a groan.

she rolls her eyes, peeling her gloves off and pulling her mask down, tossing them both into the trash. “clean and dress it at least twice a day. no sudden movements of strenuous activity for at least a week. if you ruin my work, i’ll put you on bedrest.”

she digs through her cabinets as he awkwardly pulls his shirt back on. his mind drifts to you as he does so. he’d lost his phone in the fight, so he hadn’t been able to tell you about cancelling.

he wonders if the pout on your lips is painted your lips that shade of red you’d been wearing when he’d first met you. wonders if you’re waiting wearing the dress he’d gifted you last week.

he’d really wanted to see you in that dress.

nanami sighs heavily as he does up the buttons, prompting shoko to glance over her shoulder at him.

“what’s wrong with you?” she asks, setting a small bottle of painkillers on the tray table next to him.

“i’m missing an important dinner,” he grumbles, wondering if just a bundle sunflowers or peonies from the small stall outside is enough. he should order you a proper bouquet from a shop. perhaps he can also book you a massage or—

a knock at the door interrupts his spiralling.

“oh!” shoko suddenly gasps. she reaches up, brushing a few stray hairs from his forehead and fixing it as best she can.

“what are you doing?” he asks, genuinely confused in this moment.

“you’ll see,” she simply grins, sending him a wink. then, “come in!”

the door to the infirmary opens to reveal…you.

“kento,” you breathe, the quiet click of your heels echoing through the empty room as you quickly walk towards him.

he’s shocked, but lets you carefully wrap your arms around him, cradling his head against your chest.

but before he knows it he’s holding onto you too, breathing in the deep, sweet scent of your perfume and focusing on the steady beat of your heart.

“what are you doing here?” he asks once you finally release him, taking your hands in his.

“shoko called me,” you tell him. “apparently…apparently i’m your emergency contact.”

his face is suddenly hot with embarrassment. he’d honestly forgotten about that. he hadn’t even realized he’d done it when yaga had asked him to update his information with the school. your name had been the first and only name to pop into his mind.

“sorry,” he apologizes quickly, dropping your hands. he jumped the gun, didn’t he? you’ve only been dating for six months… “i should have asked you first but—”

but no one knows me better than you.

a soft sigh slips from your lips as you sit next to him, with a gaze so reverent that it strips him to the bone. “i love you, kento. i will be your emergency contact as long as you want me to be.”

he whispers the words back to you, suddenly shy.

sometimes nanami lets himself slip a little too far into his own head, overthinking and a little insecure. but you’re always there, ready to coax him back into the light.

“you look beautiful,” he murmurs, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. he’s seen you in a lot of dresses, each one making him weak in the knees. but this dress…this one makes it a little hard for him to breathe.

“well, you still owe me a date,” you tell him, helping him up off the cot. “we could go to the ramen place across from my apartment.”

he wraps an arm around your shoulders, and you reach up to intertwine your fingers with his. “i’d go anywhere with you.”

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk x reader #nanami fluff #jjk fluff

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swordsandholly · 2 months

Text

Double Date - Double Down

NSFW | MDNI

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.

A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.

“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.

Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“

“How do you know I’m free?”

“You just said you were!”

You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.

“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“

“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”

You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”

“Johnny’s friend will probably-“

“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”

“He won’t-“

“We got a deal?”

She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”

At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.

The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.

“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.

You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…

Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.

“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.

You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.

“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.

You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.

All in all, wayyyy out of your league.

He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”

You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.

“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.

Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.

He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”

“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.

“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.

“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”

Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.

You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.

“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.

She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”

In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.

“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”

He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”

“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”

His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”

You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”

“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”

You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”

He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”

Oh.

*Oh*.

You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”

He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”

Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.

“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”

“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?

“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”

You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.

“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”

“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.

He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.

“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.

“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”

“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.

Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.

“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.

He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”

“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”

“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.

The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?

“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.

“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”

Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”

“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”

“Apparently.”

His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.

Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.

“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.

“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.

You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.

His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.

“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.

Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”

“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”

He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”

“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”

“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.

“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”

“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”

“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”

“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”

“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.

“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.

How convenient.

“Okay.” You whisper.

After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.

At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.

It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”

“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.

Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.

“Simon!”

“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.

“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.

“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.

You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.

That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“Say it back, doll.”

“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.

“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.

You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”

Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.

“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.

His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”

Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.

Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.

“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.

“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.

He freezes, looking up at you.

“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“

Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”

All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.

“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.

“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”

The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.

“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.

Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”

Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”

“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.

You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.

“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.

“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.

Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-

“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.

Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”

“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.

For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.

“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.

You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.

“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.

You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.

“Good.”

It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.

You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.

Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.

When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.

“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.

Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”

“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.

He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.

It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.

By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.

Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”

“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.

You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”

“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.

“Are you a psycho?”

“Not generally, no.”

“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.

Simon just scoffs at you.

You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”

“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.

You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”

Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.

“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”

4K notes · View notes

cloudybarnes · 8 months

Text

Secret Admirer

Pairing: slytherin boys x reader

Summary: you never get mail in the morning, not until one day you receive a letter from an anonymous sender, a secret admirer. From that day forward, you’ve been getting letters, poems, and cute little notes each morning at breakfast. His words were sweet, and as you began to fall for them, your quest of figuring out who sent them only grew.

Word Count: 4.1k+

Masterlist

note: trying something new! basically I dont wanna spoil who her secret admirer is, so I’m gonna call it slytherin boys x reader hehe guess you’ll have to read til the end to see who sent her the letters ;)

✰ ✰ ✰

“Theodore Nott, I’m gonna kick your sorry ass!” You shouted.

You reached across the table in the great hall where Theo sat directly in front of you. He had stolen all of the bacon off of your breakfast plate and refused to give it up. Mornings were always quite hectic at the slytherin table, but this was downright unacceptable.

“Nope,” he smirked as he popped a piece into his mouth, “they were all out when I went up for breakfast. This bacon is mine now, sweetheart.”

You huffed, and sat back down in your seat. “You’re ridiculous. If you weren’t so damn late all the time, maybe you would have had some bacon of your own.”

“Here (Y/N),” Enzo smiled from his seat right next to you. “You can have some of my bacon.” He picked the best looking pieces and put them on your plate.

“Aw, Enzo!” You grinned as you picked a piece up and ate it happily. “This is why you're my best friend.”

“Hey!” Pansy shouted from the other side of you. “Thought I was your best friend.”

“You didn’t give up a piece of bacon for her,” Draco smirked, “you’ve been demoted.”

Mattheo gruffed. “Enzo, you’re kind of mean, you know that? (Y/N) complains she’s all out of bacon and you jump to give her a piece, but when I say I need someone to do my charms homework for me, you don’t even try to lift a finger.”

“Mattheo, how many times do I have to tell you,” Enzo said, “I’m never gonna do your homework. And it’s not fair to compare that to giving up a piece of bacon! I don't even like bacon all that much!”

“Dude!” Blaise gasped from next to Draco, “if you don’t like bacon you should have passed that down this way a long time ago.”

Pansy scoffed and shook her head. “I’m surrounded by idiots.”

“Hey,” you whined as you ate another piece of bacon, “I’m the least idiot of the bunch, right Pans?”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, (Y/N/N).”

You grinned, about to rebuttal when the morning owl dropped an envelope in front of you.

“What’s this?” You questioned as you picked it up.

“Uh, I think it’s quite obviously a letter, (Y/N/N).” Mattheo said as he stuffed his mouth full of bacon. “And, to think, you were trying to say you’re the least idiot of us.” He laughed.

“Oi,” Theo knocked his shoulder against Mattheo’s. “Leave her be. I’ve never seen her get a letter before, I’m curious.”

Draco shifted slightly in his seat. “Who’s it from, (Y/N/N)?”

“Nevermind who it’s from,” Blaise chuckled, “I wanna know what it says.”

“Why would you wanna know what it says and not know who it’s from?” Enzo asked, “That's like half the fun.”

You shrugged as you tore open the envelope. Opening the folds of the letter, your cheeks started to warm as you read what was inside.

“What is it?” Pansy asked as she leaned closer, trying to catch a glimpse.

“It says, uh,” you cleared your throat, a little bit flustered. “It says ‘people love to stare up at the stars, glimmering as they might in the night sky, yet everyone is too scared to enjoy the beauty that is the sun. you are my sun, and I would willingly go blind to catch even just a glimpse of you each day.’”

You friends all stared at you in shock. Draco, Blaise and Mattheo had their mouths hung open in shock. Enzo blushed a little bit, Theo had his eyebrows raised like he appreciated the words written on the page, and Pansy all but squealed as you read the letter.

“Oh my god, I think I’m going to combust,” Pansy swooned.

“Who’s it from?” Theo asked.

You shrugged, “I don’t know.” You flipped the letter to the back to see if it was signed at all. “It’s only signed with a heart.”

“That is so romantic!” Pansy squealed as she clasped her hands around your arm. “Our sweet (Y/N) has a secret admirer!”

“Wonder who it could be,” Draco said as he flicked his fingers in motion to hand him the letter.

You complied, and passed the note to him.

“I don’t know,” he said as he flipped it all around. “The handwriting sort of looks familiar.”

“Maybe it’s someone you know?” Theo suggested as he grabbed the letter from Draco’s hands. He took it upon himself to check it out a time or two before passing it to Mattheo’s eager grasp.

“I think it’s kind of funny,” Mattheo chuckled. “What if it’s some first year trying to make their move on you?”

You shuttered. “Merlin, I sure hope not. I honestly don’t think a first year would be able to write something so beautiful.”

“Yeah, no way,” Pansy shook her head. “Mattheo, you’re just jealous you weren’t the one who sent (Y/N) this letter. Maybe she’d give you a chance if you did something romantic, or just not annoying for once.”

“First,” Mattheo said, “ouch. Second, who says I’m not the one who wrote (Y/N) this love letter?”

“Mattheo, you wouldn’t know romance if it hit you with a ten foot pole.” Pansy said.

“Hey!” Mattheo complained. “Someone tell her I’m romantic.”

“Hell no,” Draco scoffed. “You’re ‘bout as romantic as bloody boil, mate.”

You laughed as Mattheo scrunched his face up. The bells chimed signaling the end of breakfast and the start of first class.

“I’m not too worried about it,” you said as you stood and started packing your stuff up. “It’s just a little letter. No harm in it.”

“But you don’t want to know who sent it?” Pansy asked as she grabbed her belongings as well.

You shrugged, “I don’t know yet. I’m not silly enough to expect something to come from this; it’s just a note. It could be a prank for all we know.”

“No one who writes like that is doing it as a prank,” Theo remarked.

“Well, still, whatever the reason may be, I’m not gonna go out looking for this person. No matter how sweet the words are.” You smiled, “I’m gonna head to class, bye guys.”

On your way to class, you couldn’t help but recite the words written in the letter. They had made your heart flutter, as stupid as that sounds. You slightly resented the way it made you feel as it was only a few measly words on paper, but the romantic part of you couldn’t help but want to know who was behind them.

✰ ✰ ✰

In your last class of the day, you finally were able to see your good friend Luna Lovegood. You had been waiting all morning to have class with her so you can inform her of the letter you received that morning.

“And it was just so poetic, Luna. No one has ever said anything like that about me before.”

She smiled at you as you mindlessly drew on your assignment. “I think it sounds quite lovely. Do you have any idea who it may be from?”

You shook your head. “No idea. I don’t even think I know anyone who writes, well, anything.”

“What about that boy Enzo you always hang out with?” Luna suggested. “I’ve got him in my literature class, he’s very talented.”

You thought to yourself for a second. Could it be possible Enzo was your secret admirer? You’d been friends for so long, and he’d always be especially kind to you.

Well, he’s especially kind to everyone, now that you think about it.

“I don’t know,” you honestly replied. “I guess I just never would have expected it to be one of my friends, let alone Enzo.”

“I wouldn’t rule out your group of friends,” Luna said with a smile, “it could really be any one of them.”

“You think so?”

“Well, maybe not all of them, but I think it could be a good place to start if you were wanting to figure out who it is.”

As you pondered over Luna’s words, Slughorn made it a point to reiterate there was no talking allowed during the assignment.

You rolled your eyes and got back to work, waiting for this class to be over so you could finally figure out who wrote you the letter.

✰ ✰ ✰

Back in the common room you saw Pansy, Draco, and Enzo sitting on the couches.

“Hey, (Y/N/N)!” Pansy smiled as she scooted over and patted the spot next to her. “Find out anything new about your secret admirer?”

You smiled with a roll of your eyes as you sat with her. You kicked your shoes off and folded your legs under your body. “No, but I think I’ve got an idea brewing of how to find them.”

