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kentopedia · 7 months

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♰ his parliament's on fire — dazai osamu

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ KINKTOBER NO. 1 - nightclub owner!dazai

every man in yokohama has a long list of crimes they’d commit to be with you, but none quite as long as dazai’s.

contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, port mafia boss!dazai, port mafia member!reader, bsd typical blood / violence, unprotected sex, established relationship, takes place before doa, dazai & reader are a lil unhinged bc they're in love, praise, soft dazai, riding dazai, sub reader, v slight breeding kink oops — 10.1k

The music shook your chest as you watched people head to the front of the club for a dance, a combination of those that were regulars, and those who were just desperate to blow their money on an evening in one of the finest night clubs in the country.

It had grown hot in the club, even for an autumn evening in Yokohoma. There were more people filling the tables than usual, standing only to swing their partners around on the dancefloor. A woman sung sultrily to the crowd, a song that you hadn’t heard in ages. Even for a Saturday, it was crowded, the capacity met, and then surpassed, packed to the brim as a group of foreign billionaires weaseled their way in by paying twice the entry fee.

You swirled your glass, sitting alone at the bar with your legs crossed, the tight, red dress rising up on your thighs. Beside you, a man was puffing a cigar, blowing the smoke back in your face so frequently that it took all your effort not to cough. Still, he paid you little attention, too enraptured by a skinny young woman that giggled every time he touched her arm.

A few more individuals made their way to the dancefloor, tracking unaccompanied dancers like prey, hopeful that they could score a partner for the evening. It was amusing, really, how often you’d seen some of the same men come back. They’d throw stacks of money on the table in a desperation to acquaint themselves with beautiful, upper-class women, even if they’d go home unhappy and broke.

Ice clinked against the sides of your glass as the last drop disappeared down your throat, warming you up for the rest of the evening. Already, you had caught the glimpse of several men in the club. But those who knew who you were knew to keep their distance, and they never tried to sneak more than a subtle glance in your direction.

Those who didn’t usually noticed nothing but your striking beauty and the allure of darkness that seemed to follow you. They were drawn to you easily, smiling at you like they were entitled to gawk at your appearance, like it would be criminal for anyone so beautiful to shield herself away from the world.

Rarely did that ever end well for them.

You handed your empty glass off to the bartender—a dear friend that you’d convinced to work for you at the club—and made your way over to the dance floor. The crowd parted for you with quick glances and slackened jaws, stumbling on their own feet to get out of your way. Once you passed, the world seemed to resume itself. Everyone continued about their business, averted their gaze, even if they were careful not to get too close to you.

Something about that made you smile.

For a while, you danced on your own, grinning carelessly to yourself as you twisted your hips, unbound yourself to the music and the alcohol that ran through your veins. It was a different kind of freedom, and though you’d once been wary of the watchful eyes, they no longer bothered you. You loved losing yourself in the rhythm, loved feeling transported to another realm.

The setlist for the evening included a few of your favorites, and you carried on until there was sweat on your forehead, a single bead trickling down your temple, one that you hastily wiped off. Breaths came to you more stiflingly, heaving inhales and exhales that paired with your thirst.

Finally, the tempo of the music slowed, just enough to snap you back into the present, and the energy zapped out of you as your mood darkened. The time of the evening had passed when you realized that it was no longer fun to dance alone.

You sighed, and with a frown, let your gaze trail across the room to find the cool brown eyes that you loved more than the music you spun in circles to. But Dazai was already in a conversation with someone else, tapping slender fingers against his glass full of amber liquid. He listened intently to a conversation between two men twice his age.

Beside him, Chuuya stood at the edge of the table like a loyal bloodhound, his arms crossed as he leaned back against the wall. You caught his eye instead and smiled to him, though not a single muscle in his face twitched. It seemed as though he was intent on keeping up the charade for the evening.

As much as you wanted to smile even more sweetly and taunt him mercilessly, you didn’t let yourself get too distracted. Instead, you refocused your sights on your other goal.

The stocky, tall man was right where Dazai said he’d be, sitting with a couple woman and a few empty glasses in front of him. He had a neatly trimmed, graying beard, sporting a watch that was, at least, a couple million yen.

You caught him watching you over the edge of the table, his smile slow as you bat your eyelashes at him, sauntering past him with a perfectly coy expression. Eyes lingered on the curves of your hips; the smooth skin of your legs revealed by the dress. The lust came in near waves off of him, thick and heavy as they reached you.

It made your job easier, the obvious attraction that they never tried to hide from you. You smiled to yourself, and felt a sense of satisfaction, despite his disgraceful leering.

The seats at the bar had been filled up when you returned, leaving no room for you and your new companion to retreat.

A younger regular, one with an overabundance of nerves and an awkward smile, spoke in hushed whispers to his friend, one that was dressed in a suit far too cheap to be in this club.

You tapped him on the shoulder, smiling at him in the way that had everyone bending over backwards for you. “Excuse me?”

He looked over, irritated for a fleeting second before realizing who it was that had approached him. Immediately, he was to his feet, stammering over a greeting while his friend gawked at him with incredulity.

“Sorry to bother you,” you said, softening your voice. “I was wondering if I could have those seats. I hate to—”

“No, no,” he said, practically shoving the other man away, pushing him out of the chair while he sputtered confused nonsense. “Take them! We’ll be out of your hair.”

You thanked them before placing yourself neatly back onto the stool you’d occupied before. It was far too easy.

The bartender sent you a knowing look, all too familiar with your games, before going back to mixing a drink.

Moments later, you felt the presence of another behind you, an overwhelming smell of tobacco and pine assaulting your senses. He was taller up close, taller than Dazai, at least, and older than you’d originally thought. Deep wrinkles weathered his skin, his eyes, and though there was still a hint of black in his dark hair, it was slowly being overtaken by the signs of a life that was twice as long as yours.

“Pretty dress.” That was the first thing he said to you, letting his eyes wander over your chest, lips curling into an ugly smirk. “It suits you nicely.”

You wouldn’t be won over so easily, so you merely smiled at him, nodding in thanks. Though, that had him coming on twice as strong, as if the simple eye contact that you’d made earlier had been a full invitation to fuck you. He took the seat next to you, signaling the bartender over.

“Let me buy you a drink,” he said, and though it was a kind proposition, it always made you laugh. You received a million free drinks from strangers here.

Still, you shrugged and let him, unsurprised that he knew what you’d been drinking earlier. It was a clear sign that he’d been watching you since before you even got up to dance.

“What’s your name?”

“Should I give it away that easily?” Your voice was silky in your response, unimpressed, but luring him in, nonetheless.

He laughed, and offered you his own instead, Tanaka, as if you didn’t already know it. You’d been planning on springing him into this trap since the moment he’d arrived that evening. It was a target and a plan that had been set in motion for days.

His grin was uncomfortable, but he thought so highly of the way his lips curled, seemingly luring you in.

In reality, you weren’t sure how any woman could stand to get down on her knees for that.

Half an hour passed as you talked with him, preening under his endless string of compliments, wishing that you could string him on for a little bit longer. You enjoyed the words well enough, just another thing to stroke your ego, but the minute he moved closer, you inched away, placing distance between you before he could touch you.

It was obvious it frustrated him, but one look at the flash in his irises had you knowing that he enjoyed the chase.

He droned on, careless conversation about hobbies you didn’t want to understand, and though you smiled, pretending to be interested, your focus drifted to the table where Dazai sat.

His conversation had shifted to Chuuya, the two other men from earlier gone. It seemed strained between them, sharp words spoken as they glared at one another, visibly at odds about something.

Despite the clear dispute, anger cleared away from their expressions within seconds, Chuuya straightening like a board beside his boss once again.

Dazai looked up; it was less than a second that your eyes met, but your knees had weakened, heart stuttering in your chest as it skipped a pulse.

A soft exhale left you, and you longed for Dazai, craved the feeling of his strong palm on your skin, the kiss of his lips on your neck. You had half a mind to say fuck the mission and walk right over to the table and plant yourself on his lap.

It would certainly cause a scene, especially when there were so many new customers there who knew about Dazai but didn’t know about you.

Still, you knew Dazai wouldn’t object. He’d merely smile into your hair and curl his hand around your hip, continuing on with his conversation like nothing was out of the ordinary.

You looked away. If you were to make it through the rest of the night, you couldn’t get distracted by the beautiful man just feet away from you. “Sorry,” you said, turning back to Tanaka. “What were you saying?”

His interest in conversation had already waned, and he faced Dazai, displeased by the uptick of fascination within your expression. “Found someone more interesting already?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you pressed your palms into your thighs. You may have longed for Dazai, been so desperate that you couldn’t spare him another glimpse, but you could still play this role well. There couldn’t be another slip, every move had to be precise.

“I’m just curious,” you said, puckering your lips in a pout. “He looks important.”

Tanaka took a sip of his drink as you spoke, nearly spitting it back out when your sentence concluded. His eyes were hard, narrowing at the sight of Dazai just meters away, surrounded by a security of sorts, “You don’t know him?” He coughed.

You frowned, tilting your head. “Should I?”

“That’s Dazai Osamu. He owns this place.”

There was room for a theatrical pause. You took that moment to pretend to think. “Oh, of course. What a silly question,” you said, humming, and set your chin down on your hand to glance back over at the table of Port Mafia personnel. “I hear he owns a lot of things.” You tilted your head, gauging the man with siren eyes. “Is that true?”

Tanaka huffed, but he didn’t deny it, looking down at his two-million-yen watch like it was nothing more than a trinket. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t worry about him.” He seemed irritated, though he didn’t let it show, his voice the only indicator that you had upset him. “But I can tell you it sure gets hard to run a business in Yokohama when the Port Mafia owns half the city.”

You widened your eyes, leaning forward. “You’re telling me the Port Mafia owns this place?”

Tanaka laughed, loud and haughty, looking at you like you were just a poor idiot from the countryside, even if the dress you wore cost just as much as his entire suit put together. “Oh, hon, if only you knew.”

The condescending tone sent a screech through your entire body, momentarily halting any proper responses in your current act. But he was unfazed, already moving onto the next topic of conversation, telling you all about the business dealings that you’d known about from the long list of jobs within his file.

There was, truly, nothing about him that you hadn’t already dug up. It was boring you immensely, but you smiled on, nodding enthusiastically as he spun the most lackluster story you’d ever heard.

Dazai, across the room, stared at you as you conversed, clenching his jaw at the way the man eyed you, the gaze that scoured your body like you were nothing more than a piece of meat.

Oh, he would certainly enjoy tearing him apart later, even if he would be too easy of a case to break.

“When are we leaving?”

Chuuya’s voice snapped him out of his onlooking, and Dazai leaned back in the chair, shedding the tension in his shoulders to resume a comfortable position.

“Not until they’re both in the car and I can confirm with Tachihara and Gin that she’s safe,” Dazai said, crossing his arms over the table. He couldn’t forget that there were others around him, those who would never say a word to him, but knew who he was, knew what he stood for. Even here, he couldn’t let his guard down.

“Safe?” Chuuya laughed, though it was without any humor. His irises flashed dangerously, steely grey darkening into a deep silver. “You trust that idiot not to lay a hand on her? He’s undressing her with his eyes.”

Chuuya seemed intent on irritating him that evening, as usual.

“I don’t trust anyone who comes here.” Dazai scowled. “Don’t be a fool.”

A moment of silence lapsed between them, and Dazai became sickened by the way the man was eyeing you. Though you took it all in stride, leaning just far enough away so his knee didn’t graze yours, and his palm didn’t brush against your own, it still lit a fire deep within him.

It was all the better, he supposed, to feel such deep hatred for his enemies. It made it easier to tear them apart without any guilt.

“How long are you going to make her do this, huh?” Chuuya spoke up once more from beside him, his voice nothing more than a grumble as he whispered down to Dazai. “This charade you two are carrying on has lasted long enough. I mean, you’re whoring out your wife for fuck’s sake—”

Dazai reacted without a thought, despite not wanting to take his eyes off of you for even a second. He gritted his teeth and turned on Chuuya, his hand gripping the gun in his pocket, finger tight on the trigger. Enough of a warning for him to know how sincerely the simple comment irritated him.

“Don’t ever insinuate that I don’t love my wife, Chuuya, or it’ll be the last thing you ever say.” Dazai spat the words out carefully, just under his breath, holding Chuuya’s piercing gaze without blinking. “You may be a valuable asset to the Port Mafia, but I will not listen to your opinions on matters that don’t concern you.”

Chuuya stared, setting his jaw before turning away once more. The two of them looked back to where you were smiling, leading the other man out of the room, though still not touching, placing a respectable distance between you.

“I’m just surprised, Dazai.” Chuuya leaned back, crossing his arms as he titled his head, watching your figure fade into the shadows. “You love her so fiercely, and yet, you watch as this carries on time and time again. I don’t understand.”

Dazai stood from the booth, tucking the gun back into his waistbad, under his coat. He straightened his shoulders, inhaling deeply. “I think you’re underestimating her if you truly believe she doesn’t have a handle on the situation.” His hands slipped into his pockets as Chuuya followed, grumbling from just a few feet away. “Besides, I’ve never forced her into anything. It was her idea in the first place.”

“Why?”

Dazai sighed, though it was almost wistful, the mere thought of you enough to turn him into a lovesick fool. “Perhaps it is because there are many men that seem to think they can crawl into her bed so easily, and she enjoys their humiliation when they realize that they are so far beneath her.” Dazai shrugged, and smiled lightheartedly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Perhaps, she just wants to make everyone’s lives a little easier, including yours. You should thank her sometime.”

Tanaka sat beside you in the car, his hand lingering in the leather seat between his thigh and your own. Night had fallen deep across the city, the sky a navy through the haze of streetlights. Though it was nearing one o’clock in the morning, there were crowds of people out and about, lines at all of the much more affordable clubs in the area.

It hadn’t taken much to get him to come with you. You’d batted your eyelashes, smiled at him from under them, and told him you had a car waiting out back.

That was enough. When you’d pulled yourself down from the barstool, he’d followed after you, eyes blown wide as you’d begun leading him out of the room.

All it took was a dress that hugged your curves and a small grin, and he was in the car with a man that worked for you, heading to a building that your husband owned.

“Do you live far?” Tanaka asked, itching to put his hands on you, even though you’d convinced him to hold off until you got back to your room.

You placed your chin on the inside of your palm, glancing out the window at your own reflection. “Not too far.” You turned back to him, offering him a shy smile. “Why? Are you getting impatient?”

He grinned wolfishly. Your stomach churned anxiously at the sight of it, even when he was no match for you, nor all the other, powerful individuals that surrounded you. “I don’t think I need to answer that.”

Through the rearview mirror, Tachihara met your eyes, and they softened, just barely, silently showing his support from the front of the vehicle.

It was, in a way, a relief. You relaxed, regained a sense of composure, and let your ruby red lips spread over your teeth, cocking your head as Tanaka indulged himself in whatever fantasy was milling about in his mind. His eyes were cruel, though the darkness in them was nothing compared to what you were used to.

Idly, he made comments in your ear of all the things he wanted to do to you, his unpleasant breath tickling the skin there as you tried your best not to recoil. The smell of him was growing heavy in the car, overwhelming and nauseating. You sat even more stiffly, pressing Tanaka away with a palm to his chest as you giggled to yourself, pretending to enjoy his vulgar words.

Tachihara pulled the car around to the back of the building, letting the two of you out as he put it into park.

Any fool should’ve known where they were, what the dark building in the middle of the city stood for, but Tanaka was all too focused on you, intoxicated and inattentive. The mafia headquarters loomed overhead, dark, and unassuming, a triad of buildings stacked perfectly against one another.

“Thank you,” you said to Tachihara, winking at him as Tanaka turned his back, too disoriented to take in anything but the sight of you right before him.

The car drove away, then, and you were left to guide your guest into the building, towards the room that you had already planned to meet Dazai in. When you reached the elevator, Gin was waiting for you, dressed in female attire, this time, charading as a worker instead of the trained assassin that she truly was.

“Impressive building,” Tanaka said, as if not noticing all the obvious signs of the mafia base. “You must come from quite a wealthy family.”

You smiled at him over your shoulder, curious as to why he didn’t assume you’d come into the riches on your own. “I suppose you could say that.”

Gin opened the elevator, then began typing a message to her boss, alerting him of your arrival. Tachihara had taken the longest route back, giving Dazai just enough time to arrive home before you.

“Are you a renter?” he asked, staring as the numbers on the elevator increased, climbed higher while you went towards a floor that was only two below the penthouse.

“We own it.”

Tanaka turned towards you, eyes wide with surprise, perplexed even further by the alcohol running through his veins. “You didn’t say—”

Abruptly, he cut himself off. Whatever comment he was about to make was overshadowed by the fact that he’d met you at the Port Mafia’s night club. That was certainly no place for anyone that didn’t have a million yen to spare in their pockets.

Finally, the elevator dinged, and you relaxed at the sight of the familiar hall, the carpet that had recently been replaced, the paintings that you’d personally added, ones that had been purchased at an auction. There were traces of you everywhere, and though it belonged to many members of the mafia, it was, inherently, your home.

You grabbed Tanaka’s hand, realizing just how cold it was, wrinkled with calluses and dirtied nails. It took everything in you not to grimace as you pulled him towards the fourth door on the right, the one that had been used for every interrogation over the past two years.

It had become something of a holding cell for the mafia’s enemies, and most didn’t remain here long. You doubted that this man would be of any exception.

Tugging him along, you increased your speed, an invisible string guiding you right back to Dazai. He was your fiery beacon, and though you were still separated by walls, your heart thumped at being so near to him.

“Eager, are we?” Tanaka asked, and when he grinned in the lights, you realized how slimy it was, a hunger dripping off the edges of his yellowed teeth.

You smiled right back, but it was forceful, painful as it etched its way onto your cheeks. An itch started in the cracks of your palm, willing you to snatch it out of Tanaka’s hand and scrub it clean. Still, you held on, remembering that this was for the Port Mafia, this was for Dazai and everything you’d worked for over the years.Your determination increased tenfold. “It’s just around the corner.”

Finally, you reached the room where you knew Dazai would be waiting, and just like every other time you’d done this, every time you’d brought another willing victim into a den of wolves, you could finally relax.

You entered the room, not bothering to flip on any of the light switches. There was furniture, but it was dusty, bloody, and it would make it far too obvious that you were not leading Tanaka back to your bedroom. You didn’t want him turning tail too quickly, running when he discovered you had no intention of rolling around in the sheets with him.

He shut the door behind him with a quiet click, advancing on you like a hunter. It would’ve been threatening, intimidating perhaps, if you had not been able to sense Dazai on the other side of the wall. You knew that whatever control Tanaka thought he had on the situation had quickly evaporated, and it was only a false blanket of security that he’d wrapped himself up in.

“Can I get you anything? Maybe a drink?” you asked, stopping Tanaka with a flat palm to his chest, not allowing him to come any closer. “The alcohol in me is starting to wear off.”

He ignored your wishes entirely, upon you once more. One larger hand ripped yours from his chest, pulling you just another inch closer. “I’ve had enough tonight,” Tanaka said, teeth flashing in the dim starlight. “I’m dying to fuck you.”

You frowned, eyebrows wrinkling. “Well, I’d like a drink first.”

“I’m not in the mood.” He yanked on your hand again, and this time, you knew he’d kiss you, knew he’d plant the cracking pale lips of his own on yours. The thought of it made you ill.

Without thinking, you slung a fist across his face, a crunch sounding from his nose at the force of your hit. Blood trickled from one nostril, flowing in a fast stream over his lips, into his teeth.

He bent over, and you stood, straighter, staring over him as he cursed. The punch had been much more forceful than you’d intended.

“What the fuck.” He was angrier than before, and though his pain was immense, it did little to dissuade him. You kept your face hard, inching backwards as he stood tall, so much bigger than you’d remembered. It wouldn’t take much for him to lift you, throw you onto any surface he wanted.

You’d use your ability if you had to, kill the man if it was necessary, but that would mean the entire plan had gone to waste.

“You bitch—”

Without letting any fear cloud your face, you took a step back and bumped into something solid and warm. A cologne more familiar than Tanaka’s enveloped you in a safety net.

The older man made it one step further, aggressively, before every ounce of determination waned from his eyes. He staggered, tripping over himself and stared back at the man that had slowly come up behind you. The one that was brushing soft fingertips between your shoulder blades, his steady breath tickling the crown of your head.

Dazai smiled, in a way that was so menacing that your heart thumped twice in its chest before resuming its natural melody. Tanaka took a step back, scrambling away, nearly tripping over himself in the process, eyes dilated in fear.

“You,” he breathed. “Dazai—” Tanaka didn’t finish his sentence, too stunned as he stared between the two of you. “What’s going on?”

Dazai stepped forward, letting his hands fall away from you as he cornered the newest addition to his long list of enemies. Already, you missed the warmth of Dazai’s touch, the security that came with his proximity.

Tanaka cowered before him, suddenly so small, weak under the breadth of Dazai’s power. A sense of twisted satisfaction curled within you, lightning up every pore under your cold skin.

“I believe you owe my wife an apology,” Dazai said, and his tone was even, hard, not a hint of amusement laced within the words. Tanaka’s eyes darted to you, where you stood with your arms loose at your sides, eyes softer, every inch of you more delicate now that Dazai was in the room.

“Wife—” The word tumbled from his mouth before he could stop it, hesitant. “You said you didn’t know him. You asked me questions about him.”

You slid the ring back onto your finger, the one that you’d kept tucked away in the pocket of your bag. It glimmered in the beams of the moon, the diamond and rubies sparkling. “I can lie just as easily as a man can.” Crossing your arms, you sighed, and stared at Dazai’s taut back, the strained muscles in his shoulders as he stood over Tanaka. “You’re all so stupid sometimes. It only takes a simple question, and you never ask it. Anyone in that club could’ve told you who I am.”

He balked, considering his own ignorance, and followed your eyes back to Dazai, who had gone just a few steps behind you, to the small storage of top-shelf alcohol that you kept locked up in the room. “What is this about?” he asked, shaking his head to clear away his distress. “You’ve obviously brought me here for a reason. What is it?”

“I find it funny that you think you’re the one in control of the situation,” Dazai said, turning his back to fix himself a drink. He didn’t doubt that you would watch Tanaka for him with careful eyes. Even the smallest twitch of his eyebrows would be telling. “You don’t get to ask questions.”

“I haven’t done anything,” he said, and though his voice was hard, there was underlying panic. “I’ve stayed well out of the Mafia’s business, as promised—”

“Perhaps.” Dazai interrupted smoothly, coolly. “Our agreement wasn’t broken, per se. I just happen to think that working with outsiders is an act of much higher treason.”

Tanaka blinked, faltering. His jaw went slack, a mere second ticking before he replied. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t try to lie to me.” Dazai glanced over his shoulder, dark eyes narrowing. “I’m talking about Dostoevsky. The rats that are trying to take over my city.” He tsked, rolling the glass around on the counter, clinking it against the granite. Then, he popped a crystal bottle open, letting it fill a quarter of the glass. “Such a shame. You’ve built quite a name for yourself in Yokohama. Is this really worth losing all that?”

Tanaka stuck both hands in his pocket, shaking his head vigorously. His fingers flexed against his sides. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know who that is, I’ve never crossed anyone by that name.”

Seeing an opportunity while Dazai’s back was turned, Tanaka began to pull out a pistol from his coat; one you had, stupidly, forgotten to check for. It seemed he doubted that you were a threat, and if he could just kill Dazai, you’d be an easy target.

You moved without thinking, making the single-step distance between you and Dazai. There was a gun relaxed at his waistband, and you stole it, knowing exactly where he kept it hidden. Before Tanaka could point his own at the head of your lover, you’d acted first, aiming Dazai’s gun, your jaw tense and back straight. “Put it down.”

Tanaka, caught off guard, locked his jaw, and his fingers twisted tighter around the handle of the gun, inching towards the trigger. For a moment, he contemplated, but even without knowing the thoughts in his mind, you could read his actions.