“Oh,” Draco smirked from the couch across from you. He folded his arms over his chest, “do tell, (Y/N), I’m very curious to see who it could be.”

You shook your head, teasingly, “not a chance, Malfoy. I’m not giving up my secrets til I get to the bottom of this thing.”

Draco raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, doll, if you wanna be secretive about your already secret admirer, I respect it.”

Enzo shifted in his seat a little uncomfortably. “It’s kind of strange though that they went out of their way to write something to you but kept it a secret. It just makes me a little apprehensive.”

“Oh, chill out, scaredy cat,” Pansy said. “(Y/N) will be fine, and if it’s someone weird at least she’s got us to look out for her.”

You grinned and wrapped your arms around Pansy’s neck. “Quit getting all sweet on me, Pans.”

She chuckled and playfully pushed you away. “Yeah, yeah. I’m not getting sweet, don’t get it twisted.”

You chuckled. “I think I’m gonna head up, got lots of scheming to get to,” you teased with a wiggle of your eyebrows.

You stood up from the couch and Pansy stood with you. “Farewell, boys, it’s been awful as usual.” She said with a smirk.

“Thank Salazar you’re leaving,” Draco said to her. “Your presence was such a nuisance.”

Pansy snarled at him and dramatically turned away to head up the stairs. You and Enzo shared a short laugh before you followed her up the stairs to your shared bedroom.

✰ ✰ ✰

The next morning, you were last to the dining hall for breakfast.

“Finally, she makes it,” Mattheo called out before taking a swig of his orange juice.

You huff and settle into your seat between Enzo and Pansy. “I know, I overslept something horrible this morning.”

Since you were so late, the kitchen staff had already stopped serving breakfast meaning you were going without this morning.

Theo glanced at you from across the table and pushed his plate towards you. “Here,” he said, “take anything you want.”

You looked down at saw scrambled eggs, french toast, and sausage links on his plate.

“Really?” You grinned as you grabbed a sausage link from his plate.

Theo nodded, “yeah, can’t have you go without eating. Lord only knows what a monster you can be without food.” He teased with a small smirk.

You crinkled your nose up at his and grabbed a piece of french toast as well. “I’m gonna let that slide since you were nice enough to give up your breakfast. Don’t make me regret my kindness.”

Theo chuckled and pulled his plate back to him, glancing up at you before delving back into his plate.

Mattheo tried to reach his hand over to Theo’s plate but was met with a slap on the wrist.

“Ow!” Mattheo said as he cradled his wrist in fake hurt. “Theo, how could you? I thought we had something special.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “You got more food on your plate then the rest of us combined. I think you’ll be alright.”

You chuckled, but a thought crept into your mind. “Hey, guys, uh, did the post come today?” You asked.

Draco raised his eyebrow with a smirk. “Waiting for another letter, are we?”

Your face burned as you shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t know. I kinda wanna get to the bottom of who it is.”

“You’ll find ‘em, (Y/N/N),” Pansy said, “even if I have to interrogate everyone we know. We’ll get down to the bottom of it.”

Just as she said that, the morning owl came swooping down towards you and dropped a small slip of paper in front of you.

Draco smirked, “Looks like someone really wants your attention, (Y/N/N).”

You tried to hold back your smile as you unfolded the small post it note.

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you read out to them, “'I love to see you smile, especially when you’re smiling at me.’ Aw, that’s kind of sweet, actually.”

“Don’t tell me you’re starting to get sweet for this mystery man,” Blaise interrupts.

You shrug as you fold the note back up. “I don’t know, it is pretty sweet, no? And this must mean it’s someone I know personally because they said I smile at them.”

“Oh Godric,” Mattheo grinned, “you’ve fallen for a mystery man.”

“No I haven’t!” You protest. “I just think it’s sweet and now I know it’s someone I’m friends with and not some creepy first year.”

“Wait,” Theo said, “how do you know it’s someone you’re friends with?”

“Because it says I smile at them,” you said obviously. “Who else do I smile at?”

“(Y/N), I hate to break it to you,” Pansy said as she placed a hand on your shoulder, “but you’re the most smiley slytherin I’ve ever met.”

You shrugged off her hand with a fake glare. “Hey! Give me some credit, I can be bad sometimes.”

Enzo chuckled, this is the first time he spoke all conversation. “You’re too sweet to be bad, (Y/N/N).”

You grinned and playfully bumped your shoulder against his. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I just know it’s someone I know. I can feel it. It’s not some random person, it can’t be.”

The bell rang, signaling the end of breakfast. You and your friends stood up to leave. You couldn’t help but think about the notes you received, pondering on who it could possibly be.

✰ ✰ ✰

“Post is running late this morning,” Draco noted as the clock struck 8:26 with no sight of the morning owl.

You were a tad disappointed. You had pondered all day yesterday about who it could be. You’ve narrowed it down quite a bit, and you think Luna may be on to something. While you don’t exactly think for sure that it’s Enzo, you do think you’ve narrowed it down to your group of close friends.

You really just can’t see anyone else knowing you well enough to be this fascinated with you. The only one out of your friend group that you completely had ruled out is Blaise.

Blaise was definitely out because out of the whole friend group, he was the least close with you. Frankly, you guys just don’t talk nearly as much as you talk to the rest of them.

“Great,” Mattheo gruffed, “how will I be entertained this morning without (Y/N)‘s secret stalker and his confession of love.”

Okay, maybe Mattheo was out too.

“Oi,” Theo piped up. “Don’t knock it too hard, (Y/N) seems to be enjoying herself with the letters.”

You blushed a little as you shrugged. “I don’t want to seem weird by how invested I am in it, but I just think it’s sweet. No one’s ever really expressed this kind of feeling for me, so… you know,” you shrugged awkwardly, your face definitely beet red by now.

“Well I for one am extremely invested in this,” Pansy said. “I’m lowkey jealous that I’m not the one with a secret admirer. What I wouldn’t give for someone to think of me that way.”

“Maybe someday someone will like you, Pansy,” Enzo said reassuringly.

“We might all be dead by the time that happens, but who knows, it might happen,” Mattheo said.

Pansy gasped with a glare. “Wow what crawled up your ass this morning?”

Mattheo shrugged and focused his attention back to his breakfast plate.

“Anyway,” Draco said, “I’m intrigued as well. I think I’ve got an idea who it could be, but I'm not quite positive.”

You parked up at that. “Really? Who’s your guess?”

Draco smirked, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He teased.

You glared at him, “Malfoy, if you know who it is you better spill.”

“I’m not saying I know who it is, I’m just saying I have a hunch at who it may be.”

“Oh!” Enzo exclaims as he points up in the air, “here comes the owl.”

You grin in anticipation as the owl drops a little note down in front of you. It was a larger note than yesterday, but this time it didn’t have something sweet written on it.

It had a clue.

“It just says ‘being your friend is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, though I’d be lying if I said i didn’t want to be more.’” You read.

“So it is one of you!” Pansy shouted as she pointed her finger towards everyone at the table.

Draco smirked, “that was my hunch. ‘Had a feeling it was one of these blokes.”

“And who says it’s not you, Malfoy?” Mattheo questioned with a raise of his brow.

“Please,” Draco scoffed, “if I wanted to woo (Y/N) she’d be mine by now.”

“Oh big talk from down that end,” Pansy rolled her eyes.

“I could get anyone I want,” Draco puffed his chest. “I don’t need to be anonymous to do so.”

“Hey, don’t hate on my letters, Draco.” You complained. “Least they got the balls to say something.”

“Barely counts as having balls when they won’t even say who they are.” Mattheo countered.

You huffed as your table fell into somewhat of a silence. Conversations picked up without you as your thoughts trailed off.

Theo had been extremely quiet this entire time. While he was never the chatter bug, it was odd having gone almost the entire breakfast without hearing from him.

As everyone else was engaged in conversation, you stared at the boy sitting across from you. His head was down as he played with his breakfast, pushing it around with his fork.

You lightly kicked his leg under the table.

Theo’s head perked up. His eyes stared into yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t remember what you wanted to say to the boy.

His eyebrow raised in question as a small smirk glazed his lips.

You blushed a little. “I-uh just wanted to see if you were alright. You didn’t really say too much the whole time we’ve been here.”

Theo shrugged as his smile dropped. “yeah, just don’t got too much input.”

Your heart swelled. You really had turned each morning to revolve around you and your secret pen pal.

“Sorry, Theo. I didn't mean to annoy you with all my talk of the letters.”

He shook his head. “You could never annoy me, doll.”

Your heart beat like crazy.

“Still, though, I feel bad about how much I’ve put into this. Let’s talk about something else.” You offered, “how’s class going?”

Theo chuckled and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “Shit. I’m drowning in assignments and got two quizzes coming up that I’m just not ready for.”

The bell rang.

Theo groaned. “Got one next class. I think I might skip, though. Give myself some more time to prepare for it.”

As everyone started walking out of the dining hall, you grabbed Theo’s arm and pulled him back.

His eyes widened slightly, but quickly reverted back to normal.

“Maybe I‘ll skip with you,” you said, “if you’ll have me, that is. I can help you study. What class is it?”

Theo hesitated. “It’s, uh, herbology. ‘m not very good with plants and all that.”

You grinned, “I can help! I’m not too bad with flowers and plants.”

Theo nodded, “yeah, I could really use the help.”

“Okay, you wanna go to the library then?”

Theo shook his head. “I’ve got a good spot. Come on.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you with him.

You followed him all the way out to the courtyard towards the opposite end of the school. You walked until you reach a large bench with intricate designs on the backing and arm rests.

Theo took a seat. “Figured this would be good as any. Least now we can look at some plants up close, eh?”

You chuckled and took a seat next to him. “Yeah, sounds great, Theo. You got your textbook?”

He nodded and dug through his bag to pull it out. Once he handed it to you, you started flipping through the pages to get to the important material.

“I’ve got the herbology exam 4th period, so I can help you study and it’ll help me study too! Win, win.”

Theo grinned and ran a hand through his hair. “Sounds good, doll.”

Your cheeks blushed. You couldn’t help the smile that graced your face. “I like when you call me doll.”

Your smile dropped. “Oh, geez, I did not mean to say that out loud.”

Theo’s face remained blank. That just made you more nervous.

“Great, now I’ve weirded you out.” You exasperated. “I’m really sorry, Theo, I didn’t mean to-“

“I’m not weirded out, doll.” He cut you off. “Was just a little stunned is all. Didn’t expect you to say something like that.”

You thought your face couldn’t get any hotter than it already was, but somehow it did.

“Well, still,” you mumbled as you looked down at the textbook again, “sorry.”

Theo sat for a minute, watching as you flipped through the book. Your eyebrows furrowed a little in aggravation. You were annoyed at yourself for how stupid you were being. It was Theo for Salazar sake.

Though, you couldn’t help but admire the boy. He was gorgeous, for one, but he was also charming and witty. He was sweet and generous. You couldn’t deny you were attracted to him, but you had never thought he would see you in the same light.

“(Y/N)?” Theo called.

You looked up into his eyes.

Theo stared at you, taking in each one of your features. Your eyes, your lips, your nose. You shifted a little, way too aware of his gaze on you.

“Theo?” You called back. His gaze shifted back to your eyes.

Before you could say anything, he softly spoke, “I’m the one sending you those letters, (Y/N/N).”

You stared at him in shock.

No way.

“Y-you’re the one who wrote me the letters?”

He slowly nodded his head. Theo’s lip was drawn in between his teeth. “Is, uh, are you disappointed?”

“What?” you exclaimed.

He shrugged, “I mean, you just really seemed to like the letters, and I know you wanted to know who it was, so I just hope I haven’t disappointed you in the revelation.”

You shook your head. “Actually, it’s quite the opposite.”

Theo’s head shot up to look at you. “Really?”

You smiled and nodded. “Mhm, I like you Theo. I have for a while now, actually, I just thought you’d never give a chance.”

He laughed. “You thought I’d never give you a chance? I thought you’d never give me a chance.”

You laughed loudly together. When it finally subsided to quiet chuckles, you said, “I really like you, Theo.”

Theo’s smile grew. In a quick moment, he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss.

You gasped against his lips, and wrapped your arms around his neck as you kissed him back. His textbook fell off your lap as he pulled you closer by the waist.

You kissed him until you couldn’t kiss anymore. Finally pulling back, Theo’s grin was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, even with his lips a little puffy from your kiss.

“I really like you, Theodore.”

He grinned, “I really like you, more (Y/N).”

9K notes · View notes

hoseoksluna · 3 months

Text

LIQUID STARS | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. bam)

genre: angst, smut

word count: 11.8k

summary: to seal the deal, you give jungkook what he wants—your kiss, your cunt and your virginity.

playlist: liquid stars / pinterest board: wine

warnings: size kink, heavy dd/lg themes, provocation, dry humping, dirty talk, mentions of porn, oral sex (f. + m. receiving), multiple orgasms & countdown, dom/sub dynamics, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), first time, jealousy, inner child healing, plushie used during intercourse, jungkook fucks her numb & dumb, praise kink, cum eating, pet names and the establishment of a title, bondage, raw sex, tummy bulge, desperation, pain felt during intercourse, squirting

note: as difficult as it was to write this, i'm immensely thankful. this changed my life; it healed me and i'll dream about it for a long, long time. i was as exhausted as oc once i finished this, because i truly did give my all. everyone, this is part four to my series 'wine' and therefore the very end. this is the very beginning of jungkook's and oc's relationship. can be read as a standalone as there aren't any quirks from the other parts (except for bunny), though if you wish to read them now, now is the perfect time. now you can see the beautiful gradual development of their relationship. please, enjoy as you read and let me know your favorite parts bc i need to talk about this. heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that can be uncomfortable for some. thank you! and thank you for all the love on this series. i'll never forget it. i love you, guys. ʚɞ

side note: give some round of applause for 3D daddy provider jungkook everyone!! he deserves it!!!

Silky lilac bows adorn the tops of your pigtails that cascade down in loose braids, sprawled on the cotton of his pillow and on the soft belly of a bunny plushie. There are still traces of sunlight left on the bedding, which dissolve, little by little, into nothingness as the large star goes down, saying goodbye. It’s lightweight, the atmosphere—homely almost. And much to your surprise, you feel relatively at ease, despite the fact a man lies on top of you—a man you have a certain liking for.

It was natural for you to end up here and you, yourself, wished for it, even. Deemed it was only right after the man took you around for a walk while his silly Doberman guarded each and every step both of you had taken in sync, especially so when he persisted in buying you a small plastic ring of the same bunny you’re lying against. He didn’t even forget about his own canine friend waiting outside patiently like the obedient dog he is, and fed him the snackies he got for him as soon as he returned from the shop. You swore Bam was as giddy as you when he received his gift.

Now the ring glints in the last rays of the sun. His, too.

While yours is as white as the cloudy morning sky, Jungkook’s is as black as the drowsily dozing night sky. You think it’s the perfect contrast between the pair of you. Not that you should be noting these things, considering you’re just friends. But his skin is satiny soft, painted in impressionist tattoos, while his muscles, that his well-fitted T-shirt graciously allows you to see, are strong. You’re sure he could just lift you and throw you around without much of a strain. And it certainly doesn’t help that he’s such a striking image of pure beauty. How could you not notice these intertwinings when they’re this lovely?

You like him—without a shadow of doubt. Can feel the call of an emotional attachment forming the more he studies your skin with the tip of his index finger, embellished with the Miffy ring, and it’s owed to the fact you’ve never been touched this way before. No one has ever come this close, no one has ever been interested in the moles scattered upon your shoulders, in the veins that make the pathway to the column of your neck. No one has ever gazed twice at them—but Jungkook?

He hasn’t stopped looking at them ever since he laid you down in the middle of his bed.

How could you stop such a call? Such a lull, such a magnetic pull. You know you should, but for the meantime, you simply don’t want to. Can’t lose this moment, can’t lose this once in a lifetime opportunity—

Jungkook presses his lips against the prominent mole in the center of your left shoulder. Those pretty, puffy lips, closing against your skin, the smallest dart of tongue swiping past. It shocks you for a moment before the feeling dissolves beneath, adjusting within the freshness of your system. How could you refuse such dynamic poetry, expressed against your own forlorn body? When it’s so blatant that it’s natural, that your body willingly accepts it without a fight.

You couldn’t.

Stretching your fingers between the thick strands of his hair, you close your eyes to savor the feeling of being wanted. The movement of his mouth, going even as far as to the first vein rooted in your arm—following it with those half-closed pillows. Up, up until he finds the line of your collarbone. Jungkook pauses there, simply breathes against you before he interperses little pecks there, nibbles and gentle swipes of tongue. The lining of your top won’t let him go further down, so he changes direction—relies on the pathway of your veins to guide him to your neck. And there… at the first contact, you grip the roots of his hair.

His kisses and nibbles are much harder here. And what’s worse, he takes the sensitive skin into his mouth and sucks. You fail at containing the whimpers that break out of your mouth and Jungkook reacts to them. Hums ever so deeply, rocks his hips against the mattress. You wish you were a bit bigger so you could feel the collision, but you’re just so small compared to his large form. You imagine he’s writing down the poems collecting inside of him with each cursive roll of his tongue. Wonder if there’s enough paper on your skin for all his words.

“You sweet little thing,” Jungkook coos onto the crook of your neck, dragging his lips up and down before he stops at your jaw. You feel the warmth of his breath and his body heat seeps into yours, creating unity, blackening the ink. It feels strange, it feels so new. Brisk and springlike, like fresh air in a stuffed room. You want to stay here for a long time, tasting the wholeness of spring captured in him. You want his words to flush you red with the tinge of the entire sunlight that opens the buds of flowers during all seasons in a loop. “Can I kiss you?”

You haven’t gone beyond the innocent touching of hands with him. You brim with a tight feeling of thankfulness that he asked you such a graceful question, although something else steals your attention entirely.

“Little?” you say, the smile on your lips pulled so taut that it quivers ever so slightly. It makes you crazy that he calls you that, but you play the game. Revel in it. “What do you mean little? I’m bigger than you.”

Jungkook cocks his brow at you, mouth falling into a lopsided grin. He sits back and you feel a whiff of coldness pass by the perimeter of your body, as if someone opened the window and let the winter air in, when it’s just his brief distance that caused it. The forming attachment in you tenses and before you can think about your actions, your hand finds his knee, his thigh and traces slow patterns there. Jungkook suddenly squeezes your waist, surprising you, and the ecstatic fluttering of butterfly wings break havoc all over your body. The solidness of his hands, their weight, their firmness, giving life to your body, meaning. You note how his fingers touch when he has his hands enveloped around you like that. And the inkling that your body matters in his hands like that slips into your mind, spreading through its axis.

You bite your lower lip. A small ache begins to grow in your intimate parts. It’s so nice to be wanted, to be considered good enough to be touched, to be kissed.

“You? Bigger than me?” Jungkook squeezes your waist again. Sucks in a breath through his teeth. Smiles softly; in a way that you find unbearably endearing. “No, you’re just little. Just a tiny, little bug. So tiny in my hands.”

For the breath he inhaled, you exhale it.

He leaves his hands there when he bends over you, hovering his lips over yours. His weight, his heat. You sigh against him in relief, in a newly blossoming excitement that he’s back again. You spread your legs wider, feet grazing his calves—

“Let me kiss you, please.”

You’d give in, but the game is just so pleasurable.

Your laugh is but a breath. “You wanna kiss me?”

You exhaled, he inhaled.

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Since when do friends kiss?” You cock your eyebrow at him just like he did, prodding your tongue on the inside of your cheek.

He hovers a little bit higher above you, hanging his head in defeat, sighing. Places his hands in fists on either side of you, caging you in.

“Premium friends do,” he mutters, lifting his head, face all serious. You dig your toe into the toned muscle of his thigh, twirling sweet little circles, gliding up and down. Watch as his eyes lid and he tries to control it. “Don’t do that or I’ll fuck you.”

Your body panics, but you will it to relax.

“Does that come with the premium subscription?”

Jungkook purses his lips, supports his weight on one hand as the other, the tattooed one, grips your jaw. He squishes your cheeks, bites his lip once—seemingly ponders whether he should play your game or not before he lets go of your pout, but still keeps his hand there. He traces the shape of your lips with this thumb, feeding his desire to kiss you with scraps.

“Yes,” he utters. “Kisses, orgasms, my dog. It’s all—”

Orgasms, not just sex. Orgasms.

“I get to take Bam?”

Jungkook tuts at you. “You get to take me,” he corrects you. “Though, can even such a little thing like you take me?”

Probably not. Definitely not.

“But what about Bam?”

He looks at you as if he couldn’t believe the words you’re saying, turning his head slightly to hear you better. Then, he scoffs, running his tongue across his lips swiftly, letting them express the enjoyment of your provocation by stretching into a smirk. He places his hand back on the right side of you, thinking over his words.

“Bam is mine, but you can pet him. You can kiss him.” You can hear the feigned venom in that word as he spits it and you grin, pleased with yourself. You enjoy doing this to him. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you take him out for his walkies.”

You gasp slowly, fingers absentmindedly gripping his thigh. Butterflies buzz you with a mere hint of arousal and to convey it, you wet your top lip with the tip of your tongue. The dominance, the principle of proving to him whether you’re deserving of something. Your heartbeat quickens, reaching for him with each swell.

Oh, you’ll be good. You’ll be good until he’s sick of it.

It seems he’s as pleased with himself as you were with yourself, reading your body language as he beams down at you, dimples poking holes in his cheeks. You want to stick your fingers there, pinch the skin at the corners of his mouth. Feel them, kiss them—

“Deal.”

Jungkook blinks at you. He most likely expected you to be difficult. You like the look of surprise on him. A sweet kind of glint perches itself upon his irises. You’re at awe of how he manages to be so adorable and alluring at the same time. You could never understand it. You deem he must be otherworldly.

“A kiss to seal the deal?” he tries, raising his brows, lowering himself to his elbows.

He skims his lips across your cheek, descending to your neck. Places one, singular kiss there. Lifts his head to hear your answer, a soft curtain of hair falling across his forehead.

You make a face as if you’re thinking about it.

Jungkook groans.

It’s cold, the way he turns away from you and it startles you—but then he slides his hands under your back and lifts you with ease, sitting you down on his lap. He moves you from the muscles on his thighs to the hardness of his intimate parts and you groan at the feeling of it. You’re wearing an airy short skirt with tights and knee socks underneath, the barrier so thin that you feel the solid, thick shape of him right under your femininity.

You rock against him once. Jungkook lets out a sound akin to yours, fingers flexing—hands almost reaching for your behind before he decides against it and keeps them planted against your back.

He desires your consent. And that makes you feel light-headed. Tipsy on the wholeness of him, on the pleasure coursing through your body.

You rock your hips again—and this time, Jungkook whimpers.

You take your hands and, slowly, you make a pathway down his chiseled chest. He twitches against you when your fingers pass by his nipples, his body following and squirming along. And once you reach the definition of his abdomen, your hands rise and fall against its quickening movement as his lungs heave. You’re mesmerized by his reaction to your touch. It’s as if it was his first time as well and something about that makes you woozy, savage and absolutely feline.

And something about the way you’re allowed to do as you please, whereas he’s not, strengthens that state of mind, enriches it, thoroughly worsens it.

You want him.

It began with a ring and ended right here.

And the process of your decision starts at his hips, finalizes at the pebbles of his nipples and finishes completely at the sides of his neck. He gives you the same, if not better, reaction, his manhood moving against you, and it’s settled.

The giving of virginity to seal the deal, not just a kiss.

Hovering your lips against his, you slip your hand to the place where you’re connected to feel up the shape of him. You moan onto him, vigorous power seizing you, propelling you to wrap your fingers around him. The breaths Jungkook emits are desperate, tortured, wafting over you, intoxicating you. It fills you with confidence unlike any other that you’re able to coax such a thing of beauty out of him—that you, the artist, have the upper hand momentarily while he doesn’t.

And he waits, depends on you. You want to cry due to how happy it makes you, due to the way it suffuses an empty part of you, left abandoned by someone who should’ve taken care of it a long, long time ago.

Because of that—if it’s kisses that he wants, you’ll give him as many as his body desires as a thank you.

“You’re so hard against me,” you whisper.

Jungkook grips your waist hard.

“If you want it, you have to seal the deal,” he mimics your intonation, voice deep, tingling your tummy.

“I want it.” You clutch both of your hands on his jawline, thumbs finding the invisible dimples.

“Kiss me, then.”

You whimper at the longing to do so. Your tummy clenches, butterflies inside swarm around and—

When you close your lips against his top lip, they burst into smithereens. Jungkook sighs in relief, enveloping you in his warmth.

The kiss is hungry. You expected his first taste of you to be careful, contemplative, but he goes all in. Takes charge of the lip lock, swallowing you whole, moving against you, uttering low sounds that make your head spin and you just comply. Accept that you’re the one who submits to his craving and you find yourself liking it; find yourself wanting to deepen your submission.

You wrap your legs around his waist, your head tilted as you reciprocate all of those hard kisses. When he comes up for air, he just gazes down at you, out of breath. One hand still on your back, the other cradles your cheek. There’s something puzzling in his eyes, as if he was fighting something within. You’re radiated by that energy, heavied down by it, letting him pet you like a puppy while you wait for the next step.