You wouldn’t give him the opportunity to do as he wanted. Instead, you fired your own gun, digging the bullet into his fingers, shattering them, blood spattering as Tanaka dropped the pistol to the floor in a ghoulish scream.

For a second more, he writhed in pain at your own hand, once again. You held your arm taut, before letting the gun drop to your side as Dazai hummed behind you. Tanaka had fallen to his knees, tears welling up, his vision glossy as he dropped the maimed hand to his thighs.

Dazai came up beside you, smiling at you, and brushed his fingers down your arm. Slowly, he took the gun, placing it back into his waistband, his touch electric on every centimeter of your skin. “You’ve handled it beautifully, my love.” Dazai squeezed your hand, tilting his head so dark hair cleared away from his eyes. “I can take it from here.”

You nodded, and though Dazai was, by no means, pushing you out of the room, he could see how exhausted you’d become by the whole ordeal. If you wanted to leave—and you did—he wouldn’t object.

“Will you be long?” you asked, just a whisper over Tanaka’s heavy breaths of pain.

Dazai laughed easily, his breath ghosting the bridge of your nose. “Akutagawa will be here soon.” A touch lingered on your hands for a minute longer before he pulled away completely. “Then, I’m yours for the rest of the night.”

It was already late, but you’d take whatever time you could get with Dazai, even if you were drained. You nodded, and he turned away, going back towards his enemy, pulling Tanaka up roughly by his collar. Dazai’s expression changed into a man you almost didn’t recognize, if it hadn’t been for the moments that you’d had to see him shift into the underworld’s fearsome demon.

You left the room, yawning, Dazai’s voice the last thing you heard before you shut the door silently.

“Now that you’ve learned your lesson, perhaps you’ll be more willing to tell me everything you know,” he said.

Despite Dazai promising to leave once Akutagawa arrived, he’d been gone for nearly two hours, with no indication that he’d be returning anytime soon.

You waited for him in the penthouse of the Port Mafia headquarters, the home you’d come to know well in the past few years. A glass of imported wine was beside you on the nightstand, resting between a book you’d been too tired to read before bed.

You sat up, unable to fall asleep, and chewed your lip thoughtfully. It seemed ridiculous, really, for you to already miss a man that you woke up next to and fell asleep beside every night.

Still, you couldn’t help the desperation in your chest, the need to see him, to brush the mask of the Port Mafia boss away so Osamu could take his place.

You finished the wine, then headed towards the door. The room felt cold and lonely, and if Dazai wasn’t going to return soon, you’d just find someone else to bother on the lower levels of the building.

Though, just as you were about to slip on a pair of shoes, the door unlocked, swung on its hinges, and Dazai stepped through the threshold, a vision of gore and violence and every ounce the man you adored.

“Osamu,” you said, and even when you’d said his name a thousand times before, it still left your lips like a prayer. A smile formed, and you dropped your shoes, eyes sparkling, as you regarded the mess that he was in.

Dazai took one look at you and relaxed, shoulders falling as you closed the distance between the two of you. “Sorry it took so long, sweetheart,” he said, craning his taller frame down to kiss you.

You gripped the lapels of his coat, holding on tight as you pressed into him, deepening the kiss. Dazai’s bloody fingers cupped your cheeks, smearing red along your jaw, ruining your clean skin. Though, as you exhaled a sigh deep into his mouth, you couldn’t have cared less.

“I thought you said Akutagawa was going to take care of it?” you asked as Dazai released you, offering you a small, almost defeated smile.

He walked past you, towards the bathroom, feet dragging as he shrugged off his dark coat. Under the crisp top, his muscles were stiff, strained from all the stress. He wiped another hand over his face, doing little to clean up the mess of red that remained on his cheeks.

You followed him, trailing a few feet behind, feeling silly for wanting to cling to him so tightly. Yet, you couldn’t get enough of him, and you watched as Dazai remained silent, pausing in front of the mirror to regard his own appearance. He made a face in the glass as he gazed back into his own expression, sticking his hands under the faucet. The water ran in a steady stream, staining the sink a rose color as he scrubbed the blood from his fingers, his nails. There were parts of his bandages that had been soiled, and he ripped them right off, exposing pale wrists that hadn’t seen the sun in ages.

You mimicked his action, washing your hands in the second sink before scrubbing the blood from your face, clearing away the smear of maroon that he’d put there. The water shut off, briefly, and Dazai regarded you, frowning as you rid the evidence of his crime from yourself.

“I sent Akutagawa home.” Dazai finally answered your previous question and sighed, frustration evident. He stretched his hands over his head, the bones popping in one fell swoop. “Tanaka cracked right open; he really didn’t know anything.” He blinked at himself in the mirror once more, tidied his hair, then scowled. “He’s just a low man on the totem pole, and he paid for it with his life.”

Dazai seemed at odds with himself, and he drummed his nails against the countertop before patting his hands dry. The blood had been cleaned from his skin, and even though his hair was still unkempt, it was the only evidence that any wrongdoing had happened at all. Nothing but a speck of blood remained on his collar, the rest garnishing his coat instead.

You shifted, leaning against the counter. “Did you get anything out of him?”

“Names, a location.” Dazai clenched his jaw, fists tight at his sides. “He wasn’t lying, but who knows if they’re real or not. He could’ve been given fake locations. I’ve asked Ango to check on it.”

Dazai, once again, left you standing, contemplative, in the bathroom. You could hear him shuffle around in the other room; he released a small sound of relief as he stretched out his sore muscles.

When he’d finished moving around, you returned to the other room, and he was settled in the red armchair, legs spread out in front of him. Dazai rested his head against the back cushion, his eyes closed in serenity, a deep exhale expelling the tightness in his body.

It was almost a sight too serene to spoil.

“Do you want some space?” you asked, and though you’d always respect his wishes, that was the last thing you wanted to give him. You wanted to consume him completely, to press yourself against every crevice of his being and swallow him whole.

Dazai opened his eyes and blinked at you. Instead of replying, he smiled, slowly, and gestured to his thighs, sparing a glance at his knees.

Your heart pounded, launching its way up your throat, and you scrambled over yourself to crawl into his lap, straddling his thighs, the muscle strong beneath you.

Gently, he smiled at you, and brushed your hair over your shoulder to rub your neck. You let your arms rest on his shoulders, and slowly, you removed the bandage from his eye, hating whenever he tried to hide any part of himself from you.

You waited for him to protest, but he relented, and let you kiss his forehead, the very darkest parts of himself on display for you alone. It was hard not to collapse under the weight of your love for him.

You discarded the bandages, tossing them onto the table as Dazai tapped a pattern in the crevices of your skin.

For a moment, neither of you said a word. You noted every feature of his that you loved so dearly, and Dazai just watched you study him, tried hard not to smile against your lips when you kissed him.

If only he could see how beautiful he was, surely, he would understand that he deserved a life so much better than the one he’d been dealt. That someone with a smile brighter than a dying star shouldn’t have it taken away by years of endless anguish.

Finally, Dazai spoke, whispering your name in a tone he never used on any word but that one. “You don’t have to do this anymore if you don’t want to.”

“Hm?” you asked, tilting your head, so distracted by the endless galaxy within his eyes.

Dazai huffed, placing a possessive hand on your hip. His thumb grazed the bone and you shivered, smiling at him in confusion.

“Sweetheart, I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re obligated to do something just because you’re my wife.” He looked past you, an uncertainty beneath his words that he was ashamed of. “If you don’t want to take on any more assignments—"

“I told you already, Osamu,” you began, brushing the hair at the back of his neck that was hidden beneath the collar. “I don’t mind.”

“I know, but—” Dazai hesitated, his gaze steady on the doors behind you, the ones that led to your bedroom. Somehow, he seemed to think all the answers would be there, a script written out for him to recite to you. “Chuuya brought it up to me earlier. He said that I’m…” Dazai swallowed the words, shaking his head. “Look, it doesn’t matter. I just want you to promise me that you know if you want to stop, you can stop. Even if you wanted to quit the Port Mafia altogether, I’m happy to give you whatever you need.”

You smiled, kissing the wrinkle between his eyebrows in the hope that it would ease the anxiety in his expression. The tension was such an unusual thing for anyone but you to see, as Dazai had such trouble revealing his vulnerabilities to the world.

“I promise.” You swept your thumb over his lip, watching as it bounced right back into place, so soft and lovely. “I just don’t want to quit.” You leaned back on his lap, so you were able to see the entirety of his face.

Dazai’s eyebrows drew together once more, putting that worry right back on his appearance, and a part of you hated that of all the things he had to be stressed about, it was something as silly as you not wanting to quit your job.

“Why?” Dazai asked, tilting his chin, searching the depths of your soul for an answer that would appease him. “I don’t understand. You hate them; you tell me you hate them every time they try and lay a finger on you.”

He wasn’t wrong, certainly not about something like that. You loathed that men looked at you like you were something that they could just steal away, like they were entitled to the subtle way that they brushed your hip in passing, caressed your back when they walked behind you.

You just didn’t hate everything about the work you’d been doing. After all, it was your idea.

“I just don’t want to,” you said, looking over his shoulder to the open curtains, the bright expanse of Yokohama laid out before you. Twinkling star lights from skyscrapers and the port in the distance. “It doesn’t matter.”

It was your home, your city, and it always would be. You wouldn’t let Dazai die, wouldn’t let anyone take him from you—including himself. You’d continue to do whatever it took to protect that. Whether or not you used your appearance to achieve those ends didn’t matter. When it was all said and done, Dazai’s enemies would be dead, and you’d still have him to come home to.

“It matters to me.”

You shook your head, chewing on your lip thoughtfully. There were a million different ways you could’ve explained it, but none that were intelligent. “It’s embarrassing, ‘samu.”

Dazai laughed, a genuine noise, and kissed your shoulder as you sighed, relaxing into him once more. “I can’t think of anything about you that could possibly be embarrassing.”

You held his gaze, wishing for him to relent, to just give up and let you have this one. Instead, he just smiled back patiently, hoping you’d reveal another part of yourself to him as he slowly traced your hard collarbone.

Those pools behind his eyes were too distracting, the thumb on your neck dangerously close to your throbbing pulse. You swallowed, letting him feel every movement as your throat bobbed up and down.

“I guess,” you said shyly, “I like it. I like leading on your enemies, letting them think that they could possibly have a chance with someone like me. I like the look on their faces when they realize they’ve been made a fool of, that the girl who they wanted so badly belongs so completely to the boss of the Port Mafia.”

Dazai studied you for a moment as you shrugged the revelation off, his deep brown eyes darting over every crevice of your face. “You want to make them jealous of me?”

“Maybe.” Your cheeks heated, and though you’d been together for years, loved him for even longer, you still shied under the weight of your own desire for him. “I don’t know. Maybe I just want them all to know that I’m as much the boss of the Port Mafia as you.” You wound your arms around his neck, anchoring yourself to him, the only person you’d ever need in the dangerous world. “They’re blind to their desire, and they refuse to see that I have complete control over them.” You smiled, lazily, fondly. “Don’t they know that this is my city, too?”

Dazai’s strength made an appearance then, and he gripped your cheeks, holding you with a spiraled mix of possession and affection. “It is,” he whispered, ghosting his lips across your own, “and I’d burn it all down before I let anyone take it from you.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest at his deepened tone, the seriousness that drew on his normally playful inflection. You grew hot, and a twist of desire started deep within you, spreading down easily, slowly turning your thoughts into a muddled mess.

“I know,” you said, trying to keep your words steady as Dazai drew lazy circles up and down your sides. “Everyone knows.” You met his eyes, soft, yet dark, clouded with a longing you weren’t unfamiliar to. “The woman who brought them to their knees is still nothing more than a simple fool for Osamu Dazai.” You inhaled drawing your fingers to his open collar, the crisp bandages around his chest. “What could they ever do to deserve that kind of devotion?”

Dazai waited, watched your smaller hand run across his neck, his smirk slowly growing on his lips. “I’m a lucky man, indeed,” he said, drawing the words out slow and lazily. He tipped your chin down to him, his smile displaying the almost sharpened points of his canines. Slender fingers caressed your hipbone, pressing you farther down onto his thigh.

You let out a small sound, not taking your eyes off of his as his expression grew wily, and the slip you wore slowly began to rise up your thighs, exposing the softer skin of your leg.

“I admit, I can’t stand that everyone in this city wants you so fucking bad.” Dazai sunk his lips to your neck, kissing the space between your shoulder and jaw. “But I can’t blame them. My beautiful angel.” He smiled under your jaw, gripping your hips harder, forcing you to drag against his thigh. A puff of air left your throat as Dazai grinned, spiking your arousal. “It’s for the best, isn’t it? I’ve ruined you for anyone else.”

Your eyes flashed; Dazai bounched his leg, just once, his eyes shining, every move calculated. He’d always known exactly how to touch you, and he’d never forget, never stop enjoying the way you jerked so easily under his palm, the way you were already trying to rub yourself against him.

“Osamu,” you began, desperate for just a moment of friction, to feel his rigid muscle drag against your cunt. You wanted him so badly that your heart stumbled over itself, all the love you held, locked up there and looking for a way out.

He made a sound of disapproval, holding you still with a tight grip on your hips. His fingers dug into the bone, but it did little to ease your aching need for him.

“See?” Dazai’s kisses were light as he whispered against the shell of your ear, the sound nothing more than a breath of air. “I barely have to touch you and you’re a whimpering mess.”

You swallowed, tugging at the hair at the base of his scalp, trying to remain steady, if only for him to give you what you wanted.

Dazai seemed to be in a generous mood, worn from the previous mission, and he was grinning lazily, two fingers slipping under your dress.

His grip loosened, and you shifted, letting him pull on the strap of your panties, drag them down your thighs, over your knees, to discard beside the chair. Already, there was evidence of your desire, a spot of wetness obvious against the red satin.

He let the garment hang between his fingers before he looked back at you, watching as it softly fell to the floor. “If only they knew how easy it was to get you wet,” he said, shrewdly, “they’d want you twice as much as they did before.”

You let out a soft whimper, trying to direct his beautiful hands back between your thighs. Though, Dazai kept his fingers away, and in an act of desperation, you pressed your forehead to his, conveying every ounce of your affection for him.

“Osamu,” you breathed, blinking into his warm irises, a shade of brown that had easily become your favorite. “I’m so crazy about you.” You kissed his cheeks, smearing your lip gloss all over the skin he’d just wiped clean. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all night. Everyone in Yokohama watches me, but I ache for you.”

His eyes flashed, pleased, and he relented, nudging his thumb to the inner most part of your thigh. The smile was still mocking, but he gave you at least some relief; Dazai let you sink back down on his thigh, the pressure just enough to have you clawing your nails into his chest.

He kissed your nose, but kept you where you were, perched on the middle of his leg and much too far from his cock. “What would you ever do if I wasn’t here to take care of you, hm, darling?"

You softened; even if his gaze was taunting, there was utter devotion between his dilated pupils.

All those men who fell for your act may have been complete fools, but Dazai was even worse off than them: he was a fool in love.

“It’s so hard not to crawl into your arms every time you’re around,” you admitted, grabbing the buckle of his belt to undo it with a clank. The mere sound, the feel of the leather between your fingers, nearly had you salivating. “I’m stronger than a lot of men in Yokohama.” Your features contorted then, eyes vulnerable as you looked up at him through delicate lashes, no longer a vision of authority, but of someone who desperately wanted to be taken care of. “Not you, though.”

Dazai’s grip on you relaxed, and something in his eyes shifted, lips parting as an exhale left them. He said nothing as you removed the belt, and instead, let himself sink deeper into the cushion, bearing your weight.

Hastily, you pulled down the zipper of his slacks. The weight of his heavy cock in your hands was so familiar. You stroked him gently, watching for any reaction, and while his face remained steady, you could sense the change in his heartbeat.

“I don’t need you to be strong around me,” Dazai said. His voice had deepened, your name leaving his lips, raspy by the end of his sentence. “You can fall apart if you want to, my love.” His erection grew slowly in your palm, and he brought you closer, your bare, soaked cunt dragging against his thigh. “I’ll always be here to put you back together.”

You smiled, flushing as he hardened, his breath growing uneven. When you had him leaking within your palm, you shifted forward on your knees, grinning at his reddened cheeks. Dazai’s eyes drifted towards your chest, just inches from his face.

Uncertain, you hesitated, even though you wanted him, needed him with every fiber of your being. It was an unfamiliar position. He could take control of the situation at any moment, but you weren’t usually the one looming over him.

“Osamu—”

“What?” he released with a sigh, and in one swift motion, lifted your hips so he was positioned at your entrance. “You walk around my nightclub in those dresses I buy you, force those pretty tits into other men’s faces, but now you’re too shy to fuck your husband?”

You made a face, knowing he was just trying to get a rise out of you, and if only to prove a point, you sunk down on him, your folds slick. Dazai slid into you easily, a sinful noise breaking the silence between you as he grinned. “I’ll f-fuck you,” you stuttered, swallowing under the heat of his watchful eyes. “It’s just…” Your words failed again as his cock went deeper in you, your focus entirely on your own pleasure.

“Just what?” He stopped you for a moment, planting you on his thighs, his cock still straining, filling you. Glaring, vibrating with need, you opened your eyes, lips parting as he whispered against your mouth “Finish your sentence, sweetheart.”

“It’s not my fault, Osamu,” you said, on the edge of a whine, squirming within his hold. “I can’t help that they stare.”

He laughed, then, and it was just a brush against your swollen mouth, the one he kept coming back to. “They can stare all they want,” Dazai said, tilting your chin up. “As long as they know who you belong to.”

Finally, he let you go, his hands tracing the edges of your knees, and you started a slow, steady pace, gasping as you held onto his neck tightly. He bowed his head into your collarbone, and kissed you once, before leaning back lazily, watching you take and take and take.

“Doing so good, angel,” he said, watching you with such a passion that it was distracting, as he let his palms rest simply on your thighs. “You always look so pretty stuffed full of my cock, don’t you?”

“Feels so good,” you muttered.

“I know.” Dazai seemed too devilish with his dark hair fanned out against the red chair, grinning in a way that twisted up your insides, sweat beading down your forehead as you tried to reach your orgasm.

You were hot with his piercing gaze upon you, but he didn’t bother to move his hands, did nothing to even pretend like he was fazed. You sunk down faster, heart racing, as the muscles of your hips strained, burned. Already, you were growing tired, sleepy from a full evening, but still so desperate to come around him.

You leaned forward, trying to angle your body, gain some relief from the position. Though it did little, and instead you were left sighing in frustration, wishing that he would do anything, instead of just look at you with a lust blown smile.

With every moment, the pain began to grow, the ache in your legs far too much to give way to pleasure. You started back at Dazai, frustrated, eyes glossy with need.

Dazai laughed at you then; it wasn’t quite mocking, but it wasn’t kind either. “Don’t tell me you’re already tired.”

Frustrated and impatient as you dripped down your own thighs, you grabbed his throat, thrusting his head into the back of the chair.

Dazai, eyes wide with surprise, stopped smiling as you curled your hand around his neck, his fingers digging into your thighs.

“Are you just going to sit there, Osamu?” you said, your words high-pitched and desperate. “Or are you going to—”

The end of your sentence was cut off by him gripping the back of your hair, smashing your lips into his own. The hand on his neck fell away, drifting to the lapels of his bloodstained collar, as he brought you down hard on his cock, hitting a place deep inside you that you hadn’t been able to reach with your own strength.

Dazai’s fingertips left bruises on your skin as he devoured the inside of your mouth, bringing you down over and over, stretching your walls with each movement.

“So pretty and desperate for me,” Dazai laughed, but he was breathless, his own tenacity crumbling from adoration. “Can’t do anything by yourself, can you, baby?” His kisses were sloppy as he dragged them across your neck, tongue grazing the sharp vein under your ear.

“No, but you said—” you were losing your breath and your words. “You said you’d take care of me. I don’t want to cum all on my own, ‘samu.”

Dazai groaned, his gaze drifting down to the space between your bodies, where you were sucking him back in, your own body aligned with your heart, never wanting to let him go.

“Fuck,” he said, slamming you back down on his thighs, his eyes hazy with love. “Of course I’ll take care of you.” One hand guided your hips as the other curled around your jaw, setting the pace with half his strength. “You’re my whole world.” His words stuttered, aching cock twitching inside you. “I’m nothing without you, understand?”

You nodded, but you weren’t quite thinking straight, the words a jumbled mess when they entered your mind. “I love you,” you said, gasping the end of his name. “I love you, Osamu, need more.”

Dazai breathed, just as heavily, softening as he regarded you. He’d always loved the look on your face as you came apart. “You take it so well,” he said eyelids fluttering over hazy eyes, and he kissed your forehead. You dragged your hands all over his chest, just wanting to touch any part of him. “Wish you could see yourself. You’re so beautiful.”

You groaned, pulling him closer, until there was nowhere left to go, surrounded completely by Dazai; the smell of him, the taste of him. “Say it back,” you muttered, “say you love me too.”

He choked on a laugh, and the lewd sounds of your wet arousal were loud as he came in and out of you. “I love you, angel, you know how much I love you.” Dazai kissed you, then, and your heart sped at how hoarse his voice had become, how easily it was for you to make the most powerful man in Yokohama fall apart at the seams. “You’ve got a pretty ring to prove it, don’t you? I don’t want anyone but you. I never will.”

“Come inside me.” Your eyes squeezed shut as his cock reached impossibly deep within you, stretching you, your legs shaking as you tried to ignore the dull ache within your tense muscles. Tears sprang to your eyes, coating your lashes; it was almost devastating how much you loved him. “Please. Feel so full, ‘samu.”

“Yeah?” He reached between you to play with your clit, and you were so close, crying out a broken moan as he touched you. “Need to remind everyone that you’re my girl, hm?” He knew just how you liked to be touched, how easy it was to get you to come when he fucked you like you needed. “Want me to put a baby in you next, sweetheart? Shit.” He curled his fingers, bruising your mouth as he stole the oxygen from your chest. “Everyone would know then, wouldn’t they? How could they doubt you’re mine when you’re carrying my child.”

You cried out, then, breaking, spasming around his cock as you fell onto his chest. Dazai said your name, kissed the top of your head, but you were too full of love for him. You breathed heavily as he brought you down once more, twitching against him from the ache in your sensitive cunt.

A moment later, Dazai jerked, then came inside you, spilling his warm cum against your folds, the white ropes dripping down your thighs, staining his dark, wrinkled slacks. Slowly, he pulled out of you, letting you rest on his chest as you breathed, your legs sore. A gentle touch ran up and down your spine as Dazai wrapped his arms tight around you, his cheek resting against the top of your head.

“God, you’re perfect,” Dazai said, and his voice sounded almost broken, devastatingly emotional. “You can’t ever leave me, okay, angel? I need you right here by my side.” Lips grazed your temple, so sweetly, gently. “What’s the point of all this if I can’t share it with you?”

You smiled, resting your head in the crook of his neck, eyes full of tears as you kissed him. “I’m not going anywhere, Osamu. I promise.”

OCTOBER MASTERLIST - leave a comment on this post if you'd like to be added to the tag list

tag list: @satohruu (hannah i planned this one bc of your tags on my last pm dazai fic HDSFHSFH) @cha0thicpisces

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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months

Text

cherry

words: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ only! smut, stripper!reader, prostitution, protected blowjob, protected p in v sex

“that hot guy is back again.” sugar says, pulling back the curtain just an inch, pointing into the crowd.

“ugh, he is so fine.” you whine. “we never get hot guys in here.” it’s your number one problem with your new strip club, in a much different area than your last, therefore attracting a far different crowd, mainly, an older one.

“girl, i know. everyone wants to take him into the back.” sugar raises his eyebrows, knowing you share her proclivity for taking clients into the back rooms to get an personal “dance.”

“it’s gonna be a fight for who he picks.” you giggle, quickly closing the curtain when the strip club house mom walks into the backstage area.

“i know i’m going right to him when lapdances start, but so is every other girl.” sugar says, adjusting the bra she’s wearing.