“You’re so good that I’m considering letting you take Bam out,” he breathes, curling a wisp of your hair behind your ear. “Sweet little thing.”

He pecks you once. You grind against his manhood and as he shortly groans onto your mouth, you splutter into giggles. Behind you, as if he heard him, the dog peeks his head out of the door, giving his Daddy a questioning look. Jungkook chuckles.

“Bam, house.”

The dog leaves and Jungkook sinks his fingers into your hair, sighing. Kisses you, again without tongue—only does what you’ve allowed him, but you overflow with the desire for more. He’s so considerate, so respectful and while you’re grateful for it, you want to break it. Your trust in him, made whole by all that he’s done for you, settled within you, made a bed in the sensitive parts of you that now shine. He doesn’t need to remain there—you want to go beyond that.

“Touch me, please.” You look up into his eyes as you say it, willing them to see with all your energy how much you want him.

He rubs soothing circles on your back. “If I touch you, I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.”

You lift your butt ever so slightly and bounce down on him, your skirt furling. Jungkook moans, pleasing you to the core. It’s bratty of you, but it serves him right for being so stubborn, so firm in his control. You want to break him.

“Can’t you see how much I want that?” you purr, bunching the cotton of his T-shirt in your fists.

He merely shakes his head, licking his lower lip, fucking with you. He tugs on one of your braided pigtail, the other hand gliding to your hipbone. “This little girl is horny? I couldn’t tell.”

A yellow light, sleepy in nature, spills through the blinds, latching onto the side of your neck. His eyes flick to it and his teeth sink into the wetness of his lip. He looks back at you when he says, “what was it that made you horny? The neck kisses?”

He straps both of his hands to your hipbones now, adjusting you so your sweetest spot rests against his cock, rocking your hips like he wants them to. He swallows down his noises, makes room for yours. You figure he wants to hear them.

You think about what made you horny. His respectful behavior. An electric spark spasms in your core at the memory and you roll your body against his at the impact—nipples pebbled, grazing below the hardness of his pecks. You moan loudly. He breathes heavily, can’t for the life of him contain that, gripping you with strength that will surely leave bruises. You add it to the list.

His control—the momentary, delicious lack of it, too. The dominance that follows it. His noises and how unrestrained he is when it comes to them. The allure and the attractive charm of his looks, blended with that insufferable cutesiness. His hard cock. The neck kisses, too, of course.

You summarize your answer and you tell him, “you.”

A hitch in his throat. “Fuck.”

Fuck, indeed. Fuck the steady rhythm—Jungkook speeds up your movement, the pace so fast your pigtails and your ribbons bounce, tits following suit. Your breath falls in step, moans echo within the walls of his room. He kisses you harshly, but that doesn’t silence you. He swallows your noises down, grunting.

“You wanna know what made me hard for you?”

You nod your head, lips forming a natural pout at the loss of contact.

“Those fucking pigtails of yours. The knee socks. How tiny you are in my hands. Seeing you lose your fucking mind when I kissed your neck. Those marks I left behind, hm, fuck yes. Those marks made me crazy,” he mutters, staring you down. “And you know what else?”

You wait for his answer as white flashes blind you, your roaring orgasm beckoning you close. He doesn’t stop rocking you against him, not once. Fills your brain with emptiness with his words coated wet by his dominant energy. You feel your own wetness soaking the fabric of your panties.

“Your brattiness,” he says. “I want to fuck it out of you and make a good girl out of you that won’t misbehave again with her smart words.”

A faint part of you, half affected by the pleasure he gives you, arises to stand up for you. “But I was good and you said so.”

He clicks his tongue, disapprovingly shaking his head. Slows down the pace so you’re able to hear him loud and clear, your orgasm backing away. “You see the thing is with little bratty girls like you, even when they act good for me, there’s still that dark little side of them that hides. Unless I fuck it out of them, they play with me. And trust me, I like the game until I don’t.”

You frown at him, but a moan betrays you. A fight throngs inside of you, his dominance yet again permeating you, causing you to flourish, but on the other hand, you don’t like being added to the mix. You want to be the only one—and it makes you angry that he had someone like you before you, that he even said it altogether. Though unfortunately, that’s something you can only keep to yourself.

The forming attachment breaks, splitting into two, with the knowledge that your wish is futile. You understand he said it for the sake of the role-play that you both naturally, wordlessly established through sexual attraction, but you still have a lot of getting used to within the dynamic. He’s experienced, you’re not. Though, when you think about it, he doesn’t know a thing about your purity. You never told him.

You blame yourself for your own pain. It’s your fault—you should’ve had a conversation with him about it before you let him do anything to you, instead of playing flirty games with him. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt, if he knew you were a virgin. The thought of what you’ve done stains you, makes you feel filthy, but you will it to kneel inside of you like a wounded animal. You need to be strong if you don’t want to storm out of his room in tears.

No attachment, no liking.

Just sex.

There’s still a frown to your face, despite the fact you set yourself free with your decision. Jungkook chuckles at it, oblivious to your internal storm.

“You didn’t like that, did you?” You didn’t like being compared to other girls he’d been with; there’s nothing to be said of the like about the role-play aspect. Being called bratty did rouse a moan out of you. “You prove my words right.”

You roll your eyes. Jungkook grips your ass hard and spanks you. As the sting reverberates, along with it comes the realization you got what you wanted.

You broke him.

And now you have to face the repercussions.

Good thing you’ve sobered up from the stupefaction of your arousal.

You cradle his face and kiss him deeply in effort to change the narrative. No feeling of affection from earlier hangs upon your heart and you find that it’s easier like this. No strings, no pain. It relieves you—so much that you sense a layer of lightness to your body and tiny, manageable tears well in your eyes. You get to enjoy this after all.

There’s radiance to your eyes, rooted in hope, and true softness to your words when you say, “I want you to fuck it out of me. I want you to be my first.”

You want to be different—your pride is uninfluenced by your decision. If he fucks it out of you, the new narrative you’re longing for will fully take place and make living through this bearable. You know you can’t have him the way you’d like, but if fate wrote that you’re to have him this way—you don’t mind altering it to the little desires you’re allowing yourself to have.

Once in a lifetime opportunity. You can’t lose it.

Jungkook is left astounded by your words, eyes widening, shock evident on his features. Like your words, he softens, unclenching his fingers from your suppleness, the darkness in his irises making a way for gentleness to come through. He rubs the small of your back, hands ascending to your spine, feeling the clip of your bra, until he finds the nape of your neck. He holds you there, tenderly, as if you were a porcelain doll he now was careful not to break.

The change in his demeanor is stark. It surprises you as well—and like everything that has happened within the hour, it isn’t something you expected from him. The emotion that emerges from the roundness of his eyes touches the hardness of your decision, tries to get through, pokes a gap inside, letting the light in.

He tucks his darkness back inside. Strokes the back of your head, the silky ends of your ribbons sifting through his slender fingers. You relax against him and your body does it for you. It welcomes his tenderness, glad for the truth to be out. You fight against it—against yourself, willing your decision not to break but remain firm.

No strings, no pain.

But to no avail. The light spreads. His light. Celestial twinkles of stars, small parts of him that make him who he is.

“You’ve never had anyone before me?” he husks, regret glossing over his eyes, holding your head firmly as he awaits your answer. More stars spill like liquid.

You shake your head ‘no’, your chest tightening.

He kisses you and there’s something different about the way he does it. Now you can sense the carefulness you searched for earlier and you taste the primal core of loving care in the movement of his lips. The kisses are long, deep. As if you’re a different person now, a girl unlike any of the ones he mentioned. Someone who matters, someone who’s solid. You’re back at the beginning.

A lump forms in your throat.

“You sure about this?” he asks.

One part of you, greater and illuminated by his stars, wants it gently like this, with flowers of innocence and purity besprinkled across his features, never leaving you out of his sight, taking care of you. But you fear that if you allow him to be tender, your heart will choose him again and cling to his side. The other, more faint part of you, affected by your decision, thinks it’s better to stick to the role-play, for there’s the aspect of illusoriness that will not bruise anyone’s hearts, especially not yours. It will make you horny, Jungkook will get you off and, glowing, you’ll go home.

You can’t decide. It’s too much of a heavy weight to bear on your shoulders. You can’t do it.

You need him to say the word. You need him to decide what will be the face of the trajectory of your premium friendship.

Flowery or deceitful?

A small candlelight in you hopes for gentleness and purity before your fear unfairly puffs it out.

“Yes, I’m sure. I want you.”

Jungkook lays you down and, at last, you feel his manhood against you. He bends to pepper apologetic kisses along the column of your neck and you feel the authenticity of his regret, thrumming against you warmly. Your breath hitches in your throat, the principle of the candlelight in you not being a high hope after all—

“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone about this better.” A kiss to your cheek; you stifle your sobs. “I should’ve checked in with you, but I jumped straight in. This was a mistake on my part. I’m sorry.”

He blames himself, not you.

You want to remain stoic, but his authenticity beckons yours to come out and envelop him whole, gives access to your emotions and you can’t stop the miniature teardrop from flowing down the side of your nose. Neither can you stop the words that follow its footsteps.

“I should’ve told you first,” you whisper, sniffling. Jungkook furrows his brows at the expression of your pain in tender emotion, wiping it away. “But I was bad—reckless.”

He chuckles softly, caressing your hair. “You’re an angel. Sent to my side for me. You weren’t bad. I didn’t mean what I'd said.”

His words, his touch, the kiss he adds to your cheek to punctuate his sentence—Jungkook erases everything that has just happened.

Newness rushes in your chest, the pouring of spring into summer permeates your whole being. You hear the birds sing, the rustle of flimsy flower petals on tree branches as the warm wind grazes it with its touch. Jungkook seals this feeling by pressing a kiss to your sternum.

He said it, so it must be so. You trust him.

The firmness of the cage around your decision unlatches. Doesn’t fly away like the birds. Is a little bit afraid of peeking out. The candlelight returns to light up the room around that cage, blossoming into the sun.

“We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to,” he says, looking up at you from the place where he dragged your top down to kiss your skin.

The sun rays in you absorb all of the darkness. The firmness extends one wing.

You run your fingers through his hair. Figure the only thing the summer in you is missing is the heat. You want him, you want sex and you don’t want to think about feelings or consequences. You don’t want to choose between anything anymore. You just want to enjoy yourself.

“I meant it when I said that I want you to be my first,” you say, fingers curling around his ear. Jungkook leans into your touch and it’s as if he’s massaging the wing to alleviate it from a cramp due to being tucked in for so long.

“Okay,” he sighs, taking your hands and pinning them on the pillow and bunny above your head. He sits up, examines you and you wonder if he can see how truly fragile you feel. “Do you trust me?”

He’s had half a year of going out with you, mingling his life with yours, spending money on you and treating you like an absolute treasure to build your overall trust. And what he did just now? How he erased your pain? Your nod is immediate; you don’t need to think twice.

“Of course I trust you.”

“Good.” A soft smile. “I’ll make sure your first time will be beautiful for you.”

Your heart thuds. His words steal all the breath in your lungs, smoothing out the surface of your body for his stars to fill. Tears prick at your waterline.

“Are you scared?”

You’re an empty canvas.

“Not anymore.”

Jungkook nods, gladness pulsating off of him. “I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave you, not even once, okay?”

“Okay.”

He finds the zipper on the side of your skirt and yanks it down. “How many times do you wanna come?”

The ridiculousness of the question makes you laugh and you hide your face beneath your palms. “To be honest, I don’t expect to come at all. It is my first time after all.”

You marvel at the honesty seeping out of you. His work, no doubt.

Jungkook frowns, ridding you of the skirt, fingers hooking under the hem of your top. At the reveal of your pink, flowery, see-through bra, he stops altogether, stunned. He fondles the material, grazing over your soft nipples, at last reaching the embroidery of the small petals. He gasps in wonder, eyes flicking to your intimate parts to see if you’re wearing a matching set.

The same flowers adorn the suppleness of your tummy.

Jungkook smiles at his discovery. Is hasty as he drags the nylon of your tights down your legs, along with your knee socks.

“I’ll decide how many times you come for me, then.”

Heat pools in your femininity. There it is, the dominance that you love. Yet this time, it’s laced with his gentleness. Heaven on earth—a meadow full of flowers in the middle of summer. Like the ones on your lingerie.

Joy grasps your heart. “Do I get to know before you start?”

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss on your tummy. “What, you wanna count them down for me?”

You asked just because, but the idea excites you. You nod.

Your response prolongs the rumble of his laughter and you feel its vibration as he kisses his way up to your clothed breasts. You’d think he’d focus his attention on them, but he straightens—reaches for something behind him and retrieves your white knee socks. He bunches them in his hands and puts them on you as if he were dressing a child.

Paradoxically, goosebumps spread all over your thighs.

Smoothing the material over your thighs, he lies back down against you, lips latching on the spillage of your breasts that your bra gives him. While it feels dizzying, you still want to know the number. You poke him in the bulging muscle of his arm and in the process, you flush his cheeks red.

Jungkook pushes your tits together and licks over the line in the middle. The sight of the shine of his wet tongue against it drenches your pussy, ruining your pretty underwear, and you want him there, on your sweetest spot. Your nipples stand to attention and Jungkook listens to their call, thumbs brushing across them.

You mewl, grinding your hips against his stomach.

“Two times when I eat you out; two times around my cock,” he answers finally, awakening your butterflies. “How many times is that, then?”

Amidst the pleasure, you do the math. “Four.”

“That’s right. You think you can do that for me?”

You’re not sure. In fact, you’re not sure of anything—lost in his touch, in his energy.

“I don’t know,” you say, truthfully, skimming his face for a sliver of disappointment in his features.

You find none. Only tenderness—round, soft eyes, brown in the light he radiates, nose and mouth buried in your tits, sucking on the skin, making you feel good.

“That’s okay. We’ll try together. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you if you don’t come as many times. Or at all. I promise.”

Your chest clenches. You grab his face and kiss him, licking over his bottom lip before you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook grunts, rolls his own muscle over yours, tasting you, feeling you. He inhales sharply against you, once again taking charge of the kiss, taking each and every thought and negative feeling you had and crushing it to smithereens.

He lifts you and switches places with you, sitting you down on his lap with your back supported by his chest. He roams his hands all over you—tits, tummy, hips, sides and thighs while he busies his mouth on your shoulder. As your eyes follow each movement, you notice the marks he embellished your breasts with and your arousal grows—so much that you take his wandering hands and hook them under the waistband of your underwear, guiding them down your thighs.

There’s a change to his breath when his index and middle finger feels up the fleshiness of your cunt for the first time. Hard, raggedy and absolutely tormented. He glides those digits up and down your dewiness, listening for the squelching sound that makes his cock twitch beneath you.

He moans onto your neck, nose tracing the column on its way to your ear. “How do you touch yourself?”

A sudden shyness overtakes you and you turn your head, needing to hide in his neck this time. You remain silent, the words lodged in your throat.

Jungkook sees you.

“Do you rub your little clit from side to side or in circles?” he questions, helping you answer.

“I—I like both,” you whisper onto his skin, moving your hips so his fingers slip to your clit, the sweet spot where you need him the most. He grabs the back of your thigh and lifts it, spreading you open, meanwhile you chase the firmness of his fingers.

“Just like that, ride them,” he husks, eyes dazed, fixed on the roll of your pelvis. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Head on top of yours, you nod, never ceasing your movement, transfixed, just like him, by the constant way the pads of his fingers fondle your clit before dipping between your lips. The heat of the summer tightens in your lower belly and it’s a desperate litany of begging what your mouth utters, despite the fact you’re not really sure what you’re asking for, but you let him hear it. You’re close, so unbelievably close, yet still have a road to walk on before you, and you close your eyes to feel the delight of his touch more deeply, only to find that you manage to do nothing of the kind.

When you sense his eyes on you and by instinct you reciprocate his stare, that’s when you feel the depth you sought after. Mouth parted, pupils dilated, eyelashes a drowsy catastrophe, messy hair casting a soft shadow over the planes of his blissed-out face. You want to kiss him. You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel—

“Let me do it now,” Jungkook says hurriedly, sensing the nearness of your climax.

“Yes,” you croak out, halting the movement of your hips—and ‘yes’ is the word that ripples out of your mouth a hundred, a thousand more times when he spreads you wider and rubs his fingers on your clit from side to side.

He feels the pleasure in sync with you, accepting all of your yes’, twisting his face the moment yours does, quickening the rapidness of his hand once he switches to circles to carry you to your summer-breathed paradise.

And when you come all over his hand, he slips two fingers inside your hole.

He stills the buck of your hips.

You widen your eyes at the new feeling of fullness and, panicking and constricting around him, you look at Jungkook, who merely strengthens his hold around you.

“Trust me,” he says, breathing heavily. He doesn’t move his fingers past his first knuckles; he lets you adjust to the size. Gives you a kiss full of tongue to distract you. “Does it burn?”

You begin to pant against his mouth, the high of your orgasm long gone. You’re uncertain to count it as one when it was so short lived, ruined by the sudden plunge of his digits. But much to your surprise, you don’t detect any burn in your walls that he speaks of, which you realize was his intention.

“No, it just feels a bit uncomfortable.”

He kisses you again. You feel your lips go numb, eyes lidding at the pressure you feel as he sinks his fingers a little bit deeper and begins to move them sluggishly, your slick creating another ring for him around his fingers. You try to meet his thrusts as the visceral sensation of being filled by longer, thicker fingers settles within you and takes roots. You discover that movement is the key to parting the uncomfortable feeling and it steps to the side to let the pleasure walk forward.

Jungkook presses his palm flat against your clit, guides the pleasure to envelop your body when he plunges his fingers deeper, past the second knuckles and fucks you in swift jerks. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan and he fills in the sound, expressing his fiery delight for you at the clench of your walls against him, accommodating for him, for his desire to stretch you out, so when he finally enters you, no pain comes to greet you.

Deeper and harder—yes, that’s what feels good. You roll your body, becoming waves of the sea as wetness and the build up of pleasure—seafoam—is all your senses wrap around.

“Feels good, baby?”

His need to check in with you speeds up the nearing expansion of your orgasm. Pointer and pinky finger digging into the skin of your backside, you watch the in and out motion, the digits coming out wetter and wetter each time.

“Feels so fucking good. I’m gonna come. I’m so close.”

It’s quicker. Way quicker than your first tiny orgasm. He slips in and out of you so smoothly—you’re obsessed with the sight, ravaged by it entirely. You grind your hips and fuck yourself back, picking up the pace but slowing down instantly when you feel yourself at the peak of your climax.

You want to prolong it. You love the feeling too much to end it too soon.

Jungkook stops your movements fully.

“I want to be the one who makes you come,” he murmurs. “I want to be the one who fucks your brain out. I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers. Fuck, I want it so bad.”

His hand drifts to your neck just to hold you there, the other, the busy one, fingers you harder, your fast approaching orgasm blinding your senses. Your drenched cunt squelches around him, the sound so lewd it causes you to seek comfort—your hand flies to his on your throat, fingers wrapping around his wrist, the tip of your pointer reaching the fat bulb of bunny’s head on his ring.

Harder and faster. A scalding fire burns you and you just take it. Loll your head back against his shoulder, giving him the space to grip your jawline. Flames grow closer and closer, leaving a layer of sheen on your body in its wake. You feel the sudden need to pee.

“Oh my god, Gguk—” Your muscles tense. Close, so close. “Gguk, Gguk—”

“What, baby? What’s the matter?” he husks, squeezing your neck once. “You’re gonna come for me? Gonna come on my fingers?”

You nod quickly, too quickly. Flames of the sun, licking you. Flames of the summer heat. Just what you wanted.

Jungkook opens your jaw, swirling his tongue around yours. “Let go. Come for me. You can do it, I got you—I got you. Come for me, baby, please.”

Obeying his desperate order, you do.

A small stream of your pleasure, a faint fountain, trickles out of you and into his hand. He gasps, in unison with your whimpers, and you’re transmitted elsewhere. The wildly colorful, blooming meadow on a hill, overlooking the languorous sea and he’s there. Reaches behind himself. Offers you his hand. The wind ruffles his black hair, sweeps it back and you’re giddy—as giddy as Bam, as giddy as you were in the moment the slid the white bunny ring on your finger—to take the last two of his slender fingers, the pinky and the ring, and sit with him by the edge of the cliff.

“Did so well for me.”

The whisper takes you back and you awake.

You’re different. Incandescent. Of life, of stars and its light, of growing fondness for the man you sit perched on the lap of, whose fingers still remain sheathed inside of you. He changed you. Perpetually, absolutely. He changed you and made you into something new. Something that is softer, more elegant—smaller but assertive. Alluring and kind. Indisputably good.

He fucked everything negative out of you with his fingers. Left the vast canvas of stars inside of you.

You’re no longer a plain spread of cotton, but a living, breathing artwork. His artwork.

Once he fucks you with his cock, you wonder what further internal changes are going to occur within you.

You feel a great deal of gratitude for him—and you want to reciprocate all that he’s done for you. You want to work hard at it. Spoil him. Make him whimper. You believe he deserves it.

“You finger yourself often? How come you took my fingers so well, hm?”

You’re panting, unable to speak. Absorbing the sharpness of the stars, acclimatizing to the change.

“I guess you do, huh?” he deduces. “Good little girl, preparing herself for me.”

For the life of you, you can’t catch your breath.

Jungkook kisses your cheek deeply. Pecks you on the same spot a hundred times, slowly taking out his fingers. Lets you see your slick coating his fingers and, softly, you gasp at the little ripples of wrinkles upon the tips of his fingers, mouth parting.

And then he sinks them into your mouth.

His hardness twitches behind you and you moan, your daintily bittersweet taste making your head spin. And when you look at him, you’re met with the utmost pink-dusted adoration painted on his face. You kiss it, inhaling it, letting it flow into your system so it suffuses your bloodstream, letting him taste you. You may not feel your lips, but the sentient poetry of the stars begins to sing in you. His stars. You feel like a flushed floweret visited by a bee. Spent, but happy.

Happy to be wanted.

Good, because he said you were.

As if internally intertwined with him, you feel the identical heat tinge your cheeks.

He says nothing as he lays you down and spreads your legs back to the way they were. Though when he’s graced with the sight of your bare cunt in all her glory, his face says everything that his mouth isn’t capable of. Hunger and torture—lips agape, corners of the mouth shiny with the rush of drool and Jungkook wipes it away, then lowers his fingers to your clit, to your lips, becoming more acquainted with this intimate part of you that no one had seen before him. He traces your small hole, even going as far as to your other, tinier hole and you yelp, stopping his exploration.

Jungkook merely chuckles, eyes darting to yours. “You’re so pretty.” You grow so hot that you think you must be on fire. “Especially there.”

You mewl, shrinking, hands looking for anything to hold and finding his bunny plushie. You take her into your arms, inhaling a scent that could never be hers. You recognize immediately whose it is.

Musk, vanilla, wood.

The thought of Jungkook cradling her while he sleeps moves you and you pout.

“How we feeling?” he asks, still caressing your fleshy cunt, dripping with dew.

Overjoyed. Overstimulated.

Heavenly.

“Good.”

A foxy smile. “How many orgasms was that, hm?”

You don’t know where your shyness comes from and why it chokes all of the words you want to say. You bury your face in bunny for a moment, taking a breath to fight against it, so you can please him because that’s all you yearn to do.

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

Jungkook stifles a laugh and it makes you feel terrible. And it’s worse when he leans over to kiss you, turns his head at the last moment and faces bunny.

“Bunny, how many times did she come?” he asks her, offering her his ear to hear her answer. Looks at you. Widens his eyes. Gasps. “Two,” he mouths. Listens some more. Nods. “I know she thought she wouldn’t come at all. Crazy, right?” Then he lets out an endearing sound. “She said she’d believed you could do it the moment you said it. She’s so happy for you. How cute,” he coos.

You giggle, the bridge in your throat loosening, light flooding you, over and over, until you think you can’t take any more of it. You feel so full, so happy and the sensation threatens to pour out of your tear ducts.

It heals something within you—that he treats you like this at your most vulnerable state. Your inner child flares, the stars the strength that fixes her stoop, helping her arise, stand straight, stand powerfully.

He smiles down fondly at you. “So what number are we at?”

You hide your face behind your hands. “Two.”

“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.”

You drop your hands and with as much energy as you can muster, you repeat the number.

He purrs, caressing your cheek. “Good girl.” As a reward, as if the praise wasn’t enough, he kisses you deeply. “Will you let me taste you?”

You swallow his desire, but speak up your own, “I want to taste you first, please.”

Jungkook hums, curses under his breath. He straightens and kneels before your form, fingers pinching the back of his T-shirt and pulling it over his body. You catch the sight of his broad shoulders, of each dip and muscle, and your irises grown in width. Him ridding himself of his clothes dishevels his hair and as he untangles his arms from the material, he smiles down at you, noticing your stare.