“if he stays, remember he left after the shows last time.” you point out. he stayed for all the girls to do their solo shows, but by the time lapdances and duos and trios came out, he was gone.

“good point, cherry.” sugar nods, using your stripper name, which is always a bit of a shock when its the girls doing it, but you learned quickly here that its a sign of respect to keep your real name out of the workplace at this club, so you quickly adapted to only using stripper names.

“alright girls, music is starting!” the house mom shouts out. you are later on in the set, so you head back to your station and adjust your costume for the night, a cherry red number to fit your name, matching your nail polish and lipstick.

you wait until its your turn to go on, hearing the music play and waiting for the right beat to walk out, the club letting out a cheer as you strut onto the stage. the routine is an old one that you’ve done a million times, and your body easily works through the motions, running almost on autopilot, giving you time to look into the crowd, gauge the reactions, including the handsome guy everyone wants sitting forward, eyes intense.

you are out of breath and completely naked except for your heels as you walk back behind the curtain, pushing your hair back that got caught in your face.

“girl, shut the fuck up! hottie was totally into you!” lola says, her voice sounding excited, despite a couple of the other girls giving you a jealous look.

you pull your next lingerie set, the one you liked for lap dances as you shrug. you noticed that he was paying very close attention to your dancing, but you didn’t know that he wasn’t giving everyone else the exact same heated look.

“i think its only fair we let cherry at him first.” sugar suggests, and there’s a smattering of agreement from the other girls, which is enough to set it as a rule, you get to approach the attractive man before anyone else could take their shot.

it makes you excited for the individual sets to end as you make sure to touch up your lipstick and blot any sweat and oils from your forehead. you saunter out as soon as you are allowed, the last stripper still making her way off the stage.

your eyes immediately set sight on your target. “hello there, handsome.” you purr, watching as the handsome mans eyes slowly drag up your body. “can i interest you in a dance?” he smiles, a closed mouth smirk that conveys powerful confidence. he doesn’t even use his words, simply pulls a bill out of his pocket. you smile with all your teeth back at him, knowing they’re framed by your bright red lips as you tug at the waistband of your lacy panties, letting him slip the folded bill against your skin, fingers briefly brushing against your hip.

you turn around as the man sits back in his chair. you place your hands on either side of the arm, giving yourself some support as you lower your ass over his crotch, hovering and moving side to side, teasing before you finally press down, letting your ass roll over his crotch and thighs.

“you like that?” you ask with a smirk, but the man know he doesn’t need to answer, not when you can certainly feel his excitement growing in his pants.

you continue your lap dance for longer than usual, even parting your thighs slightly to give yourself some pleasure as well, hoping its not too noticeable for anyone watching, and you’re sure some of the other girls are staring in anger as they have to give lap dance to old drunk men.

you rise up before turning back to the man. “would you like another dance? a private one in the back?”

he nods, standing up to follow you as you lead him into the back hallway with various doors, cracked if they’re empty, and locked shut to indicate someone else had already been taken back. officially, your club is a stripclub, but its an unspoken rule that lapdance time also meant that dancer could take clients back for anything they wanted to do in private, and that money would stay solely with the dancers, not needing to give the bouncers or bartenders a percentage.

“whats your name, handsome?” you ask, gesturing him into one of the empty rooms, the lights already low, red velvet couches pushed up on either side of the wall with a small table in the center. the room is small, but plenty of space for just the two of you.

“rafe.” he answers with a smirk, hand coming to your waist, touching the bare skin there. “and money is no object so whatever we do, don’t worry, i can afford it.” he pulls a bill out his pocket to prove it, tucking it again into your panties.

“hot and rich, i like that.” you hum.

“is there anything thats not allowed?” rafe asks, fingers rubbing over your sides, clearly excited to get started.

“wear a condom. no hitting or leaving any sort of marks on my body. any hard kinks, you need to tell me beforehand.” you explain quickly, having gone over the spiel with other customers before.

“just wanna fuck you.” rafe smirks, his voice deep and alluring, making you for once feel yourself getting excited about sleeping with one of the clients.

“why don’t you sit down then?” you gesture to the couch. rafe sits down with the same smirk on his face, his arms resting on the back of the couch as you begin to dance, able to hear the music from the main lounge of the club, using it as your tempo as you move your body, slowly taking off your lingerie under rafes watchful eye.

you get yourself completely naked, all while rafe watches you with that same look on his face, clearly growing in his pants, his cock pushing against the zipper.

you kneel down between his legs, tossing your hair to the side while you rub over his cock before undoing the button teasingly slow, followed by his zipper. “so big.” you coo. it’s usually what you say to make your average sized customers feel better, but for once you mean it with rafe.

“gonna suck me, cherry?” rafe asks, your eyebrows raising slightly when you realize that he remembered your name from when it was announced on stage before your set. “get that pretty red lipstick all over my cock?”

you tug his pants down in response, taking his underwear down with it as you watch his cock spring free, already hard and pulsing with need.

“gotta put a condom on for oral too.” you remember suddenly, having gotten so excited you almost started sucking him without it.

“aw, come on, i promise i’m clean.” rafe says, his voice so sickly sweet you hesitate, but remember the horror stories of other strippers getting stds from breaking rules.

“sorry handsome.” you shake your head, grabbing a condom out of the bowl on the table before sliding it over his cock. you make up for the condom quickly by sinking your lips over his dick, the red lipstick transfering onto the condom instead as you suck.

“oh, thats good.” rafe moans, leaning back against the couch as you bob your head, his hands moving to your hair.

you work your tongue against his cock as you suck, pulling out all the skills that you’ve learned in your years of working in clubs. you resist the urge to smirk as rafe moans loudly, not afraid to have his noises of pleasure heard.

you nuzzle yourself against rafes abs as his cock slides down your throat, swallowing repeatedly to not gag as you deepthroat him. you go to pull off when rafe pushes you back down, his hips lifting to keep your lips pressed against his pelvis.

you flutter your eyes closed and breathe for your nose as rafe pumps forward, lifting his hips off the couch to fuck his cock down your throat. you hum, creating vibrations around his dick while rafe grips your hair, tugging you down to meet his thrusts.

you are about to tap out, needing to take a real breath when rafes cock throbs in your mouth and pulls you off, your scalp burning slightly from rafe using your hair to tug at you.

“god, you’re good, i was about to cum.” rafe groans, relaxing back into the couch as you’re still kneeled below him, wiping away the spit that has fallen down onto your chin.

“how do you wanna fuck me?” you ask, standing up over rafe.

“hands and kneels, cherry.” rafe stands, shucking his pants off of where they are pooled around his ankles.

you climb onto the couch, arching your back to present your ass to rafe. he rubs his hands over your bum before rubbing his fingers through your folds, surprised to find how wet you already are.

“you're actually turned on, huh?” rafe smirks, taking his cock and rubbing it through your folds.

“yeah.” you whine, trying to push your hips backwards, to get him inside of you.

“damn cherry, you're acting like you're the one paying me here.” rafe laughs, and you know you should be more professional, and maybe you would have if rafe would have asked you to ride him, but being bent over the couch, waiting for his big cock to enter you has you actually turned on for the first time when with a client.

“come on.” you moan, arching your back to present your cunt to rafe, which finally has him satisfying your wishes, sliding forward as his cock stretches you open.

“fuck.” rafe groans, instantly snapping his hips forward, slick sounds echoing around the empty room as he moves.

you finally remember that you’re the stripper here and begin to push your hips back onto him, meeting every one of his thrusts. as soon as you start to move, rafe grabs onto your hips to help out, slamming your bodies together.

“such a pretty pussy, cherry.” rafe says, hands squeezing your hips, just gentle enough to not leave bruises.

“such a big cock.” you compliment right back. “feels so good in me.”

“yeah, you like this big dick, huh?” rafe smirks, moaning when your cunt clenches down on him. you’re determined to make him cum quickly, despite not wanting it to be over any time soon, you also want to impress rafe and show off your skills.

you spread your legs a little more and press yourself forward so you can sink down onto your elbows, giving rafe a whole new angle, which you can tell he likes from the groan that escapes his lips.

“so good for me, gonna have to come back here and fuck you more often.” rafe says, hips grinding into your ass.

“yeah, yes, please.” you whine out, reaching between your legs with one hand to rub at your clit, knowing you shouldn’t worry about yourself and just focus on rafes pleasure, but your clit is pulsing and begging to be touched as you massage it.

“such a dirty whore.” rafe says, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

rafe continues to fuck you hard while you get yourself closer to the edge, surprised how easily your high is building as rafes cock pumps into you.

“you close cherry? can feel you clenching round me.” rafe asks, sliding his hands to your ass, grabbing your cheeks and spreading them open, using the grip on your bum to continue to pull your hips back onto his cock.

“yeah, real close.” you moan, making sure to exaggerate your noises, hoping it would spur rafe along, and it does as he starts to moan incessantly, panting out a mix of curse words and your stage name.

“gonna cum.” he manages to warn seconds before he releases inside of the condom, grinding his hips into you as it triggers your own orgasm, fingers rubbing speedily as you cum, slumping into the couch as shivers rack your body.

rafe keeps himself lodged inside of you until your highs are thoroughly rode out. he pulls out with a groan, not able to help himself as he brings a hand to smack your ass, not hard enough to leave a print despite your no hitting rule, but you let it slide, especially as your wetness drips onto the couch.

“did i wear you out cherry?” rafe smirks, taking the condom off and tossing it into the trashcan before getting his clothes back on.

“fuck yeah you did.” there’s no use denying it, rafe can tell by the way you’re still breathing heavily.

“can you hand me a towel.” you point towards a small rack by the door that rafe hadn’t noticed before, clean towels stacked neatly on it. rafe grabs one of the washcloths, stepping over to you as you manage to turn yourself to sit upright on the couch.

“let me, yeah?” he kneels down, one hand gently rubbing at your thighs while he wipes your fluids away from your cunt, cleaning you off with surprising gentleness.

“thanks.” you mumble as rafe tosses the cloth into the trash as you redress in what little clothing you were wearing.

“how much?” rafe asks, pulling out his wallet as you collect the money that fell out of your waistband when you stripped for him.

you rattle off the number as rafe opens his wallet, pulling out more than enough to give you a generous tip, but he’s clearly not hurting for cash.

“do you go on again tonight?” rafe asks as you tuck the money into the cup of your bra.

“yeah, i’ve got one more number.” you nod as you head towards the door, opening it for rafe.

“i’ll stay just for you then, cherry.” rafe says, walking out the door past you with that signature smirk.

you feel your cheeks blush slightly as you watch him saunter down the hallway and then take his same seat as you rush backstage.

“tell me everything!” sugar shouts.

“oh my god,” you flop down on one of the couched, muscles still tired. “he is BIG.”

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bratkook · 4 months

Text

deep six: dancing with death. (m) jjk

part one. part two. v-day drabble

pairing. biker!jk x reader genre. smut, fluff warnings. infidelity (but its ok i promise), protected s*x, oral, jungkook is kinda whiny and that itself deserves a warning, they're just fluffy and mushy and love each other they just dont know it yet word count. 12.2k summary. you've always known to stay away from the tombstone patches, told they were the enemy, that you'd be betraying your club if you chose not to listen. but an unsuspected friendship makes you think that maybe not everyone was as bad as you were made to believe. author’s note. hihiiii, this is a prequel to the deep six series! aka how jungkook and oc start their friendship and have it blossom into what it becomes in part one of deep six. i truly love these two so much, something about their forbidden love and how jungkook is tough and dangerous but oh so sweet to her makes me fucking melt!!! ok hope u enjoy it bye ily muah

The world is a constant blur, days merging, memories hazy and bleeding together in your mind. The only time you enjoy the blur is now, sitting on your bike as you flow through the streets. Exiting Cobra territory made you feel free, the streets widening up the further you got, allowing you to cruise without the fear of getting swiped by a careless driver.

Your eyes fall shut briefly, taking a slow breath as you try to push the earlier feelings away. Minho was having a bad day, a deal he had hoped to make to start running ice falling through, the man in charge deciding to go with a neighboring club instead. It wasn’t your fault the man thought Minho was too hot headed and messy to not find a way to mess this deal up, wanting a club with more reach, more connections and reliability than the Cobras could offer. That didn’t stop Minho from treating you like it was your fault, doing what he did best before barking orders at you to go for a run, desperately needing alcohol to drown his emotions.

The earlier fear still rattles you, leaves your fingers trembling slightly as they clutch the handles and accelerate. He couldn’t hurt you here, and that's all the comfort you need at the moment, finally pulling into the familiar parking lot of the bodega. There’s a few cars parked inside, a lone scooter tossed by the sidewalk, and a shiny black bike parked by the entrance.

You eye it for a moment, always checking for visible tags that let you know if the bike belonged to a club that had the Cobra’s high on their hit list. It’d be easy to act dumb if it was, no identifying items on you, knowing better than to roam the streets without Minho with a serpent stamped on you.

When you find nothing you decide it’s fine, knowing you were on a time crunch to get what he wanted. With another slow breath you step off your bike, already feeling your earlier nerves fade away as you enter your comfort space. It seems odd to consider it one, but something about the buzzing fluorescent lighting and peeling laminate made you feel like an individual.

Music plays through a portable speaker by the cashier, the worker greeting you with a smile that you return before you turn down your favorite aisle. That’s when you spot him again. The Deep Six member in the same spot he was in the last time you saw him a few weeks ago. It had been a close encounter then, not realizing who he was with your boyfriend standing outside. But his arms are revealed to you now, markings on his skin making it clear what club he belonged to, leaving no room for confusion. If that somehow wasn’t enough the giant patches on his vest and the glimmering rings on his fingers spell it out, literally.

You approach him slowly, not sure if you trust him but not fully on edge like you were before, knowing Minho’s watchful eyes weren’t observing your every move. Without the ticking bomb a few feet away you allow yourself to slightly relax in the presence of him, assuming he had no idea who you were, clearly too focused on his candy selection.

Sure you were on a run for Minho but you always pick something up for yourself. A small smile is already on your lips as your eyes land on the sour straws, ready to pick your flavor of choice, only to find it completely empty. Instantly you know the culprit is the man next to you, remembering the way you had reached for the same candy last time you saw him here by chance, and as you turn to stare at him you see his palms cradling four packets of the sour straws, a teasing smile on his face as he meets your eyes. Greedy.

“Sorry,” he breathes out, sounding anything but, trying desperately not to laugh and failing as he makes his way to the front to pay. You don’t even respond to him, admitting defeat as you settle on the green apple flavored ones before you return to your earlier task, finding a case of Minho’s favorite beer and paying for it.

The heat welcomes you once more outside, loading up the beer and candy into the saddlebags on the side of your bike, already forgetting about the candy thief from inside.

“Hey, Snake!” A voice cuts through the air, making you freeze as you search for it, finding the Six standing by the shiny black bike you had spotted earlier. He reaches into his pocket, still smiling as he pulls out the blue raspberry sour straw packet, tossing it your way with ease.

You catch it with both palms, momentarily stunned at the small gesture and at the fact that he clearly knew you were associated with the Cobras. The rumble of his engine snaps you out of it, smiling slightly as you look up at him once more, a breathless thank you escaping your lips before he is smiling back and peeling out of the parking lot.

When you live the life you do, constantly on edge with a paranoid boyfriend questioning everyone’s intentions, it's hard not to let his way of thinking affect your own. Even as you sit back at the clubhouse, holding onto that packet of candy, you can’t help but wonder if maybe the Six’s seemingly sweet gesture was a trap. Maybe he was testing to see how gullible you are, stupid enough to interact with him, to use you to send a message to the Cobras. It wouldn’t be the first time. Minho’s reign made you an easy target, knowing you had a lot of enemies that would love to make a lesson of you.

It's been so long since anyone has shown you genuine kindness with no strings attached, and as you finally enjoy your treat, you can’t stop the warm feeling of hope in your chest that maybe not everyone was as bad as you were made to believe.

You don’t return to your comfort space again until two weeks later, on another run for the club. Minho seemed to think if he gave you pointless errands to run you’d be satisfied, content with the loveless relationship and mundane everyday life. It was his way of keeping you on a leash, making you follow orders and letting the lead slacken up, only tightening it back up to remind you he was all you had. But you’d take the small moments of peace wherever you could get them.

The lot is empty today as you pull in, the only car belonging to the worker inside. The moment of solitude only lasts for a minute, a loud rumble cutting through the air as another bike pulls in beside you. You tense up immediately, whipping your head to assess the situation, spotting the familiar Six too lost in his thoughts to realize you were here. He furrows his brows as he takes off his helmet, adjusting the large rings on his fingers before he glances your way, jumping slightly when he notices it's you.

You eye him curiously, hands coming up to the key in the ignition, ready to start it up and tail out of here if he made a move. Minho had made a claim of some other club trying to ambush a deal earlier today, an unlucky hangout being the only one hurt, but without an identifying patch it left him on edge more than normal. So far the Six didn’t make you feel like you had to be wary, but you couldn’t be so sure.

He seems to sense it, his arms raising up in surrender as he stays on his bike. “It’s okay snake, I don’t bite.” He smiles at his own stupid remark, but it slowly falls off his face when he sees the stoic expression remains on yours. “Seriously though, I’m just here for some smokes and a treat. I can go somewhere else if it really makes you this uncomfortable though.”

“Why aren’t you somewhere else to begin with?” you bite back, still not trusting that he wasn’t trying to trap you.

Jungkook just sighs, hand coming up to ruffle up his helmet hair. “It’s nice to get away sometimes. This is neutral grounds, you know as best as I do that anything club related done here is a death wish.” He lets you process his statement, seeing the way you continue to eye him, your gaze tracing along the patches he wears. The large tombstone taunts you, torn and a little rugged on the edges, showing just how long he’s been wearing it. “Why aren’t you somewhere on your side of town?”

You purse your lips, looking away from him as you pull your hand away from your key, getting off your bike, deciding this conversation was better to have inside your little safe space. “Like you said, it’s nice to get away sometimes.” You hook your helmet over your handle, reaching the bodega’s door and holding it open as you look back at him. “You coming?”

He seems to snap out of it, quickly hopping off his bike and jogging your way, saying a quick greeting to the worker before going down the familiar aisle. He smiles when he sees you next to those damn sour straws.

“Those must be your favorite huh?”

You give him a quick glance, seeing the smile on his lips before you turn back and grab a packet of the candy. “They are, so try not to take all of them at once again.”

He lets out a soft laugh, reaching forward and grabbing a couple of the same. “I gave you one last time, which says a lot because I don’t really like sharing.”

“A Six that doesn’t like sharing? That’s not surprising.” Your words are light, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you turn around and continue roaming the aisle.

“Not as surprising as a Snake trying to tell me what to do.” The crinkling of plastic fills the store as he rips open his packet, taking a bite of a sour straw as he tries to hide his own smile when you give him an eye roll.

“I’m not technically a Snake,” you mutter out, finger tracing along the chocolate bar you were contemplating grabbing. It wasn’t a lie, you didn’t wear the patch, you weren’t granted the perks of being a part of the club, nothing you said held any weight on the decisions they made. You weren’t a Cobra, you just belonged to one of them. Though that didn’t seem like the wisest thing to tell him, you knew the history between Deep Six and the Cobras, and telling him you belonged to Minho of all people would put you high up on his list of people to hurt if he had bad intentions to begin with.

“Oh? You just like to hang on to the back of one then?”

“Something like that,” you sigh, deciding not to grab the extra treat, turning to look at him fully once more. “Are you gonna keep calling me a snake?”

His tongue prods along his cheek as he looks down at you, eyebrow slowly cocking up. “What would you rather I call you?”

“Y/N.”

He nods slowly, letting your name settle into his mind before he was reaching his hand out, the golden glimmering rings spelling out SIX shining in the light. You eye his hand for a minute before grabbing it in a gentle handshake, seeing the way he smiles before saying his own name.

“Jungkook.”

Jungkook was proud of his club, wore his patch with pride, did everything he could to show his loyalty. So why was he starting to tell white lies to his brothers, making up excuses to justify why he was going to the bodega on neutral grounds directly after finishing a job. He knew what would happen if they knew who he was talking to, slowly befriending. His only rational excuse was the fact that you had said you weren’t technically a Cobra, and although he’s not sure how well that would hold up to the rest of his members, it was the only excuse that helped ease his guilt.

He was currently sat on the small sidewalk outside of the bodega, elbows leaning on his knees as he glanced around the empty lot. You had been meeting here once every week or so. He had started to take note of the typical times you’d be sent on runs of your own, choosing to coincidentally run into you at the same time. You had yet to arrive today though, leaving him waiting for fifteen minutes, wondering if maybe you wouldn’t be showing up today.

Just before he decides to head out, you pull into the lot on your Dyna, a smile on your face when you spot him sitting on the sidewalk like a child.

“You’re late,” he calls out, grabbing a packet of candy and tossing it your way when you get off your bike and head towards him.

“Sorry, I wasn’t aware we had a time set for our little play dates.” You open up the candy, taking a bite and shutting your eyes at the sour taste. Jungkook laughs at your expression, patting the sidewalk beside him for you to settle into.

“I can’t be left unsupervised, you should know this by now.”

You laugh now, taking a look at the bodega and the surrounding area. “Nothing seems to be destroyed, I think you do just fine unsupervised.”

He leans back on his palm, raking back his dark hair as he stares into the sky in thought. “I tend to cause psychological damage, not too big on destroying property.”

“Got it. So you torture people?”

Jungkook chuckles, turning to look at you slightly, a small twinkle of mischief flashing in his eyes as he smiles. “Exactly.”

You can only laugh, not exactly sure how truthful he was being with his little joke. The both of you made an effort to not discuss the intricacies of your clubs, not entirely sure what it was that you both did for them, knowing things would get too messy and tangled up if you did. Instead you talk about yourselves, knowing small anecdotes of each other’s childhoods, recounting stories of when he took a few tumbles on his bike when he was just starting to learn to ride, ones of you before the life of the Cobras was all you knew.

It was a brief moment of normalcy, being able to talk to someone else, laughing over dumb jokes while sharing candy. It made you forget how twisted all of it was until you returned back home.

Jungkook just appreciated having a new friend, someone to talk to about things that didn’t have to do with his club. He just wished he could talk to you in moments that lasted longer than the brief bodega hang outs. So as you both finish up, loading up your bike with the items you were told to come pick up, he takes a leap of faith.

“Hey, can I—uh. Can I have your number?” He looks uncharacteristically shy as he asks this, one hand rubbing along the back of his neck. “To arrange our play dates,” he adds jokingly, a small smile on his lips in hopes of softening the blow of potential rejection as he reaches for his phone and hands it over.

You freeze instantly, staring at his device as the voice in your head tells you not to, screams that this would get you in trouble. But the hopeful look on his face is enough to shut it up, grabbing his phone with a nod. “Sure, but uhm, I can’t text often.”

His brows furrow slightly at the tone you use, watching the way you type in your number and text yourself. Something about it made it seem like you were nervous, and the only thing he can assume is that the people you were around would grow curious over who you were texting.

“Why? Scared your Snake friends would be pissed that a Six is texting you?” His tone is playful, but as you hand him his phone back, the look on your face makes his smile slowly fade away.

“My boyfriend, specifically.”

Jungkook feels his heart drop at the revelation. He knew you were most likely involved with a Cobra, having seen you the first time you met on the back of one’s bike—more specifically, Minho’s bike. He had just assumed you were Minho’s chosen girl for the day, but if you were mentioning a boyfriend now, Jungkook could easily piece together who exactly that is.

The third cardinal rule of his club replays in the back of his mind, “Never get involved with a Cobra”. It makes his head hurt, desperately trying to find a deeper excuse, a loophole to allow this to continue. It shouldn’t mean anything, you two were just friendly, barely even toeing that line as it was. But just knowing you were spoken for, by the leader of the Cobras especially, made the guilt he already felt for speaking to you get worse.

But he does his best to shake it off, drowning out his thoughts as he takes his phone back and shrugs.