He caresses the back of your thigh before his hand flies to his hard length. He palms himself once, then continues to undress—tugs his sweatpants down to his knees, though he doesn’t bother himself to fully take them off. The shape of him is more prominent through the fabric of his white Calvins, the bulge of his mushroom wet and pellucid, and you sit up, hand itching to touch him, to join his in making him feel good, but he cups your chin—forcing you to look up at him.

He swipes his thumb over your lips. “You want it?”

You nod. “So bad.”

Jungkook curses again, the sound low and rough.

“Touch it,” he orders and both of your hands listen, wrapping around his girth, squeezing beneath the head of his cock. The thickness of him makes you see the light of the stars that you sense fluttering feverishly inside of you. Your mind is too empty, too washed out by your orgasm, by the change that you don’t even think about how you’re going to take him. Jungkook hisses, tilting his head back before he looks down at you intently. “You did this before?”

You’ve never seen one in real life before, let alone touched one.

“I’ve never let anyone get this close.”

Jungkook strokes your pigtails. “How come you know what to do then?”

Instinct or memory from porn you watched—you don’t know, it all blends together within the fuzziness of your mind. And you tell him.

“I watch a lot of porn.”

Jungkook smiles coyly and it strikes you. You’ve never seen him smile this way before or, even, feel this way before. All you know from him is dominance, dominance and dominance.

You release him from the confines of his boxers and repress your gasp. His ever glistening tip reaches just below his navel and the thickness of his girth obscures most of his pubic hair. Along with the sound of your surprise, you also have a hard time swallowing the saliva collecting in your mouth.

“I want you so bad,” you whisper, needy eyes looking up at him. Shy, too shy to let your gaze linger at the most intimate part of him.

He sucks in a breath at your words, hissing. And you need him inside of you all over again.

Fuck fuzzines in your mind. You’re fuzzy all over. Wrecked with nerves, suddenly. Your hands tremble, hovering in front of his manhood. Jungkook covers them with his, soothing you, and guides you to his shaft. Wraps your fingers around him. Doesn’t let go.

The feel of him under his supervision is slow. He allows you to take in every ridge of him, every vein—the softness of his skin, the warmth and the weight. Round after round, up and down, until you get familiarized with him. A trickle of his male essence drips down the side of him and your tongue instinctively darts out. Like your hands, Jungkook’s breath shakes and he anticipates your next move, despite the fact he’s in charge.

He’s been patient all this time, giving you the time you needed. But that hardly applies when you have him in your hands, when you own his neediness. His whimpers while he waits coax your slick out of you, soaking the bedding beneath you and you can’t take it anymore.

Neither, evidently, can he.

“Baby, please,” Jungkook croaks out. Tortured, so terribly tortured. Grip tight and clammy around your hands.

So vulnerable.

You ache.

You lick up a stripe of his essence on the side of his cock and Jungkook shudders. Shifting onto your knees, you show him the milkie on the tip of your tongue and Jungkook pulls your hair, tilting your head back. Kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Moans, lowly. Then, he holds his girth at the base and pushes your head.

When you take him, a mewl ripples around the thickness of him. His eyes roll back and his grasp of your hair tightens, burning your scalp, adding to the fire. He lets you feel it out; lets you figure out what to do, testing your knowledge from the porn you’ve watched. And the tensing of his stomach divulges his strained effort not to fuck your mouth.

You go slow about it. Swirling your tongue around that rosy head of his, along that delicious ridge, licking a flat stripe across that line of his slit. Getting to know him in all those intimate places, relying on your senses—on them to tell you what he likes. Your hand begins to move on its own, gliding back and forth in tandem with your tongue stimulating his sensitivity. You try not to think about how you can barely fit him in your mouth, because if you do—you’ll ruin his bedsheets.

But then Jungkook hums in approval, sending a gush of wetness out of you and you whimper—you whimper at the worsening ache you feel, at the helplessness that pools in your system by being just so filthily wet and horny.

He moves your hand faster. Breath jagged, bedroom eyes zeroing down on you. And then—

Jungkook moans your name. Over and over, clenching and unclenching his hand on the back of your head.

“Don’t have to teach you shit,” he spits. “You just watch porn all day, don’t you? Naughty girl.”

Losing control for a split second, he rams his cock into your throat—and you don’t panic, you don’t yelp. Instead, you groan.

He pulls you away from him with a sharp tug. Kisses you harshly. Shoves you down into the pillows with one push on your sternum.

Bending you in half, he drinks your cunt. Lips immediately suck on your needy bundle of nerves and it’s so fast you don’t even know which part of you he’s focusing on because he’s everywhere. Clit, hole, clit, hole—sucking, licking. Alternating, alternating so swiftly and deliciously that you completely lose your mind.

And then he lifts your hips and holds them in the air, wanting you to see what he’s doing to you. Like you, he darts out his tongue and teases you, hovering the muscle above your clit. Shiny, nimble, capable of doing unspeakable things to you. He watches as your pussy drools for him and he chuckles darkly. Tongue lowering to collect it, but unlike you he never does it. He lets the dew trickle down your skin.

“Cute little pussy. So wet. Wetter than when I fucked it. You liked playing with me on your knees, didn’t you?”

With your fucked out brain, you don’t think it’s taunting what he’s doing. You deem it’s just him reveling in what he’s able to do to your body—in the fact that he owns it, that he teaches it new things. The glint in his dusky, lustful eyes proves it.

Jungkook drags a long stripe on your clit, making your eyes flutter closed and your teeth to sink into your bottom lip to cage in your moans.

“Talk to me.”

You can’t. You don’t know how to talk.

He stares you down.

No answer from you. Just hard pants. Pussy drooling.

“I won’t play with you, then.”

Panic. “No.”

He cocks a brow at you. “No?”

Silence.

He begins to lower you down but you grip his forearm.

“Jungkook.”

Bent over above you, head low, he merely flicks his eyes to yours. Duskiness, such blackening duskiness in those orbs.

“Beg.”

All your muscles tense. Wetness gushes out of you.

Lucky for you, that word he wants is the one you haven’t forgotten.

“Please.”

“Please what?”

You groan in frustration.

“Be nice or—”

“Please, lick me.”

That dark chuckle. You feel yourself becoming obsessed with it.

“Where?”

A challenge. Your throat dries up.

“There.”

He shakes his head disapprovingly, making a sound that expresses just how much he didn’t like that.

“Try again. Last chance, little girl.”

The loving smile on his face says everything about how that threat is feigned. You hear it tell you—you have as many chances as you need. He’s merely encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone.

And something about that mellow, hidden kindness gently ushers you to do just that.

“Lick my clit, please.”

A hum. A long stripe on that sensitive, thumping spot. A roll of his tongue forward and backward.

“Like this?”

You choke out a moan.

“Yes, please.”

“Or—” He blows on you, causing you to tremble. “Like this?”

He shakes his head against you briskly, not yet at a full tilt. Just like his, your body shudders in his hands and he tightens his grip on your supple hips. You can’t take it, the pleasure is overwhelming and—

“Look at me,” he orders and you open your eyes, immediately. “Like this?”

Jungkook adds more pressure and rapidness to the movement, leaving you glazed sweetly in the sheen of his saliva. He moves your hips up and down on the firmness of his tongue and you scream, taking a strong hold of his hair.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck, Daddy—”

Shocked, Jungkook groans against your pussy, slowing down to ingest what your mouth has just uttered. It’s more than natural to call him by a title like this, instinctual, innate. It fits him so well and it drenches your pussy, your slick amalgamating with his liquid love. You’re certain he feels the rush.

Your Daddy.

You roll your hips against his tongue. Dark and more dark, those eyes of his. Bottomless pit.

“Fuck yes, call me Daddy again.”

The whimpers you let out are pathetic and Jungkook shudders at them, groaning. You whine the title over and over again, a verdant, dreamlike litany of your feminine sexuality pampered, cared for, supervised. Jungkook accepts the gravity of it all, each declaration propelling him to suck your clit harder, bruises forming on your hips from his deathly grip, black eyes never leaving yours, hypnotizing you.

And when you come like this, it’s unification what happens.

You’re bound to him and he’s bound to you.

Daddy and little girl.

Throughout your sexual experience today, you had a hard time accepting things but this—this is something that slept inside of you all your life and just now has been awoken to a flickering canvas of bright stars. You feel it blink, adjust to the piercing light, before it smiles dolefully—happy to be conscious, happy to be caressed.

Jungkook kisses you and takes his time. The taste of your femininity, the fresh coldness of your change, the strong wine of his desire. You’re drunk. You’re slurring your mewls.

And one thing about unification, it’s a mirror.

You swallow down the same mewls, uttered by his throat.

“Daddy’s gonna give it to you,” he whispers, adjusting between your legs. “Will be gentle. You’re safe with me.”

He rakes the tip of his length along the entirety of your little sea-kissed seashell.

“You want it? You want Daddy’s cock inside of you?”

Jungkook looks into your eyes deeply as he asks you that question, the tip ready at your significantly smaller hole. He peppers kisses along your jawline and chin.

“I’m scared it’ll hurt,” you murmur, brows furrowed.

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth.

“We’ll chase the pain away,” he promises.

Your frown deepens.

“But what if it doesn’t fit?”

You expect him to chuckle, but he does no such thing. He absorbs your worry by kissing you tenderly. Then he glances at your body. Remembers he never took off your bra and fixes his mistake.

“You may be small, but you were made to take me,” he says and your heart skips a beat; you wonder if he understands the gravity of his words as they take roots within you, rising to bloom into splendid flowers. “Besides, my dick is tiny. You won’t even feel it.”

It is so far from the truth that you burst into giggles. He laughs along with you—a mirror reflected.

Stars and flowers. Sea and freshness. You were made to take him. You trust him.

He kisses your breasts, licking over your nipple—but briefly. Holding his shaft, he asks if you’re ready. You nod, your fingers desperately searching for his and Jungkook notices. Sinking slowly inside of you, he grabs his bunny plushie and tucks her into the crook of your elbow.

There’s a pinch of pain, blended with the feeling of discomfort as your walls stretch around his head.

Seeing it painted on your face, Jungkook draws close, enveloping you and bunny in his heat. Pushes a little more in. You wail softly, the pain intensifying. Fear intermingles with your features and Jungkook—the worry in his countenance makes you almost weep.

“Hold onto me,” he says, brows scrunched, so—so serious. “Relax, baby. I got you.”

You hook your arms around his neck, bunny sandwiched between your chest and his. Jungkook saves this time to let you adjust around him.

“I know it hurts,” he whispers onto your mouth, index finger, the ringed one, stretching to graze your cheek. “Just relax your muscles for me. It’ll feel good soon.”

You nod, trusting him.

He pecks you. Smiles.

“How many orgasms are we at?”

You roll your eyes, your own smile threatening your lips. “Three.”

Jungkook hums. Pecks you again. You feel your walls loosening, little by little.

A smug smirk. “You didn’t expect that, did you?”

“You obliterated my expectations.”

“Just wait until I fuck you properly.”

You blush, eyes twinkling.

“Pretty girl.” He kisses you and you feel your attachment forming again, though this time—newly. As light, as free as an entanglement of seaweed upon seashore, you and him. Connected. Bound. No fear, not even a hint of it. “I heard you watch porn.”

Your flush deepens. Jungkook sinks a little deeper. A faint pain—nothing bad.

“Who told you?” You laugh, the sound ridding you of your shyness.

But Jungkook grows solemn.

“Tell me what kind you watch,” he whispers, angling his head to give you a tiny kiss.

Your cheeks hurt from the smiling, from the onrush of emotions within you, sloshing to and fro. You feel hot all over.

“The one where all the focus is on the girl,” you whisper back. “The guy uses all kinds of toys on her and she just takes it. Comes so many times and there’s a countdown for it.”

Humming, he begins to nibble on the skin beneath your jaw, making your breath shallow. He pushes in another inch—and the pain is worse. You tighten your grip around him.

“And how many times do you come when you watch it?” Deep, deep is his voice, the calmness to your nerves due to the pricking you feel.

“I don’t stop coming.”

Jungkook swears under his breath and clenches his digits into a fist beside your head.

“And you finger yourself?”

You nod, confidently. Another inch. He smiles at your confirmation of his deduction.

“How many fingers?”

You scoff. “Just one.”

“Well done,” he praises, kissing you once, keeping his mouth on you even as he asks, “ready?”

You nod, again, even though there’s fright to your eyes. He sees it and he brushes his eyelashes against your eyelids while he kisses you, taking it all away. And he doesn’t stop, even as he pulls out and thrusts back into your heat. Gently, so awfully gently.

He didn’t break his promise.