“We’re just two people who share a love for sour straws, but if it makes you feel better you text me whenever you want.”

You don’t text him for a while, the fear of your tiny little secret being exposed keeps you from responding to the text you had sent yourself from his phone. There was also the small feeling of guilt festering in your stomach, feeling like you had lied to him by keeping your relationship a secret. All he had assumed from the get go was that you liked to hang around Cobras, but you noticed the way his face had changed when you mentioned a boyfriend, and you can only imagine how he’d react if you told him your boyfriend was the leader of the Cobras.

You find yourself staring at your device any chance you get, hidden in the bathroom of your place, lounging on the couch in the clubhouse, until you finally get the courage to send the first text. It makes your heart race, saving his number under your best friend's name, changing the emoji at the end so you know the difference, going as far as putting his messages on do not disturb. Clearly hiding, keeping him a secret.

Jungkook knows it's wrong, because he’s keeping it a secret too. But once that first text was sent, they never stopped. He responds when he has time in between club duties, knowing you’ll reply when you get a moment alone. Your messages are short, random conversations that never crossed any lines, but he meant what he said, taking full advantage of having your number to coordinate your play dates.

The guilt you feel slowly fades away with each passing day, becoming comfortable in your ways as you let him know what days you’ll be on that side of town, and before you know it, your hang outs become your favorite thing. You slowly start to consider Jungkook your friend, another rare slice of peace in your messy life. It makes you feel like your younger self, excited to speak to a cute boy and laugh until your cheeks hurt.

And it should make you feel icky to have these thoughts about someone who wasn’t your boyfriend, but your relationship with Minho had been romantically dead for years now, not able to remember the last time he did something for you that didn’t solely benefit him. So you choose to enjoy the small flutters in your stomach that occur around Jungkook, allowing yourself to sit closer to him each time, friendly touches beginning to get more courageous while still toeing the line.

Jungkook doesn’t mind it, he thought you were pretty and would let you trace the patches on his jacket or analyze his tattoos up close if that's what you wanted. You were the one with a boyfriend, who was he to tell you what was right or wrong for you to do, he wasn’t one to judge or pull a morality card on you considering the things he does in his club. It was all mostly innocent anyways, even now as you stand a good few feet away from each other, respective candy in each other's hands, attempting to toss them into your mouths.

It was innocent.

“God, your aim is horrible!” you laugh out, feeling the candy hit your forehead and bounce right off.

“What are you talking about? That was a clear headshot.” He has that charming smirk on his face as he says it, tongue flicking against his lip ring while he laughs too.

“You’re not trying to kill me Jungkook, we’re trying to see who wins first.” You swat the remnants of sugar off your face as you reach into your own bag for a piece of candy, motioning for him to be ready. He gets into position, slightly bending his knees and angling his head back with his mouth open, ready to catch whatever you throw. With a small snicker you grab four small pieces of candy, aiming right for his face with one eye shut and sending them flying. Jungkook is totally unsuspecting until suddenly, he’s being pelted all over his face, his eyes squeezing shut at the shock.

“Dude,” he laughs, eyes finally opening up to spot you cackling away, perfectly content at your little stunt.

“Okay, okay sorry. For real this time. I got it, I can feel it in my bones.” Jungkook should tell you no, say you wasted your turn and deliver payback, but you look too happy right now for him to do anything but smile and nod as he gets back into position once more. He sees the way you bring your hand close to your face, shutting one eye to try to aim, tongue slightly poking out in concentration before you toss the candy across a few feet of distance.

Jungkook doesn’t even register that the candy successfully landed in his mouth until you’re gasping in shock. That’s when his eyes widen, his mouth shutting as he begins to chew, standing up straight and feeling his heart start to warm at how proud you look at having beat him. He closes the distance between you, extending a hand out for a high five that you gladly give him.

Now that you’re closer, you see all the sprinkles of sugar on his face. It dusts along his cheekbones and the top of his nose, looking like small freckles on his skin. You give him an endearing smile as you cup his face and swipe it away from his skin. You do it without thinking really, tips of your fingers gently flicking away the evidence of your tiny prank.

Jungkook’s chest tightens at the soft gesture, eyes wide as he watches you, too scared to move, almost like it would startle you or make you come to your senses and remember he was a Six. He chooses to just focus on how soft your hand feels against his cheek, how sweet you sound when you say he looks like a mess, your eyes filled with what he hopes is the same adoration he has as you look up at him, a lot closer than you need to be.

Jungkook knows all the sugar is gone now but you’re still there, thumb rubbing along his cheek, tracing the scar under his eye while your gaze lands on the piercing on his lip. He holds his breath when you look up at him once more, and maybe it's his wishful thinking but he swears the way you look at him tells him to make a move, so he does. Slowly at first, wanting to give you a chance to deny his advances, but you meet his lips before he can close the distance himself.

The innocence is gone now. Jungkook had felt something brewing with each of your interactions, chalking it off to pure friendliness, but he knows a small spark had been lit the second you started speaking to each other.

The kiss burns, the guilt and betrayal to his club clawing at his mind but he doesn't care, welcoming it as he deepens it, sliding his hand into your hair and focusing on the way you let out a soft breath as he does so. It makes your mind spin, your hands gently looping around his neck to bring him closer. You don’t have time to think, too enveloped in the way his piercing feels against your lips, how his fingers softly rake through your hair, how he takes a deep breath when you kiss him back harder.

It's brief, a small moment of weakness led by temptation, but you can’t deny how you both feel exhilarated, wide eyes and smiles on your faces when you pull back. "You taste like candy," you giggle.

“Your favorite,” he mumbles, still close enough to nudge the tip of his nose along yours. His voice is low as he lets reality settle, slowly inching back, his eyes meeting yours and seeing the small clouds of panic start to form around you. Reality seems to be hitting you too, fear of what would happen to him if Minho ever found out, or what would happen to you if he even had an inkling. A small harmless crush had just passed over into dangerous territory.

“Hey,” Jungkook starts softly, hand gently coming to rest on your shoulder to bring you back to the present. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“No, but it does,” you groan. It did mean something, it didn’t matter how small it seemed, but you know the kiss meant something. Your small panic had nothing to do with being unfaithful, you knew Minho cheated on you with any girls who were willing to show their loyalty to the club, and if it kept him off of you then you didn’t mind it. You were scared to put Jungkook in danger. “It means something and my boyfriend’s crazy, he’ll kill both of us if he finds out.”

“I know he is.” He shrugs, looking directly at you, seeing the shocked look on your face at his admission.

“You know what?” you whisper.

“I know he’s a psycho. I kind of put two and two together when you mentioned a boyfriend. It is Minho right?” When you nod slowly, still unsure how to respond he just continues speaking. “But look, I know. All of it. I know I’m not supposed to be speaking to you, let alone kissing you and enjoying it, but it happened. I know it’s wrong, that I should feel bad and I don’t, but I also know where my loyalties lie within the club and what rules I’m willing to bend. If you’re saying it means something, then it does.”

You can only stare at him, feeling the clouds of panic start to fade. “But I'm telling you, I know what's at risk and I won’t be using it to harm you.”

“I mean…it is both our asses on the line,” you mumble out, still feeling his hand on your shoulder. He smiles at your words now, making you slowly smile back.

“So, we’re taking it to our graves?” His voice is light again, the playful tone you were used to back. When you nod he smiles wider. “Cool, should we kiss on it?”

Jungkook laughs when you shove his shoulder with a cackle, rolling your eyes as you step back, walking back into the bodega to get what you came for. “You’re so unserious. Get away from me.”

The issue with this imaginary line being crossed is that it leaves you thinking “what’s next”, constantly wondering just what else you could get away with. One kiss shared turns into two which turns into five, given so casually it feels like second nature. It seems like both of your guards have dropped now, more at ease with each other, touches getting as bold as they could in public.

“Are you sure my skin isn’t gonna burn off?” you joke, laughing when Jungkook gives you an eye roll. His jacket is in his hands, shaking it off before he’s swinging it around your frame, helping you slide your arms into it. He had jokingly said it would swallow you whole, and you honestly just wanted an excuse to be closer to him so when he suggested you try it on you couldn’t deny him.

“You might burst into flames, so just drop and roll baby.” He snickers when you playfully glare at him. Jungkook looks down at you with a smile, his hands smoothing the collar before he’s taking a step back to admire how the large leather jacket looked on you. The patches cover the arms and back, his first initial, last name and rank displayed over the left breast pocket, something your finger comes up to trace absentmindedly.

“I don’t know, the jacket suits you. You sure you don’t wanna become a Six?”

“Very funny Jungkook. They’ll be putting a Cobra on my tombstone when I’m dead.”

He waves you off, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. “Let me live in my fantasy world, yeah?”

“Your fantasy world involves me being a Six?” you giggle, looking up at him with a sly smile.

“Don’t kink shame me. Now smile for the picture,” he sings out, bending down as he extends his arm out, ready to take a selfie. You had yet to take photos of you both, too scared to be caught by Minho, but you allowed Jungkook to document your newly formed friendship as much as he wanted, knowing he had less to worry about when it came to snooping.

Your arms wrap around him, the tombstone patch on display as you both smile widely for the picture. He looks at it with a cheeky grin, mumbling out how cute he thought it was before putting his phone away.

“Do you need the usual for your run today?” he asks, knowing Minho always had you stocking up his alcohol.

“Not today. I’m technically supposed to be locked inside our place. A few Cobra’s headed out of state this morning for a meeting.”

Jungkook hums, having briefly heard of an arms deal happening out of state, he just hadn’t been aware it was the Cobra’s doing. “Why didn’t you go with?”

“Too risky.” You lean back against the textured wall of the building, still cozy in his jacket. Minho loved to have you right by his side at all times, so if he said it was safer for you to stay here then you wouldn’t question him. “He has to make sure his prized possession stays safe.”

Jungkook laughs, slinging an arm around you and bringing you to his side obnoxiously. “Well you tell him I have that covered.”

“Jungkook, he’d cut your tongue out. Stop it!” you cackle.

“I’d like to see him fucking try,” he grunts out, enjoying the way you playfully swat at him. He’d like to think he could have Minho’s head served on a silver platter if he ever got close enough to put his hands on him.

“What about you? Any fun club plans after our playdate?”

Jungkook sighs, a smile still on his face. “Nope. I’m officially clocked out.” Your laugh is felt against his side, only making his smile widen. “I just have to stop by the clubhouse to grab something before heading home.”

“How far is the clubhouse from here?” You’re looking up at him with a twinkle in your eye, your smile still as sweet as can be, but he senses some undertone that he hopes he isn’t imagining.

“Not far, about 20 minutes. Why? You want a tour?”

That was all he had to ask before you were following his bike down the busy streets on his side of town. His jacket is still on you, providing you with a small sense of security, knowing if anyone spotted you they’d assume you were with him. It leaves you at ease, entering the secure lot of his clubhouse, coming to a stop beside him and glancing around as you take off your helmet.

It’s empty, a few cars parked around that looked like they were in need of repair, but no other bikes or lingering people. Jungkook steps off his bike, motioning for you to follow him, excited at showing you his favorite place.

As you follow his lead you instantly see how different Deep Six’s clubhouse is compared to the Cobras. The space is taken care of, decorated thoughtfully, a space made for business as well as hanging out with their friends and families. Touches of the club are nestled around, a large Harley on display on a far wall, a frame showing the timeline and evolution of their patch tucked between other photos, and the most obvious and slightly obnoxious ode to the club comes in the gallery wall displaying all of their mugshots. Cute.

“It’s nothing fancy,” he mumbles, spreading his arms out as he stands in the middle of the main room. A brown tufted leather couch is right behind him, a giant pool table behind it and a fully loaded bar to the right.

“Compared to ours it sure is.” The Cobra’s clubhouse was made for business only, the meeting room was kept in pristine condition while the rest of it was only made to be nice enough to house drunken members and whatever hangouts were in the process of joining.

“Really?” When you nod he just frowns, approaching you to grab your hand and pull you along, trying to show you more. “I’ll show you my space.”

“Your space?” you wonder, smiling when he squeezes your palm lightly, leading you down a hall to the right. A few doors line both walls, different ranks tacked on the middle of them, coming to a stop in front of one that says Road Captain. You had never really paid attention to his rank on his jacket, never really caring to read anyone’s rank in general, but seeing it displayed on this door let you know just how deep his involvement in his club was.

“Only ranked members get private rooms.” He sounds almost bashful as he says this, grinning before opening up the door and switching on the light. A desk is on the right, paperwork neatly stacked in piles, a dresser is along the other wall with pictures tacked onto a cork board right above it. His bed is in the middle, sheets a dark gray and neatly made. It’s nestled between two windows on either side, letting in the slowly setting sunlight.

You step into the room, walking to the dresser to look at the photos he has tacked up. He looks younger in some of these, hair messier and longer, no piercing or tattoos yet as he leans on his bike, another member attempting to put him in a headlock. They’re all club photos for the most part, the only one standing out is a photo of a teenage looking Jungkook holding up a diploma with what you can only assume is his parents beside him.

“Cute,” you mumble out, smiling as you turn back to face him. It was odd to feel this calm around him, so used to the faint ticking heard in your head, reminding you that you were running on borrowed time, forced to interact in small bursts. With Minho completely occupied, the ticking disappears, allowing you to fully enjoy the moment for what it was.

“I didn’t expect you to be sentimental like this,” you tease, smiling at the way his eyes narrow at you as he approaches, his tongue poking at his cheek as he fights a smile.

“I’m full of surprises,” he murmurs, standing a foot away from you now, peering down at you with an aura of playfulness surrounding him. Your hands reach out to gently play with the material of his shirt, tugging him even closer. Jungkook could feel the tension, the same slowly growing tension that had been brewing with each day spent together. He can only watch as your hands slowly trail up his stomach, gliding up to gingerly rest against his chest.

He wanted to kiss you, wanted to feel you gasp against his lips, but the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel like he had suggested showing you his clubhouse to be a total sleaze. Jungkook knew the line had grown blurry, kisses and touches shared with ease, but he wasn’t bold enough to assume you’d be okay with taking anything further. So when you decide to make the first move, leaning up to ghost your lips over his own, he can only hold his breath, eyes fluttering shut when you softly press them together.

Your hands rest on his shoulders now, holding yourself steady as you kiss him, feeling the way his body melts into it. You pull away with a soft smack of your lips, inching back slightly. “What other surprises do you have?”

Jungkook holds in a groan when you start to pepper kisses on the corner of his mouth, trailing them down his jaw, gently nipping the skin of his throat right below his ear. You giggle when he shudders, his hands gripping your waist, fingers tightening around you.

“If you let me, I can show you.” His voice holds a tinge of unsureness, wanting for you to be okay with this without sounding pushy. But Jungkook had been thinking of this since your first kiss so he couldn’t help the desperate tone laced between each syllable.

“Show me. Show me whatever you want,” you whisper, hand coming up to cup his cheek, looking up at him through your lashes. When his eyes meet yours he finally lets his resolve crack, attaching your lips once more in a heated kiss, finally feeling you gasp against him.

Jungkook is a little ashamed to admit how easily this was affecting him, his heart already racing in his chest, stomach fluttering with each shared moan, bulge growing in his jeans when your hand slips into his hair and pulls. His hands slide down the material of his jacket you have on, pulling it off your body and tossing it aside without a care. He feels you smile against his lips at the action, clearly enjoying the way his hands roam along your body, desperate to touch you in ways he wasn’t able to before.

It’s an eager dance to his bed, blindly stepping back as he guides you to it until your knees buckle against the mattress, giggling as you flop onto it. Your arm rests back to hold you steady, other hand gripping onto his shirt to yank him back over you, reattaching your lips in a heated kiss.

Jungkook laughs into the kiss, his arm wrapping around you to haul you further up the bed properly, slowly pushing you back until you’re flat against the bed. His body settles over you, the cute visual of his hair framing his face is the first thing you see when your eyes flutter open as he pulls back. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, his hand coming up to gently cradle your jaw, thumb rubbing along your bottom lip as he smirks before dipping back down.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, following the same trail you had left on him earlier, smiling against your skin when you shudder as he nips your neck. Slowly, his hands slide down your body, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt and tugging it up to reveal your stomach.

“Can I take this off?” he mumbles, eyes peering up at you for confirmation. When you breathe out a yes, he slides it further up, helping you slip out of your shirt fully before you’re settling on your back again. A thin bralette covers your boobs, lacey cups revealing a glimmer on your nipples that has him tilting his head in curiosity.

You catch what he’s looking at, smile spreading on your lips as you reach up to touch his jaw, finger gently tapping along the small mole he has below his lips. “I’m full of surprises too,” you mumble, smiling wider when he boldly cups your chest, thumb swiping at your pierced nipple through the lace.

“I can see that,” he mumurs, voice low and raspy, making your stomach flip. He looks at you once more, brow cocking up in question as his fingers toy with the fabric. You nod your head, knowing what he wanted, allowing him to slip the straps off your shoulders before he’s sliding a palm under your back to properly unclasp your bra, giving himself the perfect view.

Its hard to ignore the small burst of confidence that surges through you when he groans, eyes hooded while he leans down to pepper kisses down your chest. It had been such a long time since you’ve felt truly desired, since you’ve been kissed delicately, had hands touch your skin so gently it tickles and leaves you breathing out a laugh. So you relish in it. You shut your eyes and enjoy the way Jungkook presses wet kisses to your skin, you let yourself gasp in pleasure when he wraps his lips around your pierced nipple and sucks.

Your hands instinctively slip through his hair, fingers yanking his thick strands as he hums against your skin, tongue flicking along the piercing. Jungkook feels the way you jut your chest further out, back arching at the sensation. A deep groan escapes you as his palm comes up to cup your other breast, the cool feeling of his rings sending a shiver down your spine.

He smiles as he pulls back, cocky with eyes twinkling with mischief as his fingers playfully dance down your body.

His eyes are locked with yours as his fingers reach the waistband of your jeans, teasingly dipping past it as he lifts a brow in question. He needed clear boundaries, not wanting to cross any lines. You find it cute, how despite the fact that you’re laying here, chest heaving with anticipation, eyes surely wild with desire, he’s still wanting to make sure.

“Can I?” He repeats his earlier question, features soft as he waits for your answer.

“We need to even out the playing field first Six,” you tease, smiling when he chuckles and points to his shirt. You nod, staring up at him from the bed as he kneels up, staring right at you as he reaches behind his neck and yanks the shirt off of his body.

Your blood warms up further at the sight of him, seeing his muscles flex under his tattoos as he straightens back up. Jungkook tilts his head slightly, biting on his lip ring as he fights back the smile at your clear admiration. The black marks his skin, some tattoos looking darker than others, showing you just which ones were recent additions.

The owl on his chest looks the brightest, edges still crisp, shading looking rich in the skulls beneath each wing. They seem to move as Jungkook takes a breath, snapping you out of it as you look back into his eyes.

“Is this even enough for you?” he jokes, smiling wide when you nod in confirmation, your eyes following his movements as his hand returns to your jeans. You watch with bated breath as he unbuttons the top, slowly pulling down the zipper before his hands hook into the waistband and starts to tug. Your hips lift from the bed to help, allowing him to pull them off, tossing them to the side along with your shoes and socks.

You can feel your stomach flipping with nerves, the worry of doing something new with someone new, the small clouds of insecurity rolling in, wondering if you looked good in this angle, if maybe Jungkook preferred you to look a certain way or wear cute underwear with bows on the front instead of the black regular cotton ones you currently have on.

It all settles down as he drops lowers, eyes looking up at you as he presses kisses onto your hips and slowly tugs your underwear down, clearly not paying any mind to them. A trail of goosebumps blossom down your thighs, following your underwear as he pulls them off too. He stands up once more, eyes swimming with want as he sees you.

“Let me get a good look at you,” he murmurs when he notices the way your arms begin to want to cover yourself up at being fully exposed. He thinks it's cute how shy you seem now, eyes bouncing away from his as he takes his time drinking you in. With your eyes diverted, he thinks it's a great time to dive in, his hands coming down to grip your palms while his face nudges its way into the crook of your neck to kiss your skin, smiling at the way you gasp and laugh at the ticklish feeling

“Jungkook!” you giggle, feeling his hands pin your own down on the bed, his mouth traveling down your body as he guides your hands into his hair, letting you know he wants you to keep playing with the strands. Your finger twirls his hair around, feeling him smile against your skin as he descends once more.

“Everything about you is so pretty,” he mumbles into your stomach, eyes peering up at you while his hands return to your hips, slowly sliding down to your thighs to grip the flesh. Wet kisses smack into your skin, leaving a trail on each hip and down your thigh until he’s suddenly biting. He laughs when you gasp, your fingers tugging his hair on instinct when you look down with a shocked expression.

“Looked so good you had to take a bite?” you joke, smiling down at him, feeling the fluttering in your stomach when he winks.

“Oh I need more than just a bite,” he groans, fingers tightening their hold on your thighs before he presses a kiss directly onto your mound, slowly sticking his tongue out to gently flick along your slit.

Jungkook loves the way your breath gets shaky as you exhale, a soft moan of his name reaching his ears when he gently parts your folds and teasingly flicks against your clit. A part of him knows this might be the one and only time he’ll ever get to experience you like this, the only time he’ll see you flush on his bed, gasping for more as your hips roll into him. So he wants to store every moment in his brain, keep it locked away until the next time he misses you.

“Fuck Jungkook, that feels good,” you moan, fingers locked in his hair, keeping him close as he ravishes you. The praise makes his ego grow, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking with the perfect amount of pressure. It makes your stomach tense, short little zaps of electricity flowing through your body with each flick of his tongue.

“Good, I just wanna make you feel good.” He leans back a bit, admiring the look of your sodden folds for a moment before he's letting a glob of spit drip from his mouth directly onto your clit. He bites his lip as his fingers spread it around, coating his digits as he circles your entrance. His eyes meet yours again, brow raised in question, smiling when you nod in response. Slowly, he pushes forward, eyes focused on your reaction, seeing the way you bite down on your lip as his finger sinks in.

Jungkook tries not to let his mind get carried away when he feels your walls fluttering around his digit, already imagining how you would feel around him, feeling his cock aching in his jeans as he sinks a second finger in to properly stretch you out. With each thrust of his fingers his mind wanders further, the need to see you falling apart leading his mouth back onto you, the combining sensation making you moan louder.

The stretch of his fingers has your head spinning, eyes falling shut as you mewl on his sheets, fingers raking through his hair. “More Jungkook, please,” you whimper, not able to get enough of him.

The desperation lacing your voice makes Jungkook’s heart flutter, ready to comply with anything you want. He moans against your folds, a third finger adding to the delicious stretch. The wet clicks of his fingers thrusting into your drenched pussy fill the room, and it's the greed living inside of Jungkook that makes him want to thrust into you faster, make it so that all you can hear is the sound of your pleasure.

Your breath hitches in your throat when he curves his fingers upwards, tickling the sweet spot that makes your eyes roll. That’s when you feel the familiar cool sensation of his rings once more. You were used to feeling them on your arms when he playfully pulled you around, used to the feeling of them on your cheeks when he gripped your face before kissing you, but feeling them against your cunt each time he thrust his fingers forward, it made your body burn up with lust. There was something about having the name of a club you were told to stay far away from pressed against you salaciously that only made the waves of pleasure you feel crash over you even harder.

“Mm, close Jungkook,” you whine, your free hand sliding up your body to tug and pinch at your nipples. Jungkook peers up at you from between his thighs and the visual of you playing with yourself while he ate you out has him making a mess in his underwear. He doesn’t even care how easy it is for you to make him this needy, knowing you were enjoying yourself because of him was all that mattered.

“Wanna feel you baby,” he mutters out, lips shiny with your arousal, fingers scissoring inside of you, feeling the way your walls tighten around him. Your hands grip his hair tighter, making him hiss, a breathy laugh hitting your messy folds when you guide his mouth back onto you.

Jungkook knows you’re right on the edge, the craving for your release making you arch your back, moans of his name slurring together with pleas for more more. All it takes is a few more flicks of his tongue for your climax to crest, the prettiest moan he’s ever heard reaching his ears as you gush around his fingers.

“There you go, good girl,” he groans, pulling back as he licks his lips, staring at your trembling body with eyes swimming with lust. His thumb replaces his mouth, rubbing your swollen clit, enjoying the way you writhe at the slight overstimulation.

“Ah, ‘Guk,” you whimper. And the new nickname has him smiling, loving the way it sounds coming from you so much he almost doesn’t want to stop. It takes your small hands coming down to grip his wrist for him to finally pull away, your soft giggles of enjoyment coming to a halt when he slips his fingers into his mouth.

“Told you I needed more than just a bite,” he teases, making an absolute show of licking his fingers. “What about you, are you satisfied?”

You lift yourself up with one arm, the other reaching forward to grip his belt loop, tugging him closer as you look up at him through your lashes. “Mm, no I don’t think I am.” His abs tense when your finger trails along his skin, toying with the button on his jeans, slowly popping them open and pulling down the zipper.

“Then I need to fix that,” he mumbles, tongue flicking his lip ring as he stares down at you, watching the way you reach down to palm at his bulge. Your face lights up at his words, a smile spreading on your face as he helps you tug down his jeans, obviously eager. Jungkook’s smirk only deepens when your eyes widen once you finally release his cock, a small gasp escaping you at the size of him.

Pearly beads of precum collect at his tip, swollen and aching for your touch, so when you finally grasp his length and swipe your thumb along the bulbous tip he lets out a deep groan that has your core clenching.

“Fuck, babe.” He grunts when your palm starts to slide up and down, his eyes focused on the way you slowly inch forward, your tongue peeking out to gently lick his tip. Jungkook knows he’s in trouble, already feeling his body react to your touch. All you had done was give him a few teasing touches and his mind was already spinning. Its an inner battle as he watches you take more of him into your mouth, his jaw dropping at the warm feeling, hands clenching by his side when you moan at the taste of him.

“Y/N,” he groans, “you’re gonna make me cum too fast.” You pop off of him with a wet smack, a saccharine smile on your lips as you giggle.

“And that’s a bad thing?” Your head tilts as you question him, hand still lazily pumping his length.

“It is when I want to fuck you first.” That makes your hand finally stop, brows raising in interest. Your free hand slides up his body, carefully cupping his face, guiding him down to kiss you.

“Then fuck me, Jungkook. I’m yours,” you murmur against his lips, feeling him groan against you as he kisses you harder. You know what you mean. You’re his for the night, despite how strong your connection with him is, the reality was that as long as Minho had his claws sunk into you, there would never be a chance for you and Jungkook to delve deeper into this relationship. But this tiny bubble you were both in was enough for you.

The energy is different than what you’re used to, the both of you smiling through the kisses, soft words whispered against skin as you help him take off his jeans. Jungkook’s laugh is infectious when you gasp at the sight of his thighs, the double headed wolf tattoo catching your attention immediately, praising it under your breath before he’s kissing you once more, telling you he’ll let you properly see it later as his hands grope your sides.

“How do you want me?” you mumble, gently nipping his lip.

“If it was my way I’d have you in every position I could think of. You tell me, baby.” If Jungkook let his selfish desires take over, he’d tell you he wanted you to ride him, let you bounce on top of him and use him while he got to watch your pretty face. But he can’t be that selfish, even if the small pestering voice in his head tells him that this might be his only chance to. Still, his eyes are soft as he pulls back, ringed hand caressing your face with a tenderness that makes your heart clench

“Can I ride you?” Your voice is timid, just above a whisper, but it makes Jungkook shut his eyes and groan. You see, he wasn’t corny, didn’t believe in fate or anything like that, but for a brief moment Jungkook's convinced this was meant to be.

“Fuck,” he groans, leaning forward to rest his forhead against yours. “Yes, please.”

The way he begs makes your pussy ache, hips instinctively rolling up into his, enjoying the way he hisses, rutting his cock against your inner thigh. The beads of precum leak off his tip, leaving a small puddle by your hip, smeared around as he repeats the action.

“O-okay,” you gasp, biting down on your lip as you peek at the visual, trying not to get lost in the way he teases himself. “Let me ‘Guk, wanna feel you.”

He nods, tendrils of hair tickling your face as he kisses you again before leaning back. You try not to stare but it's so hard when he looks like that, length hard and bobbing as he rummages through the drawer by his bed, a sheepish smile on his lips when he plucks out a shiny square packet.

Your heart races in your chest as you sit up, coming onto your knees and crawling to the head of the bed, gently patting the space next to you. Jungkook’s quick to settle beside you, back leaning against the small headboard, large hands reaching to grab your hips and hoist you over his thighs. A small laugh escapes you at being manhandled, the toned muscles of his thighs felt underneath you, his cock poking at your belly from your proximity.

Your eyes are glued to it, watching in awe as he pulls out the condom and carefully rolls it on, a small sigh meeting your ears.

“Can’t wait to feel you,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his jaw, your hand meeting his around his cock as you lift your hips just enough. His free hand finds your hip again as you guide his tip to your entrance, teasingly circling it, slipping the tip inside for a second before popping it back out, the two of you gasping at the feeling.

“Mm, sit on it,” he groans, brows pinched together as he nudges his nose into your neck. Wet kisses mark your skin, his hand getting tighter on your hip when you repeat the action again before finally sinking further down. Your walls clench around him, the stretch making you whine. You had seen his size, knowing just how big he was, but now that he’s inside of you and you feel it, you pace yourself.

It's unintentionally torturous, the warm tightness slowly enveloping more of him and all he could do was clench his jaw and grip you harder. Jungkook is patient, fighting every urge he has to thrust up or sit you down fully. Instead he murmurs praises into your skin, tells you how good you feel, how good you’re doing, that you’re almost there until you’re butt rests flush against his thighs.

A shuddering breath hits his shoulder, your face coming up to stare at him properly now. He’s staring at you with hooded eyes, mouth slightly opened as he gasps when your walls flutter.

“So big,” you mumble, kissing him gently, lips ghosting over his, hips slowly lifting an inch before coming back down.

“I know, baby. Take your time.” He groans, kissing you harder, teeth clicking together in his haste, breathing into each other. Jungkook felt like he was dreaming, some sick fantasy teasing him while he slept, giving him a taste of you before reality would settle in and snatch it all away. But you don’t usually feel this way in his dreams, don’t dig your nails into his shoulder as you quicken your pace, your wetness dripping down his cock and pooling at the base. And Jungkook is glad that he prefers reality over his dreams for once.

“Oh god ‘Guk,” you moan, skin slapping together with each rise and fall of your hips. His lips are coated in a sheen of spit, swollen from your kisses and gentle bites, but he gives you a smile, clearly enjoying your reaction to him.

“Does it feel good baby?” he murmurs, voice deep and raspy at the edges, his hand sliding up your thighs, pressing into your tummy with a tilt to his head. “Feel nice and full?”

You shudder at his question, feeling the pressure of his palm, and you swear you can feel the tip of his cock nudging into it. “Y-yes, so good, so full. Just wanna fuck you forever.”

He hums, feeling your words deep inside of him. It makes him melt into the headboard, hand traveling further up until he has a handful of your tits in them. Jungkook plays with them a bit, finger pinching and twisting the hard buds, tugging gently at the silver bar, hearing you moan at the sensation.

“You can fuck me whenever you want,” he grunts at a particular drop of your hips, the wetness aiding in your pace.

“Really?”

“Mhm,” he groans, thumb rolling along your nipple, softly rutting up into you. “Just text me whenever you want it. Pretty face, delicious pussy, I’ll always be here for you.”

“You’re such a romantic,” you giggle, throwing your head back as you get lost in the motion. Jungkook laughs with you, arm scooping around your back to pull you closer, his mouth kissing up and down your neck, teeth grazing the surface with the urge to suck but he knows better.

“Just for you,” he breathes into your skin, feeling you laugh again.

It feels like nothing else matters, not the potential consequences to this, no worry about what this meant for your special friendship. All that matters is that Jungkook is grabbing you like he can’t get enough of you, kissing you like his life depends on it, not shy at all at vocalizing how good it all feels.

“Wanna cum,” you gasp, cupping his face, seeing the way he focuses on your lips as you speak.

“Yeah? Tell me what you need.” He bends his knees slightly, pressure on his heels as he fucks up into you. The jiggle of your tits makes his mouth water, caught in a daze.

“Need you to touch me.” It's the softest plea, tone dripping and needy, making Jungkook nod immediately. He bites his lip as he trails a hand up your chest, over your neck until he’s cupping your jaw, his thumb rubbing along your lower lip. With a gentle tap, you’re opening up, eyes locked together as you wrap your lips around the digit and suck, giving him a teasing bite as he tries to pull it out.

He smiles at you, bringing down his soaked thumb in between your bodies until it reaches home directly onto your clit. The sudden touch makes you gasp, bundle of nerves swollen and sensitive, and its almost too much. But he’s gentle, easing you into the feeling, only applying more pressure when you finally relax, falling back into the delicious rhythm you have going.

Jungkook can feel the coil tightening inside of him with each pulse of your pussy, walls clamping around him on each lift, making an absolute mess as the arousal drips onto his balls.

“More?” He quickens his finger, circling your clit faster, paying close attention to your reaction.

“Oh, fuck. No, like that. Just like that.” So he does, jaw dropped open as he watches you get lost in it all, bouncing on top of him as fast as you wanted, using him just like he wanted. Your thighs burn but it feels too good to think about stopping, the beginning signs of your orgasm licking at your skin, encouraging you to fuck him faster. You can hear how messy you’re leaving him, the squelch of your pussy blending in with the moans and thumping of the headboard.

“Close, fuck—ah,” you stutter and gasp, brows pinched together tightly, only able to stare at him as you start to fall apart. He looks at you in awe, breathing in time with you, matching each gasp and moan, thumb slipping around in your slick. It's the accidental flick of his that has you tumbling over the edge, nearly shrieking out his name as your high comes barreling at you.

Jungkook curses under his breath as you tremble above him. Your hand curls into his hair, yanking him forward into a messy kiss as you moan unabashedly, his thumb continuing to flick along your puffy clit for another minute to work you through it before he’s clutching onto your hips and controlling your speed. You’re still twitching at the aftershocks, small sparks kissing your skin and leaving you in a comfortable haze as you tangle your tongue with his, pulling back with a smile so sweet.

“I wanna see you cum Jungkook,” you kiss him again, teasing him as you pull away and watch him chase you for more. “Made me feel so good, want you to cum for me.”

Jungkook groans, nodding as he wraps his arm around you, pushing off the headboard until the air is whooshing around you and your back is meeting the sheets once more. He cages you in easily, arms under your back, cradling your head as he buries his face into your neck and surges his hips into you.

Your breath leaves you at the change in position, legs wrapping around his hips, shuddering as his pelvis nudges your sensitive clit. He doesn’t care how desperate he looks, fucking you like he was starved of affection, the need to cum taking over all of his senses.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Your nails dig into his back, scratching along his skin, making him groan into your ear. His thrusts grow more sporadic, shallow, losing their grace as your purposefully clench around him.

“Oh shit, you’re gonna make me cum.” He whines, voice breathy against your neck, and you swear you’ll cum again.

“Yeah? Cum for me, c’mon,” you whisper, grazing his back and tightening your walls again. He nods against you before he’s leaning back, giving you the view you so sweetly asked for. His thick brows are furrowed on his forehead, eyes heady with lust, and a deep groan of your name spilling past his lips as he cums. Your feet urge him closer as his hips stutter, rutting into you to milk his orgasm as he fills up the condom.

The room falls quiet for a moment, the both of you catching your breath, hearts slowing down as the high settles over your bones. And then he’s laughing, flopping back over you and tightening his hold on your body.

“Why are you laughing?” You giggle too, hands running through his hair as you smile in a love sick daze.

“I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard,” he admits sheepishly, kissing your warm skin, leaning back with a childish smile as he kisses your nose and ever so slowly starts to pull out of you. The sound is filthy, core sensitive and messy, and when he fully pulls out you can’t help but close your legs.

He simply laughs, hand softly rubbing at your calves before he’s getting up and disposing of the condom.

You’re still in that same foggy haze from earlier, even as Jungkook returns with a damp cloth to clean you up, all you can do is hum in thanks as you melt into his sheets. It doesn’t take long for him to settle in beside you again, holding you close, hand tickling the skin of the thigh you have hooked over his hip.

“You have such pretty legs.” It’s a soft compliment, almost like it wasn’t meant to escape him. But when you look at him with a sincere smile he continues. “If you were mine I’d beg you to wear skirts all the time just so I could stare at them, touch them—“ he grips your thighs playfully, smiling at your laugh, “I’d be able to flick it up so easily and fuck you in it.”

Your laugh is louder now, your hand playfully swatting at his chest at how quick he was to get raunchy.

If you were mine.

That phrase repeats in your mind, sounding like a sweet song that you’d never get tired of hearing.

“I’ll wear one at the meet next week,” you promise, running your hand over his chest. You knew you’d be seeing him there, able to freely ogle at him with all the neighboring clubs gathered together in an attempt to keep the peace. You might not be able to interact like you usually do, but just seeing him was enough.

Just as he’s about to reply, the sound of a familiar engine cuts the air. You freeze instantly, wide eyes staring at Jungkook, seeing the confused look on his face. He lifts a hand up, motioning for you to stay as he sits up straighter, ears perking up when he hears the front door of the clubhouse open up.

“Stay here. They won’t come in here but I know they saw my bike so I’ll get rid of them.” You can only nod as he hurries into his clothes, buttoning his jeans in a haste and deciding to forgo his shirt and shoes as he all but runs out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

The haze you felt earlier is long gone, anxiety settling into your bones once more, realizing just what sort of situation you were in. Jungkook seemed to think the golden rule of staying away from Cobras was fine with you, but who knows just what kind of loyalty the Six member in the other room holds.

All you needed was one man hell bent on loyalty to come barging in, and you don’t even want to think of what would become of you. Your heart rattles in your chest as you sit up too, eyes glancing around the room to find your pile of clothes.

You can hear them mumbling in the main room, Jungkook’s laughter sounding out as he jokes around with his fellow brother. You can only imagine what he’s telling him, maybe explaining why theres a second bike parked next to his, or giving his reason for being shirtless and disheveled at the clubhouse this late in the day. Whatever is going on, you know you shouldn’t wait around to see how it plays out. Being with Jungkook makes reality pause, fade away and leave you to believe that things were meant to be this easy.

But that's not your reality.

You knew you wanted this to happen, could still feel the butterflies in your stomach as you remember the way he kissed your skin. But you couldn’t let the line be crossed this far again. You’re not sure karma would be too kind to you the next time.

As quiet as you can, you slip out of bed, carefully putting your clothes back on and looking at the desk in the corner. Before you overthink it, you grab the pen and notepad he has resting on top of paperwork, scribbling out a quick note before you’re returning to his bedside, yanking up the curtains and wiggling the window open to slip out.

Back in the main room, Jungkook is sitting on the bar stool, Hoseok resting against the counter as they both joke around. Jungkook is thankful that Hoseok doesn’t seem to ask too many questions, knowing very well that he must have some girl in the room, but he wasn’t nosey enough to want to know who.

“So you’re not gonna introduce your friend?” he jokes, giving Jungkook a coy smile, enjoying the way his younger friend blushes and shoves his shoulder.

“No you weirdo, you fucking scared her by showing up like this. Why the hell are you here anyway?”

Hoseok cackles, pushing away from the counter and walking towards the meeting room. “Sorry, I didn't mean to be a cockblock. I forgot to grab some paperwork.” The way he says it makes it seem like it was work documents, contracts that needed to be signed instead of files detailing the amount of guns they’d be receiving in the next drop. He disappears into the room, returning a few moments later with the folder in his hand. “I’ll be out of your hair now.”

And he does just that, waving goodbye and stepping back outside. But as he approaches his bike he realizes the bike he had seen next to Jungkook’s was missing now.

Jungkook is none the wiser as he walks back to his room, a smile on his face that falls when he doesn’t see you on the bed. The sheets are a mess, your clothes are missing, his curtains are drawn up and his window remains cracked open. He steps closer now, a white sheet of paper catching his attention on his desk.

Thanks for the tour, I think your room might be my favorite<3 Remember, we take this to our graves. We’ll kiss on it over sour straws soon x

Ps. I’ll see you at the meet, I’ll be the one in the short skirt.

Maybe it's the sick hopefulness he feels in his chest, but Jungkook can’t help but smile as he thinks this won’t be the last time afterall.

#jungkook smut

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moon-rivr · 6 months

Text

(i mixed these two together so i hope that it’s okay with the individual anons :D )

dress

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

content: smut, feelings of betrayal(not from reader), unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), begging (from reader), panty sniffing

author’s note: quick question, do you all prefer longer (4k+ words) or shorter fics 🤨 italics is flashback btw :) (i’m not rly a swiftie so i’m sorry if i butchered this 😭)

word count: 3.5k

The dress itself was nothing short of beautiful, the shade of red accentuated you beautifully and it hugged your curves perfectly. Though you received many compliments and longing looks from the people at the event, none of them were from the man that you wanted. You weren't too sure if you'd see him again after such a long time being away from Nueva York but you kept your hopes up. The room was full of your soon-to-be coworkers but you had little interest in trying to maintain pointless conversation with them.

You walked over to the food table and grabbed yourself a Coke with a bag of chips, the rest of the food looking unappealing. You turned around and were met with a broad chest, the impact causing you to stumble back a little bit and drop your chip bag. "Sorry about that," you told the person you'd bumped into, grabbing your chips. "No worries, it's all good."

The voice took you back to the days of sneaking around the library when no one was around, of hiding around in the bleachers after football practice was over, and of the day you left Nueva York. You weren't expecting to find him so fast in the crowd, but you had to admit that the time apart had done him well. He was no longer the tall and awkward boy you met during a study group but a man molded by experience and muscle.

"You look as beautiful as the first day I saw you," Miguel lowered his head to whisper in your ear, affirming your suspicions that he'd recognized you. You had about a thousand words that you wanted to say to him but none of them could compute into complete sentences. When you opened your mouth to respond, you were left by yourself at the food table. You decided to push away the butterflies that were swarming around in your stomach and went to go talk to some of the other people at the event.

You'd taken your letter from Columbia back to Miguel's house, a unsaid pact between the two of you that you'd open your letters together. You could only hope that the amount of endless nights studying in the library would pay off but a part of you felt dread at having to open it. You knocked on his door, shifting from foot to foot nervously as you waited for his response. He came out with his headset half on, wearing a pair of sweatpants and thick black glasses. "Hey, come in," he told you, gesturing you to come in.

"I got waitlisted," you told him as you opened the letter, looking up to see that his expression had shifted to something solemn. "It's okay. we can still go to college together. You got accepted to NYU right?" He tried to offer a solution but you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to figure out the best way to tell him. "I'm not staying in Nueva York for college. I applied to UCLA and got in. I hope you're not mad at me or anything," you responded, playing with your fingers nervously. "It's okay, we'll stay in contact and call every weekend."

The two of you did not stay in contact after the first couple months and you felt like you were just a spectator in his life. He'd been going to clubs and frat parties, a complete 180 from who you'd met, and the realization that you didn't fit into his life anymore hit hard. Though you wished that you could've ended things in person with him, you ended up breaking up with him in text after seeing him get too cozy with a girl on his Instagram story. You knew that it was your decision to go away but you couldn't help but feel upset at how fast he'd moved on from you.

"Are you okay? You've been staring into space for a while," One of your coworkers spoke, breaking you out of your thought as they waved a hand in front of your face. You blinked, returning your attention back to the conversation at hand. “Yeah, I’m all good. What's this about the cafeteria on the second floor though?" you responded, trying to engage in the conversation even though you felt a pair of red eyes staring at your every movement.

The evening went by quickly and soon enough, the event began to wind down. You thanked your boss for the job opportunity and for hosting the party before heading out, waiting for your taxi outside. Goosebumps formed on your skin as you shifted from foot to foot, unaccustomed to the Nueva York night air. You felt a jacket on your shoulders, looking up to see Miguel standing there next to you. "I know you don't owe me anything but I'd like to talk to you. It's been a while," he spoke up after a while, his voice coming out raw like it'd been difficult just to get the words out.

The drive back to Miguel’s place was spent mostly in silence with some questions coming from the taxi driver in front. "So how long have the two of you been dating?" the man up front asked as he approached a red light, doing his best to be polite. Miguel kept his mouth shut, practically drilling holes at the taxi driver's headrest with his eyes. "We're not dating, actually," you responded awkwardly, offering a small smile to counteract the glaring from the man next to you. "Oh, I’m sorry for assuming," he responded, staying quiet for the rest of the ride after that.

"Thank you," you told the taxi driver once he pulled up to Miguel’s penthouse, getting your wallet out to pay. Miguel pushed your hand away and handed the driver a twenty, getting out of the car without a word. "Sorry about him. He's a little.. temperamental," you mumbled, getting out of the car after Miguel. You followed him up to his house, taking note of how nice the area was around you two. He gestured you to come in, holding the door open for you.

You stepped inside his house and you couldn't help but notice that even though he lived in an expensive neighborhood and he had expensive furniture around the place, the house was devoid of anything that made it a home. Miguel shut the door and unbuttoned his shirt at the top as he walked over to the kitchen. "You didn't eat anything at the party, what do you want to eat?" He asked you, leaning against the counter a bit as he waited for your response. "I’m not hung-" you started to say but your grumbling stomach betrayed your words. "Whatever's easy to make then."

"When'd you get back to Nueva York?" He asked, his voice taking on a note of indifference like the time you'd spent beforehand didn't matter to him. "I got back around three months ago, I think? I’m still getting adjusted to living on the east coast again," you responded, thanking him for the meal that he'd made. The smell of seasoning and spices filled up the kitchen after he was done cooking, the plate of food looking nothing less than inviting. "And you didn't think to call me? To see how I was doing without you?"

You almost choked on your food as he asked you these questions and you immediately reached out to grab the bottle of water he'd set down. "I didn't think that we were in a position for friendly conversation. Last time I saw you, you were dancing with some girl at a club," you responded, keeping your eyes on your food so you wouldn't have to meet his face. He sat down across from you, his presence demanding for you to pay attention to him. "You left me. You don't know how hard it's been to force myself not to call you and see how you're doing. To see if you still think about me as much as I think about you," he told you, his gaze unwavering as he looked at you.

"Tell me, why'd you apply to Alchemax?" He asked you after a couple moments of silence and you played with your food as you tried to avoid the question. "It's one of the best genetics labs in the country. It'll do miracles for my career," you responded, telling him the same lie that you told yourself when you clicked on the application button. "Ese cuento ni te lo crees tú. Te estoy pidiendo la verdad, nada mas y nada menos. Why'd you apply to Alchemax?" he asked you once more and you felt your defenses come down with the way his eyes softened as he looked at you. (you don’t even believe that story. i’m asking you for the truth, nothing more and nothing less)

"Because I was hoping to see you again, Miguel. I didn't think it would happen so soon and I would've been happy just to see that you were okay," you responded, finishing up with your food as you avoided all eye contact with him. "Then why'd you leave me?" He inquired, looking like the boy who'd gotten rejected from the football team all those years ago. "I didn't leave you, specifically. I left because I wanted to discover who I was without you, Miguel. I was just your girlfriend during high school, and while I don't regret our relationship one bit, I also didn't know who I was without you," you told him honestly, standing up to clean up the plates.

He led you to his bedroom after he'd taken over cleaning the plates, turning on the lights as the two of you stepped inside. He took the jacket off your shoulders and tossed it onto a chair he had on the side, taking a couple seconds to stare at you in the dress. He went behind you, sliding the zipper off with such precision and his mouth went to your shoulder, kissing every bit of skin that had become available to him. "I'll keep you buried with my cock all the time so you don't have to leave me," he mumbled, finishing up with the task at hand.