Jungkook rocks his hips in slow, sensual, prolonged staccatos, moaning into your parted mouth. You’re so focused on him—on the bulging of his muscles on the either side of your head, the broadness of his shoulders, the slick sweat dripping down his neck, right from the top of his tattoo; on the sheerness of his pleasure as he moves in and out, carefully so as to not frighten you, that the pain quickly subsides.

And there you feel it.

The sensation unlike any other.

He rams into you, seeing the wrinkle between your brows smoothing, the lust clouding your eyes as the delight spreads all over your body, bringing along little dots of goosebumps. The night sea, windless, still hot from the afternoon’s goodbye kiss. You feel it—and you feel it deeply, sinking inside of you with every inch of his manhood. So much that you meet his thrusts.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck yes,” Jungkook murmurs, enraging the waves within. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Being fucked?”

Stars and its light. He picks up the pace, hooking your leg over his shoulder, entering you deeper and deeper, giving you more than half. The thrill of feeling so full—you curse, you moan, you can’t hold it in, even if you tried. And Jungkook coos at your conveyance of the pleasure he’s giving you, never lifting his eyes off of yours, off of your features, your emotions. Surveying you, controlling you, making sure you’re okay—more than okay.

You sense the pressure coil deep within your core, the sense of your climax approaching and you’re astonished at how quick it is. You halt your own movements, needing—wanting him to be the one to get you there, the one who owns your orgasms.

“Gguk, Gguk, fuck—”

“I know,” he breathes. “I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.”

He fucks you harder, making you cry out. Deep, deep staccatos, so different from the slow, languid ones. You can’t catch your breath, the sea within you sloshes violently and then—

Softly, you sprinkle him with your fountain of pleasure. Not enough to drive him out, but sweetly enough to force him to groan against you and pound you harder into the mattress. Continuing as if you hadn’t come.

You don’t have the time or the space to think about what just happened—he fucks each and every thought of you.

“My little squirter,” Jungkook mutters, kissing you. “One more, baby. One more for me and I’ll paint you with my cummie. Hm, you want that?” You’re gone, flung out of this world into a tranquil island. The palm trees, the sea and his cock. Your emotions are numb, body limp. All you feel is his cock, ramming and ramming into you. “Or you wanna swallow it for me like a good girl?”

“Swallow, please,” you croak out and Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Rewards you by giving you the full thing, filling you balls-deep.

“You feel me?” He kisses you, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth.

Glorious, glorious delight. You can’t breathe. Too much.

“I feel you—” You lift your head to look down where you’re connected. “I—I feel you in my stomach.”

Sitting back, he lifts your hips and palms the bulge just a little bit above your mound. Feels it move under him once he resumes fucking you. He replaces his hand with yours, keeping you distracted as he undoes the ribbon in your hair and ties your wrists with it. Right there above the bulge, where he fucks you. Then he latches onto your hips and jackhammers his cock into you, watching as your tits along with bunny bounce with each slam.

“You look so pretty like this, tied up for me, taking all that I’m giving you,” he says, thumbing your clit, making you cry out. “Such a good fucking girl for me. I’m bringing you up so well.”

“Daddy,” you call out and Jungkook nods.

“Yes, that’s right. Daddy is fucking you so good.”

White flashes. Seafoam. The pressure in your tummy deepening and deepening. The roar of the night sea and your body following—you come all over him, painting him iridescent with your dewiness. His joggers, dragged halfway down his thighs, his boxers are all ruined—pelvis, thighs and cock glistening. It’s such a beautiful image to you that it suffuses you with energy and you begin to speak.

“Please, come for me.”

Surprised, Jungkook chuckles. “Don’t you have orgasms to count down?”

The ever persistent need for control. You kiss him, slip your tongue into his mouth to shut him up and you struggle against your ribbon, for the feeling of kissing him without your hands makes you feel iffy.

“Five. I came five times for you just like you wanted,” you whisper. “You fucked me so good. I’ll never forget it.”

And it’s the truth.

Jungkook pecks you once deeply, humming into the kiss. He pulls out of you and whilst he strokes his cock, his fingers tug down the ribbon around your wrists. You take your place on your knees, gazing with awe and hunger at his shiny length. And as if he needed it, he plunges his fingers into your mouth for more lubrication. Then, grabbing your jawline gently, he pulls you in towards his cock, letting your lips play with his tip the way you like it as he jerks himself off. You flick your tongue under the ridge of his head and his length twitches, stunning you. You do it again, more rapidly, and you don’t stop until Jungkook begins to tremble. Pulling him inside your mouth, then out, flicking faster and faster. Repeat.

Jungkook grunts.

“Yes, like that, princess. Fuck, I’m gonna come for you.”

He announces it, but it still comes as a surprise when the first rope of hot cum spills onto your flushed cheek. You suck him harder for a moment before you stick out your tongue, eyes flick up, as he empties his balls for you, his hand never ceasing the swift tug on his length.

And he just keeps coming. Rope after rope. Liquid star after star.

And you swallow it all.

Spent, sweaty and breathless, he helps you swallow it. Dragging his fingers to the places your tongue can’t reach, he feeds you his cum and you suck on his digits. Your heart thuds in your ribcage, especially when he begins to play with your tongue, smiling down at you in that dopey way.

He pats you on the cheek once you show him you’ve swallowed it all.

“Good girl. Good little princess.”

That you are. A changed person for all eternity.

“Is your tummy full?”

You nod, beaming vehemently up at him, the aftertaste of the bitterness of his liquid stars still wafting through your senses.

The three forbidden words rise in your tongue, even though you don’t believe them—you think it’s just the opulence of new emotions and experience that forces those words on your tongue. But they remain adamant when he bathes you clean, when he brushes your hair and gives you his clothes to wear to bed. They provoke you right there on the tip of your tongue when he gives you his zipper hoodie to wear on his balcony once you tell him you need a smoke and he joins you, giving you his pack of cigarettes.

And they come off the edge, in a different form, when you tell him of how he changed you while you hold his hand and he caresses your damp strands with a cigarette propped between his index and middle fingers, kissing your cheek. The smoke fixes a makeshift halo around both of your heads. One body, one halo. Bound.

“You’re such a lovable person, Gguk.”

What you don’t know is that those mere words changed the entire trajectory of his life. Yours, too.

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two, part three

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

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starstruckmiraclekitty · 5 months

Note

hihi!! idk if ur requests are open so ignore this if they aren't!

reader was cheated on so she goes to simons house for comfort. one thing leads to another and hes saying "i bet he couldn't fuck you like this" while absolutely destroying her

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.” Simon grunted as he placed a gentle kiss to your temple. “He’s such a damn fool for what he did.”

You honestly don’t know how you ended up here. One minute you found out your boyfriend of 3 years was cheating on you, and the next you were laying underneath your best friend of 10 years as he completely worshipped you.

You should’ve known better, your boyfriend (well ex-boyfriend now) had so many red flags you’d lost count, but you always tried to see the best in people, never truly realizing just how hurt you could end up because of it.

Simon Riley was the one person in your life who was always your rock, always was there for you, always cared for you when nobody else bothered to. He was the only person you wanted to comfort you tonight.

He welcomed you with open arms like he always did, his hugs able to cure any emotion or ailment you may have. You’d cried your eyes out to him, let out all your frustrations into his chest as he held you close.

You never, never expected to end up kissing him, let alone finding yourself in his bed, being utterly ruined by him later that night. It was everything you never knew you hoped for. After the many years you’d been friends with him, you finally realized that he was the one you’d always wanted to be with.

“I don’t deserve you, Simon. You’re too good for me.” You cried out, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix after a particular rough jut of his hips. “I’m so sorry it took me so long to realize.”

“You’ve got that backwards, love.” A soft chuckle escaped his lips before he slotted them against yours. His kiss was gentle, but so full of emotion it had your heart swelling. “I’ve wanted you to be mine since the day I laid eyes on you. I’m a patient man, sweet girl.”

You’d never been fucked like this before, never been worshipped like this. Your body felt weightless, a warm heat spreading throughout your body as Simon’s cock rubbed against your slick walls.

A guttural moan escaped your lips as he increased his pace, the sound of slapping skin filling the room. You felt your high rapidly approaching, as your toes started to curl, and your eyes fluttered shut. He was so fucking good at this.

“Did he make you feel this good, sweetheart?” Simon groaned, his breath fanning over your ear. “I bet he couldn’t fuck you like this, could he?”

You weakly shook your head, your mouth falling open slightly as Simon nipped at your earlobe, his thick length sliding against your walls at a frenzied pace. You’d never felt this full before, this stuffed. It felt like his cock was made just for you.

“That’s what I thought.” He purred, moving to capture your lips in his once more. His tongue darted out, exploring each and every inch of your mouth, committing your taste to memory. “Being so good for me. Can’t believe this is what I’ve been fuckin’ missing out on.”

“Simon.” You chanted, your nails digging crescents into the toned skin of his back. Soft moans and sounds of slapping skin deliciously filling the air as both of you lost yourselves in one another.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Say my name. Let me know how good I’m making you feel.” Simon cooed, his hands lacing with your own above your head as his cock continued to slide in and out of you at a brutal pace. “You are so incredible, love. I should’ve made you mine a long fuckin’ time ago.”

Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, every emotion you were feeling bubbling to the surface. You let your eyes flutter open, your heart skipping a beat as you found Simon looking down at you with complete and utter adoration.

Any self consciousness or self loathing thoughts you may have had before being in your best friend’s arms suddenly vanished, and were now left feeling completely and utterly cherished.

You slipped your hands from Simon’s, and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him impossibly close to you. You never wanted this moment to end. “I’m yours, Simon.”

“That’s right, love. All fuckin’ mine now. I am going to ruin you for any other man, love. Gonna treat you like the princess you are.”

And he fucking did.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #cod imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #female reader

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spectorgram · 6 months

Text

the letter

theodore nott x f! reader summary: you get a letter from a secret admirer who wants to confess. your best friend is none too pleased. notes: jealous! theodore nott >>> word count: 1.4k

You would think for a magical school, Hogwarts would have better heating or some heating spell, but the Slytherin dorms are frigid as usual as winter creeps up. You fasten your robe clasps and draw it tighter around you, simultaneously trying to tug your skirt down in a futile way to heat yourself up more. Your knee-high socks only do so much and you pretty much give up on the endeavor as you climb up the stairs and head for the Great Hall.

You’re immediately greeted by the cozy warmth of the hall, spotting your friends, all swathed in green and silver robes and knits. Theo spots you first, sliding over and nearly knocking Blaise off the bench. “Blood hell, mate,” Blaise grumbles as you approach, kicking Theo’s leg lightly.

You slip into the space created for you, right in between Theo and Enzo. You stifle a yawn and ask, “Can someone pass the eggs and bacon?”

As Enzo reaches for both platters, Theo’s eyes zero in on your legs. “How are you not cold?”

You frown. “I am,” you reply, piling your breakfast onto your plate, “but Pansy’s demon cat apparently thought my winter tights were toys and decided to scratch them all up.”

Pansy sighs, “I’ve ordered you new ones, calm down.”

Theo drapes his robe over your legs and you smile gratefully at him. He smiles back and your heart flips. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how beautiful he is — all dark caramel curls and long lashes that frame those devastatingly blue eyes. He’s been your best friend since you started Hogwarts and you knew you loved him at first sight. The longer you’ve known him, the more you’ve fallen for him.

It’s a tale as old as the world itself: you’re hopelessly in love with your best friend but you value your friendship far too much to do anything to jeopardize it.

“Mail’s here,” you hear someone say down the table. You look up to the ceiling, which has been enchanted to look like a sky that’s about to break open and drop snowflakes from its clouds. Owls soar in through the openings at the top of the walls, diving down towards their intended recipients.

“Maybe your new tights are here,” Enzo says.

Pansy adds, “I hope so. Then you’ll stop complaining about it.”

You snort, reaching up to grab a letter dropped by your family owl. You feed her a piece of scrambled egg as she takes off back towards the owlery. You tuck your parents’ letter into the inner pocket of your robe just as another owl swoops overhead, dropping a pale blue envelope on your lap.

“Who’s that from?” asks Pansy.

You shrug, using your butter knife to open it up. As you do, Draco grumbles at Mattheo: “For the love of Salazar, stop hogging the pastry basket.”

You skim over the letter addressed to you. You tilt your head in confusion and Blaise asks, “What’s it say?”

Enzo peeks over your shoulder and his face breaks into a smirk. “‘Meet me at the Astronomy Tower at midnight tonight. Signed, Your Secret Admirer.’” he reads.

“What?” Theo suddenly snatches the letter from your hand. You watch in confusion as his eyes dart back and forth. His shoulders tense and his mouth purses into a thin, hard line.

“You doing okay there, Nott?” Matthew asks, shooting a simpering smile at his friend. Theo sends a glare back but doesn’t say anything, the letter’s paper crinkling under his grip.