You got down on your knees and started to stroke him with your hand, trying to get adjusted to the size of him again. You kissed on his thighs the way that he liked when you two were together, the small shudder that ran through his body being enough proof that he still enjoyed the same things. You slowly lowered your mouth onto his cock, giving some kitten licks to the tip since you knew that would get him even more worked up.

You slowly swirled your tongue around the mushroom tip, licking every drop of precum that had leaked out during your teasing. You took more of him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you tried to adjust to the size. Your hand pumped the base, squeezing around it tightly as you worked it in tandem with your mouth. His hand came to the back of your head, guiding you down his length to the best of his ability until you felt the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. Your nose rubbed against his happy trail and even though tears were starting to brim on your waterline from how deep he was, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at having taken him so well.

You brought your mouth down to his balls, sucking on them and swirling your tongue around them while your hand jerked him off. The precum that had leaked out from his tip served as a perfect lubricant, making the whole experience all the more pleasurable towards Miguel. You brought your mouth back to his cock, your mouth running down the underside and tracing one of the veins running along the side.

"Look at me," he ordered, though his voice came out more ragged than he would've liked. you looked up at him, your mascara had dripped down your cheeks and the red lipstick that you'd worn tonight was smudged around the corners but you still looked so angelic to him. He leaned his head back, like the sight before him was just too much to look at while his hand continued to guide your head.

"Tan hermosa que eres," he murmured, his whole body shuddering as he came closer to that peak. (you’re so beautiful) He finished in your mouth and you swallowed it down greedily, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He helped you stand up and carried you over to the bed, slotting himself right in between your legs. He hooked his pointer finger in your panties and slowly slid them down your legs, his gaze on your glistening cunt.

He brought your panties up to his face, taking in the scent of you. He put it to the side and looked over at you, kneeling between your legs. “I'm gonna keep those. Just in case you decide to run away again," he told you, pressing small kisses on your thighs. Your legs started to wiggle as he pressed featherlight kisses on them but his firm grip on your thighs restricted you from moving them any further. He bit down on the insides of your thighs, his canines piercing the skin slightly as his tongue lapped up the small drops of blood that dribbled down.

He started licking at your folds, taking his time to get adjusted to you and your taste again before he delved in. He thrust his tongue inside, his eyes closing from the sensation of having you under him once again. You brought your hands up to his hair, tugging gently on the black curls as he continued to tease your hole. He used his tongue to thrust in and out of you, his hands up on your breasts as he tugged and massaged the nipples. He used the tip of his nose to brush up against your clit, applying stimulation every so often.

His fingers came down to your cunt and he picked up the slick you'd released with his pointer and middle finger, bringing them up to your mouth. You took them instantly, your tongue swirling around his fingers as you tasted yourself, the result of what he'd made you feel in this time together. He slowly pushed one finger in, only reaching halfway before he filled up up. Your cunt squeezed tightly around his finger, coating him with a wave of fresh arousal as he began to thrust it in and out of you at a rapid pace.

His tongue came down on your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the nub the way that had your toes curling and your hands gripping his hair. You swiveled your hips against his face, your orgasm starting to bubble up inside of you. "Beg me to cum. Beg me the same way I used to beg for you to stay in Nueva York," he told you, only stopping his movements to hear you plead for that sweet release. "Please Miguel! I won't leave you again, please just let me cum! I've been good," you pleaded, tears starting to build up at the prospect of having your orgasm ripped away from you.

"Doesn't really sound like you wanna cum, muñequita. Beg like you mean it and I’ll consider it," he teased you, his eyes sparkling with newfound mischief. You wondered why he wanted you to beg so badly, when he used to be the one who'd beg to be inside of you, to taste you, and be the one that would be willing to fuck your panties just for a feeling of you. "Please, Miguel! I'll stay with you this time! Just let me cum, please! I’ll be good," you complied with his request nonetheless, your bottom lip wobbling as you did.

He let out a dark chuckle and went back to fingering you, his mouth attached to your clit instantly. He let out a couple moans as he thrust his lower half into the mattress, seeking out a form of relief for himself as well. Your nails dug into his scalp but he didn't seem to mind, in fact, he seemed to go faster the harder you pulled at his hair. You came with a moan of his name, falling back onto the bed as you tried to control your erratic breathing.

He placed your legs against your chest as he aligned his cock with your entrance, your previous orgasm providing him with the ease that he needed to slide in. It was still a struggle to take in the sheer girth and length of him, but the sting didn't feel too bad after a couple seconds. He let you adjust to his cock before starting off slow, the look on his face being a complete change from when he'd asked you to beg. It felt like he was trying to make love to you rather than fuck you, each thrust deep but slow like he wanted to make this moment last.

"Miguel, go faster please," you spoke up after a while, needing more of what he could give you. You appreciated his efforts of wanting to take things slow, but you wanted to be fucked with such intensity that your legs would be wobbly after. He sped up, his balls slapping against the globes of your ass with each thrust. He brought your legs down and attached his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking on it like he'd been starved of the taste of you. Your hands came up to his hair once more, pulling on the strands with each relentless thrust that he gave.

You enclosed your legs around his waist to pull him even closer to you, wanting to feel the warmth you'd been missing. He brought his hand to your clit, rubbing small circles on the nub as he angled his cock to hit your most sensitive spot. Your legs began to shake as you felt the coil inside of you tightening up, threatening to snap at any moment. Your orgasm washed over you quickly, coating his cock in your slick as his thrusts started to get sloppier and faster. You tightened your legs around his waist, restricting his access to pull out. His eyes widened and you were quick to reassure him, "I'm on birth control."

He came quickly after that, his cum filling your walls completely as his cock pushed in you. He pulled his cock, making sure that he wouldn't overstimulate you in the process. He cleaned you up with a wet cloth, using light pressure as he cleaned the cum leaking out. You took a couple seconds to let your vision go back to normal before you stood up, grabbing your discarded bra and red dress.

"Where are you going, chula?" He asked you, causing you to stop your movements. "I'm going home. I figured that this was just a one night stand," you responded, looking back at him as you held your clothes in hand. "So you're gonna leave me again after you said you wouldn't?" He inquired, his brow raising as he challenged you. "What do you want me to do here, Miguel? We're not exactly friends at the moment and we're not strangers," you responded and he walked over, holding your hands in his.

"Choose to stay with me. we'll figure out this whole thing in the morning when we're not clouded with sex," he offered and you let out a small sigh, looking up at his red eyes. He could act as indifferent as he wanted, but those eyes showed nothing less than the longing that had accumulated in the time you'd left. "Do you have anything I can borrow?" you asked him, setting your clothes on the chair that his coat was resting on. "Figured you could sleep in that red dress of yours, you looked magnificent in it," he suggested before he walked over to the closet to hand you one of his shirts.

He helped you take your makeup off, even taking his time with the mascara though he was growing more and more agitated. He ended up going to a pharmacy that was open 24/7 near his home to get you a cleanser and some other necessities, making sure that you were comfortable in your stay here. The two of you laid down in his bed, intertwined in his sheets as his hand rubbed small circles on your exposed thigh.

"Where does this leave us, Miguel?" You asked him after a while, wanting to get some answers. "I've never stopped loving you, y'know. I've been hoping for a while that you would just show up on the street and still want to be with me. So I guess what I'm trying to ask if you'd like to go out on a date with me. Get to know and love me again," he responded, his movements on your thigh stopping as he talked before picking back up again.

"I'd love that. For the record though, I never stopped loving you either."

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bucknastysbabe · 1 year

Text

Oh Bucky you’re so fine <3

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Avenger!afab!reader, daddy kink, smooth talkin big lover boy era Bucky, banging in concerning places, confessions of feelings, pnv!sex, v!fingering, Big Dick Bucky Barnes, alcohol consumption, Thor’s Super Mead, the reader is IN THE TRENCHES down bad

A/N: Oh here we go again random Bucky smut aggressive as hell

Bucky was too hot for his own good. The idiot didn’t even realize he was sex on legs, hiding his beautiful body away under long sleeves and jeans at all times. You could appreciate the skinny jeans at least, often ogling his thick thighs around the tower.

You were down bad. Clint and Natasha thought it was hilarious how you watched him like a lovesick puppy. The archer would elbow you, teasing, “Careful someone might trip over your tongue hanging out.” They weren’t wrong.

Bucky was so oblivious though. He would play back with your flirting, shooting a million dollar smile and batting your shoulder but that was the extent. He had this five foot thick concrete wall around anything past flirty banter. You needed more, honest to god needed it. Your clit was raw from the amount of times you’d rubbed yourself to completion over the super soldier.

Currently your eyes were fixated on his thighs spread around a barstool. Barnes had been convinced by you to come out for once. Minus a couple of familiar faces, most of the Avengers were in this packed club. Thor was making Bucky take the rest of his Asgardian alcohol. Your lips quirked up— the shit had gotten Steve drunk as a skunk one time. He had the original serum too.

Maybe a little liquid courage would break down the brunettes barrier. You gulped down the rest of your own lemondrop and straightened your skirt. It was leather and way too short, but a girl has to get dick somewhere. Even though the puny men didn’t add up to Bucky in your mind. You knew he could put it down, there was no way the man didn’t have a huge dick. Two enhanced individuals in bed, the thought made your pussy throb.

Bucky’s delicate nose scrunched up as he chugged down the rest of the mead. Thor laughed maniacally, slapping the former assassin’s broad back. Bucky coughed, “Jesus Christ! The hell you make that with?”

Thor smiled enigmatically, “Tis’ a secret, soldier of winter!”

Clint’s annoying whine disrupted your watching.

“C’monnnn you can’t watch him all night! Take a shot and get after Barnes, sheesh!”

Bucky’s blue eyes flickered over to you and the bowman, a quizzical look on his flushed face. You turned to Clint, narrowing your eyes and hissing, “Shut the fuck up!” Barnes’ eyes made a scan over your body before he turned back to the blonde god. Clint guffawed and led you over to the opposite side of the bar, ordering vodka.

You whispered, “Does my hair look okay? I don’t look like too slutty right?”

Clint eyed you amusedly, deadpanning, “If you two don’t stop eye-fucking and do something about it I will. You look fine.”

You rolled your eyes, catching the shot slid over by Clint and downing it. You breathed out harshly at the burn, working yourself up to approach Bucky. Nodding at Clint, you walked over to him. As a former agent of SHIELD, you could do the deed. But the nerves were still there.

Bucky smiled down at you, cheeks pleasantly warm and his eyes slightly glossed. He must be tipsy. The brunette rumbled, “Whatcha’ been doing? Besides getting dragged around by asshole?” You blurted out, “Watching you.”

Oh Christ on a stick. Why did you do that?

Bucky’s wide smile fell a bit, his pupils darkening at your wide eyes. He raised a thick brow and intoned, “Is that right?” You stammered and blushed, looking down in embarrassment. “I-I oh god, y-yeah I’ve been staring you down.” A gloved hand tilted your chin up, Bucky gazing intensely. You fought to hide a whimper at the gentle touch.

He purred, “Been watching ya’ too, just begging to be looked at with those legs and that ass.” His other palm came down on your ass with a rough squeeze, pulling you into his broad chest. Bucky continued, “Been thinkin’ about sliding this skimpy shit up and seeing what little scrap you had on underneath.” His warm breath fanned over your gaping lips.

You were utterly struck, two seconds from getting down and worshipping Bucky’s cock under the bar. Whining softly you pressed your tits against him and pled, “Please! Want you to, got all dressed up for you Buck.” He smirked in that lopsided way of his and pressed full lips to yours. Faintly from afar it sounded as if Sam and Clint were cheering.

“Ya’ need it that bad huh? I oughta wine and dine my favorite baby avenger first,” he pecked your wet lips again, “But I don’t think I can wait, sweetheart.”

Your knees went weak at his pet name, the super soldier holding you upright with his grip on your cheek. Bucky chuckled softly, sharing more kisses with you. You lapped at his tongue, whimpering like the neediest slut. Smaller hands clenched into the leather of Bucky’s jacket, holding on for dear life. You couldn’t believe this was real life.

Was is that easy all along?

You blanched at realizing you spoke your thoughts aloud.

“Baby, I’ve been wanting you since your cute self walked into the compound,” Bucky admitted with a shy glance.

You suckled on his bottom lip and pulled back, frantically begging, “Bucky- shit! I need you to fuck me right now or I’m going to die!” He laughed again, eyes growing even darker with lust. He leaned down to nip your earlobe, purring in that old Brooklyn accent, “C’mon then sugar.” On shaky legs you gripped his hand and half-ran to the women’s bathroom. As horny as you were, the men’s was out of the equation.

Bucky slammed and locked the door behind you two. When he turned to you, you felt like a little bunny about to get eaten alive. No wonder people thought he was so scary. That glare was something else, thick brows furrowing, eyes penetrating your soul.

The former assassin grabbed you under the ass, slamming you on the counter, hungry lips sucking down your neck. Bucky hummed between marks, “Fuck you’re so hot, perfect angel.” You hiked up your skirt frantically, spreading your thighs to wrap around Buck. “No you,” you gushed. He moaned against your skin, peeling off his gloves in the process.

You ripped off your tight top, tits falling out under the fluorescent light. Bucky inhaled sharply, flesh fingers crawling under your thong. He snapped it against your hip, earning a pretty cry. The brunette rumbled, “You plan on wearing nothing hm baby?” You nodded and sloppily took Bucky’s mouth again, tongues intertwining. His cooler metallic hand pinched and twisted at one of your nipples, you whining and squirming in place.

With a tear, Bucky ripped off your slinky thong, stuffing the wet underwear in his pocket. Fucking menace. You complained, “Touch me p-please, m’so wet for you.” He smirked again, palming your sensitive breasts teasingly. Bucky murmured, “Yeah? I can smell it pretty girl, all soaked for me. Fuck!”

Your back arched painfully when fingers swiped through your copious slick. He drove two thick digits into your pussy, eliciting a loud squelch. He curled up into your g-spot, biting on his lip, eyes glossed over. You shook and chanted his name, fucking onto Buck’s perfect fingers. He groaned, “Yeah, that’s it, needy baby.”

“Fuck me, fuck me, c’mon Buck, please!”

Your frantic hands unbuckled him, almost crying from sheer need. Bucky shushed your carrying on, kisses driving you silly. You took his cock out and begged again, “Shit- Bucky, wan’ you to fuck me from behind, treat me rough da- Buck.” His blues almost rolled back from your near slip. You shoved your face into his thick neck to escape the embarrassment, leaking all over him.

Bucky growled, “Yeah? Need me to fuck you? Take you like a slut, Daddy’s girl want that?”

You cried out like a woman possessed, “Please! Please please please!” It was the only word you could utter at the moment. Bucky flipped you over, shoving you face down on the shitty countertop. The bulb above you blinked but shone on, bathing you two in a strange bluish light.

You gazed at yourself in the mirror, breath hitching at your debauched state. Smudged eyeliner, ruined lips, hair sticking up, and the dark bruises littering your neck. Bucky murmured nonsense into your cheek, rutting his thick cock against your slickened pussy. He was disheveled himself, muttering, “Fuck babydoll, gonna make me blow too fast.”

“C’mon daddy,” you whined.

Bucky’s gasped when he shoved his length into your cunt, both hands flying to your hips. You gripped onto the counter, eyes rolling up, moaning about ‘daddy’. He thrust into you in forceful movements, hips clapping into your ass. Someone knocked on the door, Bucky hollering, “Fuck off!”

You whimpered and shook under his assault, big cock splitting you wide open. Bucky panted, “S’good, babygirl is squeezin’ daddy s’good.” His big hands engulfed your waist, snapping your smaller frame onto his cock. You wailed, “Love your cock daddy, needed you s’bad!” He grinned and nuzzled into your sweaty nape, cock still pounding against your sweet spot and cervix.

“Yeah? You think my old crazy ass is hot?”

You babbled deliriously, breath hitching, “Uh! Huh! You’re so- god! Fucking hot! Not- ohmygodbuck! crazy.” Bucky kissed your shoulder, grunting, “But I’m still old.” You shook your head and continued, “Fuck daddy! Like you being older, s’good!” Your legs were shaking from his rough thrusts, pussy abnormally soaked.

Your eyes met his own in the mirror, you whining pathetic and desperate for the older man. Bucky wrapped a big hand around your neck and pulled you flush to his firm body. Still snapping his hips in debilitating jerks he rasped, “Such a dirty girl.” You agreed with him, succumbing to the mind boggling pleasure.

“You gonna cum on my cock babydoll?,” he cooed.

“Yes! Yes! Oh god yes!”

You cried and slammed your hands down on the counter, gushing on Bucky’s cock. He slurred out low curses, lashes fluttering. Meanwhile you spasmed and twitched around him, vision going dark for a second. You sobbed out Bucky and Daddy interchangeably, tears sliding down your cheeks. His cock was coaxing another out of you quickly.

Bucky begged, “One more, one more, c’mon sweetheart.”

His warmed metal fingers pinched and played with your clit, sending you up into another climax. You cried and seized up harder this time, hoarse guttural groans wracking your frame. Bucky’s hips jolted deep into your pussy, tip firmly nudging the bump. Your name left his swollen lips in a adorable whimper, nose scrunching up and mouth hanging wide open.

He gritted, “Can I come inside?”

You begged him to, feeling like you’d die if he didn’t.

Bucky’s baby blues rolled up.

You sucked in harsh breaths at Bucky’s hot cum painting your insides. He grunted and moaned softly through his climax, praising you so very sweet. He slipped out and turned your head to capture your bitten lips again. Both of you sensually kissed in slow, heady movements. He murmured, “S’pretty sweetheart. Think you wanna come snuggle with me after a shower or somethin’?”

You nodded dumbly, hand bracing itself on one of Bucky’s killer thighs. Lapping into his mouth another time you cradled a stubbled cheek. Satiation seeped out of your pores, picking up on Bucky’s saccharine emotions. “Yeah. I’d like that a lot. Can we get a shower first?”

He chuckled, “Careful whatcha’ wish for, babygirl.”

Oh you were downright ruined you were so down bad now. But now you could say Buck might feel the same, practically purring and rubbing against your sore body like a big cat. He murmured, “Pretty baby, good baby, what am I gonna do with you?”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #top bucky barnes #au everyone lives happily ever after #avenger reader

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usnatarchives · 3 months

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Mary Church Terrell

As we celebrate Black History Month, it’s a perfect time to honor the legacy of Mary Church Terrell, a pioneering civil rights and women’s rights activist. Born in Memphis, Tennessee, in 1863, Terrell was among the first African American women to earn a college degree, graduating from Oberlin College. She dedicated her life to fighting for equality and justice, making significant contributions to the suffrage movement and the fight against racial discrimination.

Terell’s commitment to civil rights and women’s suffrage was deeply intertwined with her work in the Black Women’s Club Movement. She served as the first president of the National Association of Colored Women (NACW), which advocated for voting rights and equal rights under the motto “lifting as we climb.” Terrell also played a crucial role in the founding of the National Council of Negro Women (NCNW) and the National Association for the Advancment of Colored People (NAACP).

One of Terrell’s most notable achievements was her involvement in a successful lawsuit in 1950 that led to the desegregation of restaurants in the Washington, DC, area. Terrell’s writings, including “A Colored Woman in a White World,” and “What it means to be Colored in the Capital of the United States,” have left a lasting impact on the struggle for racial and gender equality.

To explore more about Mary Church Terrell’s remarkable life and contributions, the National Archives offers additional resources here:

A Portrait of Mary Church Terrell: A glimpse into the grace and determination of the iconic figure https://www.archives.gov/research/african-americans/individuals/mary-church-terrell

Blogs related to Mary Church Terrell: Delve into detailed articles that explore various aspects of her life and legacy Rediscovering Black History Blog. https://rediscovering-black-history.blogs.archives.gov/

Unceasing Militant: The Life of Mary Church Terrell with Alison M. Parker: A recorded event that sheds light on Terrell’s multifaceted activism, held on December 17, 2020. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XQYQRKKBr0A&embeds_referring_euri=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.archives.gov%2Fresearch%2Fafrican-americans%2Findividuals%2Fmary-church-terrell&embeds_referring_origin=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.archives.gov&feature=emb_title

External: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/labor-love-restoration-ledroit-parks-mary-church-ee8xe/?trackingId=V7zIYQZE9YI5JgfRfOS4xg%3D%3D

#national archives #history #nationalarchives #black history month #bhm #african american history #mary church terrell

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angelofthenight · 4 months

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Kenchanted Pt.1

(Ken x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Lost in the chaotic and gritty human world, you come to Ken’s rescue. He’s determined to find his one true love who is also lost in the human world, Barbie, and despite your cynical and pessimistic view of “true love”, you help. You and Ken’s views of life and love are constantly clashing and arguments constantly follow. Yet the more time you spend together, you both begin to fall in love with the epitome of everything you once disagreed with. But you are both promised to others and you are from two different worlds, pink and grey.

Warnings: Swearing, V brief harassment (nothing intense), YN thinks Ken is mentally ill/disturbed, Mentions of police

( Super special thanks for my pookie mutual @detectiveapparatiagreen for proofreading for triggers💖 )

Word Count: 3.5k

Tropes Used: Grumpy x Sunshine, She fell first/He fell harder, Slow burn, Unexpected/Unintentional pining, Fantasy vs Reality

( This is based off the Disney movie Enchanted so it’s kinda like an AU, with a touch of Warm Bodies and Aquamarine. Also I named YN’s boyfriend after Oppenheimer in honor of Barbenheimer but I just realized that a Robert is in Enchanted too😭. Also this is steering off a bit from canon in the Barbie movie to cater more to Enchanted’s storyline so Ken doesn’t become a typical man/antagonist.

And lastly YN is basically Ken’s opposite personality-wise and clothing color palette-wise, I typically always have all my YN’s fashion style ambiguous in my stories unless it’s a direct effect to the story so that’s why I’m just forewarning )

Table of Contents

(R/n) = Roommates name

“God, learn to have a little fun, bitch!”

You flipped out your middle finger over your shoulder as you walked away without looking back at the man near the bar. Despite your platant rejections and constant explanations that you were about to leave the club, the man that approached you with sexual intentions still ran his mouth on how you should let him buy you a drink. You endlessly declined and when he began to grow impatient and rude that’s when you told him off and marched off to find your roommate, (R/n), in the crowd who had gone to retrieve your coats.

The music thrusted into your eardrums and rumbled your brain so intensely you wondered if you’d be able to get away with calling off work the next morning. You leaned against a wall to take off your heels, leaving your feet in just your pantyhose as (R/n) reunited with you holding both hers and your own jacket in her arms. She laid your jacket over your shoulders and you instantly huddled it around your short dress to prepare to step into the breezy, rainy night.

“Of course the night we finally have the energy to go clubbing is the night we have work in the early morning.” (R/n) chuckled into your ear as the two of you left through the doors in giggles. Once out into the storming outdoors, (R/n) and you stood by a wall under some shade as she began to order an uber through her phone to get you guys back home. You yawned as you people watched while you waited for her to order, letting your eyes wander and linger on the LA characters that either rushed past you with jackets over their head or walking with umbrellas.

Some you could assume were clubbing like you, some ran to catch cabs, some looked to be just getting out of work. Each person that crossed your line of vision were all different and unique… but there was one specific individual that made you do a double-take: the bleach blond man wearing rollerblades and blindingly bright neon that stood out in the dark night.

He was sitting on the curb of the sidewalk getting drenched by the rain with his head in his hands, seemingly sobbing dramatically. You frowned in concern and curiosity. You faintly nudged your friend. “Is that guy okay?” Your friend looked up at you with confusion until she looked over to where your eyes were locked. She wasn’t as worried as you and simply brushed him off. “Huh? Oh… Just leave him to it.”

That offered no apathy to cease your attention on the bold man. You just couldn’t brush him off no matter how hard you tried, it was like you were feeling this magnetic pull towards him. “I’m just gonna go check on him.” You told your friend as you stepped into the thundering storm with your hand acting as a shield above your eyes to prevent rain hitting them, and began walking towards the perfectly tanned stranger.