Pansy asks, “Are you going to go?”

You hesitate, surreptitiously glancing at Theo, startled to find that he’s gazing at you with an intensity you’ve never experienced. You pluck the letter from him and fold it neatly. “I think so,” you say. “I’m interested to see who it is.”

“Be sure to bring your wand,” Draco says. “Just in case.”

“Obviously,” you deadpan. The conversation shifts into whether anyone was prepared for midterms coming up.

You fiddle with the letter in your lap. Theo’s silent for the whole conversation.

You chew on your bottom lip as you reread the same sentence in your textbook for what feels like the hundredth time. The letter has stuck in your head the whole day. It crosses your mind that it could be a prank or a set-up — it’s not a secret that Slytherin isn’t the most popular House among your classmates — but you know you can handle yourself. You’re more worried about how Theo was acting at breakfast. He didn’t say a word the rest of the meal, not even when Enzo and Mattheo tried looping him into the conversation. He just sat there, sullen and gloomy, and his mood seemed to worsen more when you handed him his robe back and said you had to get to class.

You sigh heavily, trying to play out every possible scenario that could happen between you and the letter writer. You check the clock in the library: 11:45; you need to head over to the Astronomy Tower.

You groan, gathering your things, sliding them into your bag, and making your way back to the Slytherin common room to drop off your things in your dorm. “Cacophony,” you supply to the portrait, which swings open to let you in.

The common room is blissfully silent when you enter, a welcome contrast to the mess of thoughts in your head. You’re about to head down the hall to your dorm when you collide against someone. You huff an apology but when you feel their hand on your shoulder, you look up to see Theo. He looks intense, eyes wide and glinting with sharp determination and his mouth still set in that frown from earlier. “Sorry, Theo,” you say. “Didn’t see you there. Where are you going at this hour?”

“I was going to find you,” he replies.

“Oh,” you say. “Well, here I am. Sorry, I’ve got to drop this stuff off and then—”

“Head to the Astronomy Tower,” he finishes for you, “to meet your ‘secret admirer.’”

You don’t like the way he sneers at the last part of his sentence or the way he uses air quotations. You’re about to respond when he says, “Don’t go.”

“What?”

“Don’t go,” he repeats.

“Why not?”

He pauses before saying, “What if it’s someone just having a laugh?”

You bristle, hurt, and you feel your temper flare. “Is it so damn hard to believe that someone might actually have a crush on me?”

Theo laughs, razor-sharp and incredulous, as if he can’t believe that you’re saying something so outrageous, “No, it’s not.”

“Then why shouldn’t I go?”

“Because I don’t want you to!”

“For Salazar’s sake, Theo, you can’t tell me what to do!”

“I know that!”

“Then are you trying to tell me not to go?”

“Because I bloody like you!”

Your heart stutters to a stop. You can only hear the sounds of both of your labored breathing and you suddenly can’t meet his eyes, trying your best to wrap your head around the fact that your feelings are reciprocated. “How long?’ you ask softly, holding your breath.

“Since first year.”

You blink. “Really?”

He rakes a hand through his hair and sighs heavily, “Mattheo’s right; you’re so oblivious.” There’s another beat of silence and he asks, a little shyly, “How do you feel?”

You can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face. “I like you too, Theo. I’ve liked you since first year as well.”

He echoes your “Really?” and it makes you giggle, “I guess we’re both oblivious.”

He joins your laughter and you let your forehead rest on his chest as your shoulders shake. When it dies down, Theo shifts you off him and lifts your chin with his forefinger, any semblance of coyness gone. You gaze into his ocean blue eyes. Salazar, you could drown in them. He offers a charming smile and he leans close, just a few centimeters away, and says, “Can I kiss you?”

Your eyelashes flutter and your voice comes out barely louder than a whisper, “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Your lips meet, fervent and desperate, years of yearning releasing like water through a broken dam. Theo hooks his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as possible. You wind your arms around his neck, fingers toying with the hair at his nape. He walks you backward, slipping his tongue into mouth as he crushes you up against the wall. He deepens the kiss and your knees go weak.

Theo moves your bag off your shoulder and drops it on the floor. The letter that rested at the top of the pile of possessions falls out, laying forgotten on the ground.

#theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x you #theo nott x you #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott fic #theo nott imagine #theo nott fic #harry potter #slytherin boys #✶ NOVE WRITES

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minisugakoobies · 25 days

Text

Cross My Heart | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, grinding/dry humping, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy

Word Count: 5.2k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.

Text Prompt: You: I can’t stand you Mingyu: Then sit on my face

A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now 👅

Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

It’s finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, you’re exhausted.

Well, mentally you’re worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where it’s currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though it’s night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem.

Fucking jet lag got you anyway.

Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasn’t so confused.

Because you’re trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you don’t really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you.

So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.

It’s an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, he’s Minghao’s friend, you don’t know him as well as you do the others, but still. You’re friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever he’s around.

He’s also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasn’t long before you realized he’s like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.

It’s morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.

Mingyu’s an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship you’ve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around.

You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if he’s awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous?

Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. It’s ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure he’s got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isn’t spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye.

It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But he’s never struck you as conceited. It’s something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-

A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.

Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago.

Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. There’s no need to panic. He couldn’t have seen that. Maybe you’re overreacting, but no one needs to know you’re lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him.

A notification drops down over Mingyu’s face. A message.

Mingyu: Someone’s up late.

Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now he’s in your DMs.

After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back.

You: Can’t sleep

Mingyu: Same. Jet lag’s got me fucked up

Mingyu: You know what always helps when I can’t sleep?

You: What?

Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos

Even though he’s not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that.

You: Shut up

Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered

You: Oh fuck off

Mingyu: No really, I am

Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad

Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You can’t handle this right now.

You: Idk what you’re talking about

You: It was an accident

Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me?

You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?

Mingyu: I mean yeah

You snort.

You: You’re ridiculous

Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it

You: I’ll give you that

A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe you’re boring him. Maybe he’s found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.

When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little.

Mingyu: What else will you give me?

And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is.

Would it be too real to reply with the truth? “Whatever you want?”

You: I don’t know

You: What do you want?

Mingyu: What if I say you?

Suddenly you don’t understand words.

You: Why would you say that?

Mingyu: Because it’s my answer

Mingyu: I’m being honest again

You: That’s the jet lag talking

Mingyu: Oh come on

Mingyu: You really don’t know?

You: Know what??

Mingyu: How I feel about you

Is he being serious right now??

You: If this is a joke I don’t get it

Mingyu: Not a joke

Mingyu: Hold on

The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyu’s going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one.

Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you

Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.

You: You’re so annoying, oh my god

Mingyu: So annoying that you can’t stop looking at my photos at 1 am?

Mingyu: Or flirting with me?

You: Is that what’s happening? Are we flirting?

Mingyu: Ok don’t act like you don’t know

Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time

You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time

Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you

Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance.

You: You’re so dumb

Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend you’re not enjoying this?

You: Who said I’m pretending?

Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this

Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad

You: Shut uppppp

Mingyu: Go on, yell at me

Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad

You: No really

You: I can’t stand you

Mingyu: Then sit on my face

Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response.

You: What?

Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.

You’re blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.

You: Fuck off. Stop playing.

Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious

Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. I’ll go out a happy man.

Your gorgeous thighs? He’s never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.

You can’t help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. It’s not the first time you’ve fantasized about it, but it’s the first time the vision has felt… possible.

Mingyu: No response? You’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?

You: Don’t tease me

Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways I’d love to tease you, but this isn’t one

You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like you’re trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping.

You: You’re really serious?

Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die

Mingyu: Between your legs

Again you laugh.

You: You’re such an idiot

Mingyu: Does that mean you’re not coming over?

You: Like right now??

Mingyu: Why not?

Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring

Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself

You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now.

You: I guess if I’m not sleeping anytime soon

In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide.

You: I could come over

Mingyu: I promise I’ll make it so good for you

Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over

You inhale sharply. He’s definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.

Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you

What else is there to say to that but -

You: I’m coming over

It’s a short walk to Mingyu’s room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you can’t stop stalking. Mingyu’s shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you weren’t already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge.

“That was fast,” he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. “Did you run down the hall?”

“I thought I told you to shut up,” you shoot back.

“And I thought I told you to make me,” he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, he’s kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands.

It’s rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyu’s definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and you’re certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.

He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if he’s needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin that’s exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss you’ve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu.

It’s delicious. It’s amazing. It’s every superlative you can think of. But it’s not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because you’re here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isn’t about to quit kissing him any time soon.

Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now it’s like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like you’re lighter than air. You’d swoon if you weren’t so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off

He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and you’ve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it?

“Stop me if I’m going too fast,” he says between kisses.

“You can go as fast as you want,” you reply, without even a second’s pause. “Just don’t stop.”

“Damn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,” he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. “It’s okay, I like how needy you are for me.”

“Shut up,” you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close.

Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.

But again, you want more. You want what he’d promised earlier.

He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. “

‘Gyu, please!”

“Please what?”

He doesn’t lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment.

Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever he’s willing to give, you’ll take. You’re feeling greedy as fuck right now.

“I want what you promised me.”

“Hold on,” he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. “Let a man at death’s door enjoy his last moments.”

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid,” you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. He’s just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.

“Fine,” he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. “Time for my last meal.”

He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so he’s lying on the bed on his back and you’re straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since you’d been dressed for bed, you hadn’t bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyu’s expression, you made the right call.

“Pretty,” he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. It’s clear to you now just how eager Mingyu’s been since you walked in. He wasn’t lying - he wants you just as much as you want him.

With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can.

“You drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.”

Mingyu’s words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”

“Your fault,” you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips.

“Then allow me to make it up to you,” he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. You’re going to lose your mind before you even get to his face.

You’re not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. “Get up here, please,” he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.

Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyu’s big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only it’s so much better than you’d ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like he’s the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like he’s trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel.

“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.”

He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You don’t settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire that’s building inside you, spurred on by the way he’s brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want.

“‘Gyu,” you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation.

When you try to shift again, he’s quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - he’s in charge now.

“Stay still, pretty,” he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?”

With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.

“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”

Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like he’s agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat.

You’re not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes.

As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.

“‘Gyu…” Mingyu’s mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh my god.”

“Mmmmphf,” Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyu’s hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you.

The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyu’s hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck.

If you were more limber, you’d reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you can’t stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyu’s tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. It’s too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly.

You can’t stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyu’s tongue. Even in your daze, it doesn’t escape your attention that Mingyu’s absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord that’s building inside you to a crescendo.

“‘Gyu, please.”

At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around.

When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyu’s head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. “You okay?”

“Fuck, Mingyu, ‘m good,” you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. “I’m having an amazing night.”

Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.

“Yeah, me too,” he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, you’d confess something right now, something you weren’t planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.

Mingyu folds you in half easily, because you’re giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, he’s able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you.

His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft “Please,” and that’s all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you can’t keep bucking your hips up.

“I said, stay still,” he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows he’s frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements.

Your whine is beyond petulant. “Don’t tease me!”

“Pretty, I promise you, when I tease you, you’ll know.”

And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids.

“It’ll be something like this.”

He withdraws his hand.

“Gyuuuuuu.”

If he was slightly cocky earlier, he’s fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. “Wow, so whiny. You do want me bad.”

“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”

You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that he’s close to being satiated, because you’re teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over.

“Mingyu. Mingyu, I’m gonna cum.” You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, that’s it - “Oh god, I’m gonna cum!”

Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you.

Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. He’s the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again.

“Kiss me.”

He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.

The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“Careful, pretty,” he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. “‘M close.”

“Wanna make you come, ‘Gyu,” you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip.

“Fuck.” His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. “But I’m gonna make a mess.”

“Do it. Make a mess.” The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things you’ve never said to anyone else. “Come all over me.”

Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. He’s barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands.

“Pretty… don’t say that….”

“Please, ‘Gyu.” All shame has fled your body. “I want it.”

No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before he’s painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.

When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture?

“Wow,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. “You’re even prettier when you’re covered in me.”

His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. “‘Gyuuuuu!”

“Changed my mind, I’m calling you ‘whiny' from now on.” The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. “Let me.”

His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When you’re both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. “Think you can sleep now?”

Oh, you can sleep. You’re feeling satiated in a way you haven’t for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.

Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I don’t want to.”

“Oh?” Mingyu’s smile mirrors yours. “What do you wanna do instead?”

“I might have some ideas.”

He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.

“Tell me what you want, pre-”

A sharp rap on the door startles you both.

“Dude, don’t you dare!” Minghao hisses through the wood. “We’ve been out here forever!”

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