You stopped once you were right next to him, the cold droplets of water quickly dampening your styled hair. “Hey. Are you alright?” You said, loud enough for him to hear you over the rain.

The bleach blond thrashed his face out of his hands to look up at you with tears endlessly flooding out of his blue eyes and his lips trembling. “No! I am not alright!” He loudly wailed out. “Barbie got arrested! And they wouldn’t take me with her! I tried to follow them but then I got lost in this humongous place! But while I was wandering I discovered that men on horses rule this world and at first that seemed so awesome but I still couldn’t even do anything because I need a bunch of papers to do stuff! And even though I am a man, people are still not being very nice to me!”

He already lost you a while ago with his fast yet confusing words which prompted you to stare blankly, but his last complaint resonated with you enough to erupt a chuckle from you. “Yeah, well, welcome to LA.”

The man halted his dramatic crying to stare at you with his watering eyes lighting up. “Thank you.” He breathed out with a sniffle and a grateful tone of voice. Your smile twitched down and your brows furrowed at him.

“And I lost my visor cap! And now I am leaking from my eyes!” He suddenly exclaimed as he touched his wet cheeks. “But the worst part of it all is…” he reached up to grip onto his soaking wet blond locks, “my hair is WET! Why is the sky sprinkling water and making my hair flat and squishy?!” He yelled and physically jumped and yelped like a child when lightning cracked in the sky.

You didn’t mean to just stare blankly stare at him with your mouth slightly open and your eyebrows slightly furrowed, but you just didn’t know how to react to how this man, who you were now assuming wasn’t right in the head, was acting. “You mean the rain?” You finally asked with multiple confused blinks.

The man harshly sniffled again. “Well, I HATE the rain!” He yelled while glaring up at the sky like he now had a vengeful grudge against it.

You kneeled down next to him to be at eye-level. “Do you have your phone with you? Or any money?” The man wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I’ve never owned a phone.” He looked back over to you, the rain dripping down his face washing his tears away. “And what would I need money for?”

You blinked, dumbfounded in its rawest form. You just stared at him again with a complete loss for words at his question. You looked him up and down, taking in every neon detail on his skater outfit. You probably looked like you were seeing an alien for the first time. “…Do you need me to call somebody for you?”

He vaguely chuckled with a small smile as he looked at you like you were the weird one. “I don't think they'd hear you from here.” Again, your jaw went slack at your loss for words; intense confusion baffling you. “What?”

You glanced around, trying to find some sort of camera crew. Your eyes returned to the blond man who cradled his knees to his chest and reached up to touch his wet hair. He was pouting and wearing the saddest puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen on a grown man. You needed to help this poor, troubled guy.

“What’s your name?” He took his hand out of his hair and released his knees, letting his legs fall straight as he looked at his neon strain roller blades. “Ken.” “No, like, what’s your full name?” You added. He tore his eyes off his feet to look back at you. “Kenneth or And Ken.”

You forced an awkward laugh and smile as you tried to hide how you were beginning to lose your patience. “No, what’s your last name?” Ken gave you another weird look. “How many names do you people have?”

Your frown began to deepen as your annoyance began to grow visible in your features. “…So it’s just Ken?” You asked, a slight snap to your voice. “Well it’s usually Barbie and Ken.” Ken explained with a pep to his own voice. Your brows crinkled, “You keep mentioning Barbie. Like the doll? Are you named after Barbie’s boyfriend Ken or something?”

Ken shook his head with a toothy smile. “No, I am Ken.”

‘This guy must have escaped from the ward.’ You mentally noted. “Where exactly are you from, Ken?” You asked, hoping to get a solid enough answer to help you navigate where he needs to get to.

“Barbieland.” Ken answered without hesitation, leaving you once again baffled. A loud thunderclap snapped you back into your senses as the rain began to pick up. You looked over your shoulder at (R/n) who pointed at her phone, trying to tell you the uber was about to pull up. You looked back to Ken who returned to sadly staring at his rollerblades and clutching his sopping wet hair.

You pursed your lips together, deep in debating thought, until you let out a groaning sigh. You rose to your feet and draped your jacket over Ken’s head and shoulders. He looked up at you with surprise and opened his mouth to say something but you strictly cut him off. “Stay right here, I’ll be right back.” You instructed him before rushing over to your dry friend.

“Okay, so Boris will be picking us up in a gray Toyota and I’ll just request what you owe me on Paypal-” “I think we should take him with us.” You cut (R/n) off as she watched the tracking map on Uber, her eyes snapping up towards you. She glanced over at Ken getting pretty comfortable in your jacket on the sidewalk curb before looking back at you with an eyebrow raise.

“(Y/n), what?” Now she was the baffled one looking at an alien over how out-of-character your request was. However, a smirk stretched across her lips. “Usually I’m the one wanting to bring home strange men at night.” You rolled your eyes and gave her a glare. “It’s not like that.” You glimpsed over your shoulder at Ken.

“That guy is the farthest thing from my type as you can get.”

You turned back to (R/n). “And you know I would never do that to Rob.”

(R/n) visibly cringed and shut her eyes, holding her hand up to stop you. “Ew, I’ve told you before I don’t like to hear that guys name on girls night.” You slapped her hand out of your face. “We’re not gonna have this argument again right now.” You grumbled, knowing how passionate (R/n) was about verbalizing her distaste for your boyfriend Rob. She shook her head. “We’re not because you didn’t say his name.”

You sighed, dismissing that whole rift in the conversation. “I just can’t leave him like this. He’s lost and confused and will get sick in this rain.” You explained to your roommate who didn’t seem to even mind. “As long as I don’t have to give up my room or share my morning waffles and we lock our bedrooms. And if he ends up being a thief or murderer or rap-” You cut her off.

“He’s not staying the night. I just wanna get him out of the rain and send him back to whatever mental institution he came from. He is not staying the night.” You stated with a stern expression. He’d be out of your apartment quicker than he got there. It’s not that you didn’t have room for a guest, other than prioritizing you and your friends safety, you just didn’t want to take care of this crazy man any more than you had to.

After (R/n) told you you’d be taking the heavier load on the overall cost, you hurried back over to Ken who was still wrapped up comfortably in your jacket. You planted your hand softly on his shoulder, grabbing his attention rather quickly. “Come on, Ken. You can get dry at my place and we’ll try and get you home.”

Ken’s face lit up like a Christmas tree and tried to stumble up to his feet due to his rollerblades before you grabbed his muscular arm to help him up safely. You pushed away the observation of how tall he actually was when he stood up to focus more on wheeling him over to the Uber (R/n) was waving you over to.

Ken skated circles around you and (R/n) as you walked down the hallway of your apartment building as he talked your ear off. “-and then we had to ride a snowmobile through the snow, which was very cold and not good for my hair. And then that’s when we rollerbladed into Venice Beach. Barbie did not like your world by the way, like within the first second we got there her mood instantly bummed out. And then-”

As soon as you got him seated in the car, he instantly began telling you how he got to that sidewalk curb that somehow involved his whole life story. You tuned him out about halfway through, you just couldn’t comprehend what he was telling you; Barbieland, Barbie, disco parties, Kens, Barbies, beaching, Mattel, a portal, Barbie’s flat feet, horses.

It was crazy to you. His story, his words, his personality, his clothes, quite literally everything about him. You nearly began to regret picking up just another LA nutjob on the street.

“-and now I’m here with you tired looking ladies in this kinda ugly, gloomy building. They should paint these walls a brighter color. Like pink! Or blue!” Ken joyfully said with his wide smile never faltering as he continued to skate down the halls. His upbeat energy was beginning to sicken you.

He started to skate backwards to continue talking into your annoyed face. “But don’t worry, I'm positive that Barbie is already out of jail and looking for me. No doubt by morning she'll come and pick me up and we’ll go home and the two of us will finally kiss under the stars.”

A snigger finally cracked out of you. “Right.” From the snippets of his story you paid attention to, it didn’t sound like this Barbie girl he kept talking about was all that interested in him. You wanted to press on about that but knew you’d just be met with blind stupidity.

(R/n) seemed to be having the opposite reactions and opinions from you as all she did was humor his story and laugh at his jokes. What was entertaining for her was agitating for you. “Well all I can do for you is let you in for a minute so you can dry off.” You asserted as you neared your apartment door.

“Thank you!” Ken chirped out, still clinging to your jacket that was still wrapped around him. “So if she’s (R/n), what’s your name? You never gave me it.” You told him your name and he repeated it out loud, testing it in different voice tones which annoyed you even more. ‘I just need to last another hour or two and then he’s out of my life and out of my sight’ you kept telling yourself to keep your composure.

You finally reached your front door and began to fish out your keys from your purse. You rustled through your stuff and held back your exhausted groan, digging through to find them. Ken’s vibrant neon color palette still blinded your peripheral vision. You fleetingly glanced over to him, “What is it with this outfit of yours anyways?”

Ken looked down at his clothes with a confident smile and placed his hands on his hips. “You like it?” Your brows furrowed together. “No, it's just… I thought you said you didn’t have any money.” “I don’t. Clothes just come to me.” Ken said simply as you finally found your keys.

“Like people give you clothes or you design them?” (R/n) questioned. “No, clothes literally just come to me.” Ken stated with that bright grin still intact with his lips.

You stared at him with that ‘are you serious’ expression. “Why don't we see about getting you a car.” You quickly said before you unlocked your front door.

(R/n) approached you in a fit of giggles while you sat at your dining room table scanning over a map for places to drop Ken off. She grasped onto your tense shoulders as she tried to regain a steady breath after her stomach-hurting laughter from something Ken had previously told her.

“C’mon, (Y/n). Can’t he sleep here tonight?” She asked you with a pleading smile. You didn’t spare her a glance and shook your head like a strict mother, your eyes still remaining on the map. “No way.”

(R/n) sighed in disappointment and was about to go back over to the couch where Ken was sitting all wrapped up in towels until she caught the sight of him leaning all the way back into the couch. His eyes blissfully closed and his mouth open enough for a vague snore.

“Um, (Y/n). He looks really tired.” She whispered down to you. Your eyes shot up to see the couch from where you were sitting to witness Ken already fast asleep. “What? Oh, no. That's not acceptable.” You stood up, the intention of physically hurling him off your couch flaring your imagination.

“Are you really gonna make him go?” (R/n) asked sadly with a pout. You turned to her with a glare. Of course you had to be the only sensible one, taking on responsibility. Sometimes you felt like the only adult in a world full of children, the only one with a stable head on their shoulders. “Just go to bed. I’ll handle this.” You asserted.

(R/n) delicately grabbed your arm before you could march over to him. “He’s so funny though, and he seems pretty harmless.” You sighed and turned to her with a softer tone in your expression and eyes. “(R/n), he is a seriously confused and troubled man who's fallen into our laps. All I want to do is get him home.” You explained as plainly as you could.

“So he’s not gonna stay?” (R/n) asked again but put on a brighter smile to try to convince you. “No.” You harshly deadpanned. “Now go to bed.” She huffed but turned on her heels anyway in pursuit of her room.

Once you heard the closing of her door, you made your way over to the snoozing psychopath. With your hands on your hips, you glared down at him as if trying to telepathically make him wake up. You reached down to his arm, about to violently shake him awake, but your fingers halted and hovered over his toned bicep.

You glanced up to his face as you were frozen, mindlessly taking the time to get a proper look at his face for the first time. You nearly couldn’t mentally deny that when he wasn’t rabidly sobbing or babbling his mouth off, he was actually very beautiful. The most beautiful guy you’ve ever actually seen, almost like he was fake. He was too physically perfect.

You snapped yourself out of your admiring daze, almost not believing you got distracted with physical attraction. You deepened your frown and finally pushed your hand against his arm, a weak attempt to wake Mr Sleeping Beauty. You pushed one more time to find he was still fast asleep. You gruffly sighed and pulled out your phone, clicking into the Uber app.

You were just going to send him to the nearest police station, he’ll be the cops’ problem now and Ken can tell them all about his Barbie life. However, before you could hit the final button to get the car your eyes glanced up to Ken once more. Except this time you couldn’t look away as he subconsciously snuggled in the towels wrapped around him.

‘Just push the damn button and get him out of here’ is what you kept yelling at yourself. So why couldn’t you do it? Of course right when it came down to it, you felt yourself going soft for this lunatic… with very blue eyes and an innocent kind of sweet smile. Despite his prettiness and despite his aggravating immaturity, you still felt this gravitational pull towards this strange man.

You sighed and turned off your phone, ruthlessly cursing yourself at your failure to get rid of him. You just couldn’t bring yourself to kick him out, something you knew you were going to regret when he woke up and began talking non-stop again. Still, you found yourself gently laying him properly down across the couch on the pillow and replacing the damp towels with a blanket.

You denied your own small smile at his sleeping form as you left for your bedroom. You hadn’t thought about Barbie dolls in a very long time, but all of his Barbie talk made you sit in your bed in silence for a few minutes. You wished you still had your Barbie dolls with you instead of them sitting in a box in your parents basement. You just wanted to at least look at your favorite childhood toy.

Not your Ken doll though.

You buried him three feet underground in your backyard when playing funeral with your Barbie dolls and forgot he was still down there.

#reader insert #ken x reader #ken #Ryan gosling #ryan gosling x reader #Barbie #Barbie 2023 #the Barbie movie #Barbie movie #greta gerwig #greta gerwig barbie #enchanted #ken Carson #Ken Carson x reader #kenergy #I’m just Ken #enchanted movie #fluff #disney enchanted

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dejwrld · 10 months

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˚₊𓆩༺🎸༻𓆪₊˚ — summer of 22', choso kamo

y/n l/n moves to japan for the summer alongside her ballet coach and godmother utahime iori to attend a huge ballet convention for many ballerinas worldwide. entering the summer with just ballet on her mind, those priorities are put to the side when she meets record player shop employee and skateboarder choso kamo. the two of them being opposite of a coin seem to mesh together perfectly after y/n stumbles into the shop he works at out of pure curiosity. which is the start of both of them having the summer of their lifetime. a summer filled with fun, ballet, skateboarding, friendship, and obviously love.

ᩍ before reading please be advised of the following warnings: female reader, female anatomy described, written with black reader in mind, ballet dancer!reader, skater boy/band member!choso, non curse au, noritishi and choso are cousins in this ok!, first & second year trio are aged up for plot purposes, the adults in the jjk world actually trying to guide the youngins, mentions of retired rockstar!geto suguru, mentions retired ballet dancer!utahime iori, tooth-rotting fluff, smut in some portions, this lowkey self-indulgent, very fast-paced series, love at first sight trope, each chapter will have individual warnings, update dates could change or be delayed | mdni, taglist form, other creations

TABLE OF CONTENT

— (i) // who the hell listens to classical music — (ii) // lost guitar picks and late nights — (iii) // fireworks and first kisses — (iv) // late night sleepover — (v) // goodbye for now — (epilogue) // 5 years later

Y/N LN ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ CHOSO KAMO

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⸻ ✧ other chars.

— noritoshi kamo, twenty-two, drummer, employee at suguru's record shop — todo aoi, twenty-two, club security guard, tattoo artist apprentic — momo nishimiya, twenty-two, ballet dancer, part-time dance instructor at utahime's dance studio — yuji itadori, eighteen, college freshman, intern at kento's publishing, undecided major — megumi fushiguro, eighteen, freshman, cafe shop employee, art major — nobara kugisaki, eighteen, freshman, cafe shop employee, fashion merchadise major

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⸻ ✧ other chars will be added later.

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⸻ ✧ playlist.

#choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #anime smut #anime x reader #female reader #x black reader #black reader #bipoc writers #jjk x black reader #angelshubnetwork #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

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yuna542 · 1 year

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Connected (OT8 x reader)

Part 10<-

Part 11

Pairing: Jeongin x reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: 18+, Smut, under 18 DNI!Suggestive Themes, Swearing, pet names, unprotected sex (just don‘t!), bloody nose

Word Count: 5.4k

Note: Sooo. What do you think of this part? Maybe you noticed where I got my inspiration from (M/V. Making off?) Love our baby bread who is not so baby anymore… For real have you seen the 5-Star Trailer? Uffhhgg watched it like 10000000 times

On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager.

Will this passionate arrangement end your career?

When you took the note off your door in the morning, you wanted to break down and cry on the spot.

But you didn't have time for that. So you stuffed the paper into your pocket and headed off to work.

Only when you got to your office you dared to take the paper out again, and you had to read it at least three times before you understood the words on the yellow background. Your hands shook and despair gripped you as soon as the word 'eviction notice' even came into the corner of your eye.

Although you tried hard to remain calm, you could feel the frantic typing as you entered the number in your phone that was at the bottom of the letter.

After endless beeping, the administration of the building complex you were currently living in finally answered. You had gotten the apartment out of luck via relationships and it was a miracle that it was affordable despite the ideal location for you.

And now you were supposed to move out within a week because the building was going to be demolished.

After several questions, the annoyed administrative worker could only confirm to you what was already on the note anyway. You had to leave your apartment by the end of the week.

With the current rent prices it was impossible to find a halfway affordable apartment within a week and the panic of being homeless until the end of the week spread more and more inside you.

But when there was a knock on your door, you furtively wiped the tears from the corners of your eyes and put on a carefree smile as soon as Chan poked his head into the room:

"Morning, babe. We're about to take off."

You had completely forgotten about that with all the stress. Quickly, you nodded:

"I'll be right there!"

Today was the teaser shoot for the music video.

You had no choice but to put on your professional mask and start working.

As you got into the car with Chan, where the guys were already waiting, you were showered with energetic vibes. They were all looking forward to the first shoot and the energy soon transferred to you as well.

Even though you couldn't completely banish the dark thoughts from your mind, you had to focus on your work when you arrived.

The film crew was getting everything ready while the guys were sent to makeup to change and get ready.

The video would be set in a sports hall and the guys would be playing basketball. There would be some sporty and handsome shots that would surely please the fans.

Han was the first to notice that something was wrong with you.

"You look tired... Are you okay?", he asked as everyone just waited for Chan and Hyunjin's hairstyles to be done.

"Yes all good, Ji. Don't worry about it", you said quickly. Too quickly and that's when the Director began to speak.

He gave the guys instructions on how they would first shoot individually or as couples and then mimic a little basketball game as a team.

You retreated to the bleachers with the film crew and when you had a few free minutes, you looked for possible apartments, but that brought you much closer to a breakdown. You couldn't afford any of them and most of them were way too far away. You would need several hours to get to work and that would not be possible with the strict schedules.

When out of nowhere you felt a hand on your leg, you flinched violently and almost threw your phone off the stand. Jeongin looked at you with wide eyes and raised his hands placatingly.

"Take it easy! It's just me."

Behind him, Felix followed, and they both looked like they could see right into your head.

"Are you guys finished yet?", you asked, trying a half-cheerful smile.

They took you in the middle and Felix didn't hesitate to pull you into his arm.

"We just have to do the group shots. Hyunjin and Changbin are on it right now."

You put your temple against his with a sigh and breathed in his sunny scent.

They all looked really really good with the school uniforms. So the video should have a nostalgic vibe and even you felt transported back to your school days when you saw the typical uniforms. But in the past, the guys at your school had never been as attractive as the ones who were now chasing the ball in the hall.

"Do you want to talk?", he asked, and he stroked your arm reassuringly.

With a quick glance at Jeongin, who gave you a sweet smile, you sighed. So Jeongin had pulled out the secret weapon to elicit the reason for your worries.

You couldn't lie to Felix. He was too kind and bright. It was impossible to hide your feelings from him.

"The building complex I live in is going to be torn down. I have until the end of the week to get out of my apartment“, you explained quietly.

But no one heard you anyway. The song played on and off while the cameramen were busy getting good shots of Hyunjin and Changbin with the basketball.

"This sucks", I.N commented and you had to laugh bitterly.

"I’m sure we‘ll find a solution“, Felix tried to cheer you up, but you could just shake your head.

"I can't afford most of the apartments and it's impossible to find something in that short time."

The guys gave each other meaningful looks, but before Felix could answer, he was called by the director. It was time for the whole group to take group shots.

It was too funny to watch the boys trying to recreate a real game. Han was so afraid of the ball that he kept running around the others, Changbin and Chan tried to shoot at the baskets, while Lee Know and Hyunjin chased each other around the court, screaming at each other.

It took forever for them to get a few scenes halfway done, but they had so much fun doing it that they infected everyone on the staff with their good humor.

You raised your eyes as Hyunjin came up to you with his camera between scenes filming the making off.

"How do you like our godlike basketball skills?", he asked, and Han latched onto his shoulder.

You raised a thumb at the camera and said:

"You guys definitely play like professionals!"

"Why don't I believe you?", laughed Hyunjin, zooming in on Han, who posed with his legs wide for the camera:

"I'm the best player, though."

"Yeah because the rest of us are extremely bad!", Hyunjin shot back and then all you saw behind him was the basketball flying and slamming hard against Jeongin's face.

Hyunjin screamed out, who happened to have the camera right on it, and Chan was already running to the youngest, who was holding his face with both hands and wincing with pain.

Before you got past the stands, the director and the cameramen were already with him and handed him a cloth, which he pressed firmly against his nose.

But it was already too late. Blood ran down his mouth and chin and dripped onto his blue jacket.

"Who threw the ball?", asked Chan sharply, looking at stunned faces. Hyunjin had lowered the camera and Changbin slowly approached.

"That was me", Lee Know came forward, sounding concerned.

He pushed past the Director who was talking at Jeongin, but gradually the white cloth ran out.

"Sorry, Innie... Shit, I didn't mean to throw so hard."

Jeongin squinted his eyes and waved it off with one hand.

"It's okay... Never mind."

You took out more wipes from your bag and handed them to him so he could press them further against his nose.

"Stuff it up your nose until it stops!", said Chan, looking like a father tending to his small child who had fallen off the swing.

Gently, you grabbed him by the arm and said through the commotion around you:

"Come on, Innie! I'll help you clean this up."

Chan nodded curtly at you and when you saw the stressed expression on his face, you wanted to take all the heavy weight off his shoulders, that he carried around all the time.

You sat down together on one of the higher benches of the stands so that the others could continue working undisturbed. You sat down opposite him, both one leg to the left and one leg to the right of the bench.

He still had his head back and tissues stuck up his nose.

"Does it hurt a lot?", you asked cautiously, glancing down the stairs where one member of the team was already joining you.

He shook his head and his voice sounded nasal, due to the blockage in his nose:

"No. It's not that bad."

He was always like that. Just not a burden to anyone and always functioning at full speed.

The director's assistant had reached you by now and handed Jeongin more cloths and a cold pack.

"Should we call a doctor to take a look at the nosebleed?"

You were about to answer in the affirmative, but Jeongin beat you to it.

"No! There's no need for that. It's already stopped bleeding."

Pressing your lips together, you looked at him questioning, but he continued to refuse.

"Maybe the nose is broken", the assistant said, to which Jeongin again shook his head vehemently.

"Y/N can palpate me, but there's nothing broken. I can keep going!"

While the assistant tried to continue talking at him, you moved closer to Jeongin.

"May I?", you asked, and he nodded.

Then you gently ran your fingers over the bridge of his nose. As you did so, his face hovered so close to yours that you inevitably saw his gaze move to your lips and how he suddenly tensed up.

Blood still stained his chin and mouth and a few drops had also landed on his jacket.

Only because of the assistant who was present were you able to tear yourself away from his engaging eyes. Like a fox, he regarded you attentively and with so much intelligence in his expression that you trembled.

"The nose isn't broken. It all feels normal", you said quickly, pulling away before the assistant noticed that crackling energy between you.

By then, there was a call for him as well, and he finally gave up.

"I'll take care of Jeongin!", you assured him, and with that he finally gave in and disappeared.

"Thank you! Really", Jeongin said, clearly relaxing. He grabbed one of your hands and unobtrusively pulled you closer again by it.

"Let me clean your face!", you said, smiling softly and taking out a couple of makeup wipes from your bag that you always carried in case you needed it. He nodded and you began to wipe the blood from his skin with concentration and careful hand movements.

While doing so, you couldn't help but inhale his cologne. He smelled like a heady mix of fresh florals, woody lime and the first rain on a sunny day.

His charisma was more than attractive and when he was that close to you, you became restless. There was something unpredictable about him, behind the politeness, the funny weirdo and the loving nature.

It was the self-confidence that lay dormant in him that regularly blew your mind. Even though he was just a few months older than you.

Bracing yourself with a hand on his shoulder, you tried not to hurt him.

"Y/N?", you heard his soft voice ask, and you felt his heartbeat quicken under your hand.

"Huh?", you hummed busy and that's when you heard Hyunjin standing next to you again, holding the camera on you.

"Since Lee Know tried to kill our Maknae. How are you I.N?"

You looked at the camera and threw away the bloody cloths.

Jeongin raised a thumb to the camera and said:

"It's all good. It's really not as bad as it looks. And Minho's throw was also too bad to really do any damage."

"Should I try it again? Maybe next time you faint", shouted Minho then, and you smirked as you felt Jeongin's knee pressed against yours.

Hyunjin laughed and Minho looked fierce but you both could see the concern in their eyes despite everything. They were family, after all and cared for each other no matter what.

Then Hyunjin was distracted by Felix who was trying to shoot baskets with Chan and went to join them. Jeongin took the scraps of cloth out of his nose and threw it all in the trash by the stairs.

"You should cool that so it doesn't swell any more", you said, already activating the cold pack by bending it.

"Does it look that bad?", he now asked again without the nasal tone.

You shook your head quickly. Once the blood was gone, the minimal swelling on the bridge of his nose didn't seem so bad either.

"No. But we don't know what it will look like tomorrow."

He nodded and closed his eyes as you held the cold pack to the bridge of his nose. A soft hiss escaped him as the cold eased the throbbing in his head, enjoying your gentle touch.

For a while, you just sat there together, enjoying each other's presence. Jeongin could have endured for hours the way your fingers stroked his face and dabbed his nose with the cold pack.

"Does it feel good?", you asked after a while, and that's when he opened his eyes again.

"You have no idea", he murmured, relaxed, and when your eyes met, you noticed the closeness between you.

His thighs were pressed tightly against yours from the outside and you could feel his breathing on your cheek as your face was only a hand's width away from his.

An embarrassed smile flitted across your lips and immediately his eyes were fixed on it. He could just look at you and your knees went weak.

You put your other hand to his cheek to hold his face tightly because you just wanted to touch him while you continued to cool his nose. Slowly he lifted his gaze and your eyes locked together. You got all excited as he licked his lower lip and all the sounds of the shoot faded into the background.

Before you could stop him, he leaned forward and planted a kiss on your mouth. It only lasted a few seconds, yet your heart jumped out of your chest and you stared wide-eyed at him before looking around to see if anyone had watched you.

He too seemed surprised himself and couldn't quite believe he had actually done that without thinking. Looking down at the crew, you breathed a little sigh of relief when you saw that everyone was busy taking videos of Changbin.

Chan and Felix were listening intently to the director and Seungmin's hair was being fixed.

Only Hyunjin looked in your direction and slowly lowered the camera.

He tried not to let notice, but gave you a warning look.

This was too much and too public.

It was just too dangerous and you knew it. It had just happened and you hoped nobody saw it.

"Sorry", he whispered, seeming a bit overwhelmed.

You had to swallow hard and nodded quickly without looking at him.

"You should take off that jacket. Maybe we can get the blood stains out by the sink", you said, hoping that if you just didn't address it, it never would have happened. Together you walked down the bleachers and asked a couple of women from the staff where the nearest sink was. They sent you straight to the hallway and there you found a sink on the wall behind the next corner.

Jeongin slipped out of his jacket and watched you try to wash out the dark stains with water. But it was quite hopeless. The blood had already sunk too deep into the fabric.

"I think that's it for the uniform", Jeongin said, taking the jacket from you to hang it over the edge of the sink.

Just in the white shirt and tie made him look like the main character in a K-drama. His hair fell into his forehead and he shoved his hands into his pants pockets as he looked at you uncertainly. All this time he'd been strangely silent and you couldn't look at him any longer without staring. He looked outrageously handsome with his sleeves rolled up under which the veins on his forearms stood out.

"I'm really sorry about earlier", he finally broke the silence, and when you did look him in the eye now, you realized he was worried about you.

"I didn't mean to attack you like that. You took such care of me and you look so beautiful, I just couldn't control myself and I..."

You had to interrupt him, not being able to stand the way he was torturing himself.

"Innie!"

He looked at you questioningly and stepped from one foot to the other.

"I didn't think it was bad."

"You didn't?", he asked uncertainly, and you immediately wanted to kiss him to exorcise all the self-doubt. He stepped closer until your hands were against his chest and he had to look down at you.

"No. I thought it was really nice, and if there hadn't been so many people there, I would have liked to kiss you too."

A relieved laugh escaped him and he took his hands out of his pockets to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

"So you want me to kiss you?", he asked softly and you had to smile at his uncertainty. He wanted to make sure you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

"I want you to do so much more than just kiss me“, you replied with an ambiguous undertone and immediately his cheeks turned rosy and he stroked his fingers up your neck to your chin, where he lifted it slightly and placed his lips gently but intensely on yours.

Slowly you opened your lips and returned the kiss. As if in slow motion, he pulled you to his chest and deepened the kiss. He tasted honey-sweet and touched you with so much passion that you melted right against his chest. With your eyes closed, you felt his tongue on your bottom lip before he took it between his teeth and gently pulled on it. Burying your hands in his hair, you pulled him closer so he could slide his tongue into your mouth and set off fireworks in your head.

The kiss lasted an eternity and you never wanted to stop your tongues dancing together.

His fingers stroked down your back and he kissed you so passionately that your body automatically curved into his. His hands went under your skirt, grabbed your ass and pulled you closer to him until your upper body was pressed tightly against his.

You slid your hands under his shirt and stroked his firm stomach, that's when he broke the kiss to gasp into your mouth:

"I'm already dying to take you right now. Don't tempt me, sweetheart."

"I want you... right now", you gasped, and the sizzle between you was about to explode.

"Everyone else is in the other room", he whispered in your ear and kissed your neck.

You knew that, but you also knew how wet you were by now, just at the thought of feeling him inside you.

You took his hand and slid it between your legs. With wide eyes he looked at you, but immediately stroked your covered cunt with two fingers, feeling how soaked your panties already were.

"God... You're so wet", he gasped and began to move his fingers lightly against your core. Your parted lips and your fingers digging into his chest in the process made him completely lose his mind.

He instantly got hard and you felt his cock against your lower abdomen.

"Do you like it when I touch you like that?", he asked, pushing your panties aside to rub your clit directly, eliciting a gasp from you.

"Yes. But I want all of you!“, you whispered, while stroking his bulge over his pants and grinding your hips against his fingers.

Because of the sounds of the shoot behind the wall right next to you, you realised that someone just had to come around the corner to catch you.

"Fuck it…“, he suddenly muttered then and took your hand tightly in his. As he pulled you down the long hallway, you glanced over your shoulder in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

"We're leaving. You have no idea how many naughty fantasies I had about you..."

You giggled and together you ran to the exit, like little kids who had done something wrong and tried to get away with it. You felt transported back to your school days, where you secretly made out with your crush and it evoked the most exciting feeling.

In the garage, he led you to the big car.

"Do you have the key?", you asked in wonder, and when he just opened the door, you glared at him.

"We usually leave the car open. Someone always forgets something. I know it‘s irresponsible but practical.“

He opened the sliding door and let you climb in until he too came in and pulled the door shut behind you.

"This is still pretty public", he mused aloud, but you were already shoving him into the back seat, where he had been sitting between Hyunjin and Han while you had droven here, and climbing onto his lap.

Immediately he pulled you into a kiss again. Only this time he was more impetuous and you could now feel his boner clearly pressed against your cunt. Quickly you took his tie and literally ripped open his shirt to touch each of his abs one by one.

"Take off your panties! Now!", he demanded and he didn't have to tell you twice. Hastily you slipped out of your thong and at the same time Jeongin pulled down his pants and underpants.

"I want you to ride my cock. I need your pussy so bad, jagi!“

He was impatient and directly his hard length jumped out.

"Since when did you start becoming so naughty, maknae ?" you asked teasingly, climbing back onto his lap.

"Since I tasted you."

He ran both hands under your shirt and pulled it over your head. Your bra popped out and immediately he kneaded your breasts and spread kisses on them.

When he pulled back, he looked at you with a grin as you positioned yourself above him and suddenly put his hand around your neck.

With the other, he pressed you down on his length and it felt like he was splitting you into two parts. With the tight grip around your neck, you felt him fill you completely and you couldn't help but moan out loud.

"Fuck... You're gonna crush me", he growled, continuing to guide your hips until he was completely engulfed in you. You were breathing heavily as you tried to adjust to his size and he unclasped your bra and tossed it somewhere to the front of the car.

"Move!", he said and you began to roll your hips against his. His head dropped to his neck and he moaned loudly as you took him as deep as you could. Your fingernails dug into his chest as you were able to use his length the way you wanted and after a few seconds you rode him with faster and faster movements.

He held you by the hips and every gasp and moan you could elicit from him spurred you on even more. While he helped you rock back and forth on his cock, your clit was swollen and aching, begging for more. It didn't take long for your climax to grab you and you came on his dick while moaning his name. But you did not stop. You wanted to satisfy him and you felt him already twitching inside you as you tightened around him.

"God. I'm gonna cum soon, if you continue to take my cock so fucking good", he moaned and kissed your neck and even bit into it lightly, making you gasp his name.

"Come inside me! Fill me up, Innie! Please!"

Your words brought him over the edge and you felt him come and empty deep inside you with a choked gasp. You slowed down and sunk down on his cock.

"Should we stop?", you asked, breathing heavily, while he buried his face in the crook of your neck. In reply buckled his hips into you and began to push you up and down by your hips on his still hard dick.

Your clit was ridiculously sensitive from the first orgasm and you were not sure if you could handle a second one right now.

"Come around my cock again, sweetheart! Then I'm going to fuck you, like you deserve it."

His words turned you on again and you started bouncing on his throbbing cock again. You rolled your hips against his and you could tell Jeongin was holding back from bucking up into you, giving into his greedy desires.

"Shit, you're still so tight", he moaned, staring up at the ceiling, trying to concentrate on not cumming again. You knew that anyone could hear you, even through the doors of the bus, but you were just too drunk on his dick that you could care right now.

Your hands were tightly pressed to his chest, while you worked yourself to your next orgasm, which was already making your whole body tingle.

He didn't meet your gaze, instead, he watched the way his cock disappeared into your stretched hole, admiring the way your juices looked on his member.

"I love hearing you moan like this, angel", he said and guided your hips as you began to lose control due to the high that gripped you for the second time, flooding your entire body with heat. He wasted no time and while you were still working out your orgasm, he started thrusting into your cunt.

"You feel even better than the hyungs had described."

You probably would have blushed at the fact that the boys were talking about you like that, but the youngest of them was penetrating your sore pussy too much for that.

"Innie, oh god... please", you moaned and his gaze finally met yours.

"You like that? Being fucked like this?"

You might've been on top, but you were completely at his mercy by now. You were under his spell since the day you met him, hypnotized by him and his charming smile. He was tantalising you with his dark obsidian eyes. You lived for the lust-driven look in his face and his sweet groans. You bent down and cupped his face, hungrily kissing him. You kissed frantic and heated, desperate to taste each other. He licked his lips as he watched your breasts bounce with every thrust of his hips.

The filthy squelching sounds of him fucking his cum back into you filled the car and he removed his hands from your hips to reach up to cup your breasts, taking one in each hand, squeezing them.

You completely lost the sense of time, but couldn't stop urging each other to the next high. At any moment the shooting could be over and they could come back to the car.

His cock prodded against your cervix. You wondered who taught the boys how to fuck like this. Each of them fucked you in their own way and all of them were gods in this area.

Especially now you were totally addicted to the way Jeongin fucked you.

But finally you were overwhelmed by an orgasm that made you tremble. Your insides seemed to boil and as you tightened around his dick, he also came with a painful grip on your breasts.

Overwhelmed, you worked your highs out for as long as you could before you sank against his chest, breathing heavily. He ran his hand through your hair and pressed a sweet kiss to your temple.

"Was that good?"

You laughed lightly, with your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, still dazed stroking his neck.

"That was amazing, Innie."

He breathed a sigh of relief and stroked your back until your breathing calmed down.

"Move in with us!"

"What?"

You looked at him questioningly, and he knew he didn't have the right or the power to decide that, but he wanted to. You were worth it.

"We have a spare room in the new apartment. Right now it's just for storage, but you could have it."

"JYP wouldn't allow that."

"Why not? Before it takes you hours to get to work because your apartment is far away, it would be a solution. Besides, it would make our job extremely easier."

You couldn't say anything more in response, as the two of you heard muffled voices from outside, peering through the darkened windows.

"Shit! They're coming back!"

Quickly you jumped off his lap and slipped into your underpants and skirt. You felt the mixture of your juices and his cum making a mess in your panties, but you had no choice. You couldn't find your bra, and yet you saw that Chan and Seungmin had almost reached the bus.

Jeongin had already pulled his pants back up and was buttoning his shirt.

There was no more time, so you put on your shirt without a bra and just dropped into the seat next to Jeongin when the sliding door opened.

Chan poked his head in first and when he spotted you, he turned to the others.

"They're here! I told you they went ahead."

One by one, everyone got in and sat down. The driver wasn't here yet, so they looked at you curiously. Jeongin's hair was a mess and his cheeks were flushed. You probably didn't look any better.

"Where were you guys?", asked Lee Know, turning around in his seat to face you.

"Y/N was helping me with that bloody nose you gave me!", he said and Lee Know raised his hands defensively.

"Hey I already apologized!"

"We tried to save the jacket, but it was for nothing", you tried to explain your absence, but it was obvious that no one believed you.

Han had his hands clasped under his chin and was looking at you with a knowing grin, and it would only be seconds before he would say something dumb.

"You certainly had to comfort him", Changbin said then with a laugh, and Jeongin immediately stared at his shoes in embarrassment.

Then Seungmin suddenly bent down and pulled something out from under his seat. Startled, you stared at your red lace bra in his hand, which he now held up.

"Did any of you lose this? Because it's not mine."

"I usually wear black lace underwear", Chan replied, clearly enjoying the whole thing. Quickly, you jumped up and snatched your bra from Seungmin's hands.

Just in time, as the driver boarded and announced the start.

With your head burning, you stuffed the bra into your pocket, feeling the entertained looks of the others on Jeongin and you. On the way back, they continued to tease you for quite a while, but that's when Jeongin started:

"What if Y/N moves in with us?"

Immediately there was confused silence. So you explained your situation to them and that's when Chan said:

"We could ask. Maybe that's really a good idea."

"Would you really want to live with us?", Felix asked over the others and now they all looked at you attentively.

Briefly you looked down at your hands and then answered:

"I think so. Yes. It would make my job a lot easier if I didn't always have to go back and forth between the dorm, work, and my apartment. Plus, I think it could be fun."

"Don't get too excited. Living with 3Racha is like living with three wild animals", Hyunjin said, making you smile and took a punch in the side from Changbin.

Back at JYP Entertainment, you were up to your neck in work, but the idea of living with Stray Kids solidified in your thoughts and you kind of liked the idea.

->Part 12

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633 notes · View notes

islandoforder · 1 month

Note

Hi just properly scrolled through your blog for the first time and wanted to ask a question:

Re: Riz should be class president post from over a week ago - why should it be Riz over Kristen now that the class president position has stakes? Is it because of Kristen’s inconsistent access to her spells in case she needed to defend herself? I’d love to hear more about your thought process regarding this - assuming your opinion hasn’t changed since making that post.

My thoughts personally are that character-wise, it makes more sense to me for Riz to be the one strategizing as the campaign manager, because he’s the one actually finding a lot of the traps the Rat Grinders have put out for them.

Whereas Kristen makes more sense to me as a candidate purely because of her charisma and good radar for social bs - her weakness, of course, being that she’s a bit of a wild card in her choices regarding the campaign. But at the same time, she’s been able to get away with wearing a soggy salsa hat in front of the entire student body and still maintain some chance for the candidacy.

Obviously, I’m ignoring the more mechanical aspects of this comparison. If that’s what you were referring to in your original post idk then. I’m still wrapping my head around how Riz rolls so well now, level 10 dnd shit is way over my head.

Sorry if this was long, I just wanted to express my thoughts as well as hear yours! Idk how far away we are from getting back to the campaign to class president, who knows what happens after they get back from fallinel!

hi! sorry this is such a late reply, i've been away and i wanted to watch the new ep before i started posting about anything d20 in case of unintentional spoilers haha

so i think part of it is that, imho, brennan intended the class president arc to be riz's:

kipperlily is a rogue, v type a, and a narrative foil to riz, and this would have directly pitted them against one another

riz needed extra credit things for his college app, like being involved in student govt/being student president

there's also something about kipperlily being fundamentally riz but richer

kristen's arc was clearly always going to be about cassandra, trying to regain her favour, or increase her popularity, or resurrect her

nara is the kristen foil this season (once again, kristen but richer)

everyone has like an individual arc this season except for riz, bc his was supposed to be student president

beyond all of this, i don't actually think kristen is able to take the student president stuff too seriously - every time she tries, she ends up doing a bit instead, at the steel workers union, at the middle school, even at the party. i actually think if riz was the candidate, he would manage himself, in the same way that fabian wanted to be the party house and arranges that himself, and adaine needed a job and worked on and got that herself. so like i agree that he's the best campaign manager, but that doesn't preclude him from being the best candidate as well??

also, frankly, a lot of the good social graces kristen has had this year are from riz putting in the hard work - him joining all the clubs and making those connections, him taking stress to give her more popularity, his own popularity, etc.

like i'm enjoying the silliness of kristen's campaign, but i'm kind of with sklonda on this - riz would be a better candidate, and it is to some degree a shame that he's putting this much effort into running a campaign for someone else. if they legit need the student body president bc they'll become proxy headmaster, then i think a more serious campaign with riz at the helm and finally having his time in the spotlight is not a bad idea!!

#elijahtries #chatting away #riz gukgak #brian murphy #kristen applebees #ally beardsley #dimension 20 #d20 #fantasy high junior year #fantasy high #fhjy #like i'm def enjoying this unhinged and not always logical campaign but it does make more sense to be riz on a couple of diff levels i thin #it's too late now i'm p sure #but he does deserve it!!#kipperlilly copperkettle #brennan lee mulligan

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things-about-cars-in-posts · 7 months

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Which cars are most bisexual?

Ever get the chilling feeling that you made a grave mistake long ago and you are about to reap what you sowed?

In short, I hit some of my friends up to ask for help. In random alphabetical order:

@jettacar suggested the fourth gen Nissan Quest:

"It's like, no one really bought these. They aren't particularly common. But also, there's no one type of person that buys a car like this. Rationality would have you believe only families are buying this, because it's a giant minivan - but i can't immediately think of another car with a wider variety of types of people that own them right now (excluding cars that just sell incredibly well)"

Unfortunately, that made the conversation derail into minivan talk.

Up next, @rabidragon suggested the Fiat Multipla, due to its peculiar seating arrangement of two rows of three seats:

"3 seats in the front for you and your man and your woman".

Indeed, the peculiar thing about the Multipla is its row of three full-sized seats in front (many old cars had a front bench with some having three lap belts, but the Three Individual Front Seats club is as exclusive as it is devoid of prestige) and the many peculiarities that it caused, like off-center pretty much everything (mirror included) because the driver is further to the side than usual and where most of the centered things go there's now a passenger who would like to be.

But the even more peculiar thing about the Multipla is how spectacularly ugly it is. It's one of the few cars I've ever actually seen that manages to be full-on ugly not just outside but inside. Click on any list of ugliest cars in the world and if it doesn't contain the Multipla I can promise you that list was created by a machine that has since been physically shot. And if you're thinking "Well, it's not bad enough to warrant that hyperbole" - you are looking at the second generation. This is the pretty one. I put the first one and its interior at the end of the post under a read more because I genuinely did not want to be responsible for you seeing it.

I noted that Honda's FR-V managed the same seating layout with downright smart looks inside and out...

...and unfortunately that made the conversation derail into engine swap regulation loopholes.

Finally, @chevyventure suggested multiple. In (roughly) his words:

First generation Mazda 3 "It's a hatchback, good for many different uses - and Mazda is a little silly, charming and off the beaten path (if you were getting a Japanese hatchback you'd probably get a Toyota or a Honda) with a cute lil' smile like a Miata"

1988 Volvo 240 Wagon "Volvos are frequent hand me downs from family like all the cool childhood trauma the LGBTQs get"

[Editor's Note: bro.]

Renault Clio "It's peak hotness while also being cute in its own way, not necessarily preferring a masculine or feminine audience. I've never seen an ad for a Clio before, but if my assumptions about the car market are correct my guess is the normal one is kinda marketed towards women"

[Editor's note: So, I wanted to check that, so I just looked up "Renault Clio ad". These were the first two ads I found.

youtube

So yeah. I feel it qualifies.]

Unfortunately, talking about the Clio made the conversation derail into TWR's involvement in- oh wait, you're not gonna know about that Clio variant, are you.

So, many racing series can only be entered with racecars based on some production car - which is great for manufacturers, because they get to advertise their brand and one of their models simultaneously! But since there are rules on how much of the base car can be changed and how much of it must be retained, the stricter they are the more what you want as a base for your racecar is something high performance. So when you want to go racing with a dinky little thing like, say, first car to ever use plastic bumpers and only car to ever be called Renault Le Car in America Renault 5...

...what you are going to want to do is what, among many others, Toyota did with the Yaris GR and Lancia did with the Delta: the homologation special. Basically, you make a special version of the car with the characteristics you'd want in racing, sell enough to clear the rules's bar for "production car" (or at least, convince the officials you've done that), and go racing with that. So Renault did that to the 5 and hit up one Marcello Gandini to redesign it around the changes. You know, Marcello Gandini, guy most famous for designing mid-engined Ferrari-slayers:

Which makes sense, because the Renault 5 Turbo was a mid-engined Ferrari slayer. It was faster than the top-of-the-line Ferrari both in acceleration and in cornering speed. This thing.

(sidenote: The Interior. end of sidenote)

Well, twenty years on, some legend at Renault thought "You know what? We were onto something with that. Let's do that again but HARDER." Presumably, into the headquarters of Tom Walkinshaw Racing, a racing team that developed for Aston Martin, F1 teams, and made Jaguar's Fastest Production Car Ever record holder, and of course a fuckton of the most exciting racecars around, showed up uninvited that Renault madman saying "Y'all wanna work on something REAL prestigious?" before chucking them the keys to a second generation Clio and walking off with a "Don't thank me".

The result was the Clio V6, most notable for HAVING A FUCKING V6 WHERE THE BACKSEATS WERE. This car is genuinely incredible. Like, you see it and you go "Ooh ahh, the Clio V6!" and you look inside to see, you know, the huge V6 compartment thing and you see the interior and you realize this thing cost good sportscar money and when you got in it was a fucking Clio.

Mental stuff- wait shit this post was about bisexual cars wasn't it? How did the conversation derail like this? I swear this never happens. Well, I guess it's time for my pick.

Personally, chatting with Mr. Venture about hatchbacks, I realized that I cannot think of a more "girls car" than a Fiat 500 Cabriolet (which actually is called 500C) and cannot think of a more "boys car" than a Fiat 500 Abarth (which actually is called Abarth 500)...

...so how about the Fiat 500 Cabriolet Abarth?

It actually isn't called that but I think you could piece that together. As though a spoiler on a canvas roof wasn't weird enough, it contains the third brake light, probably making this the only car out there in which it can change position during use. Although I assure you, you're not gonna be thinking about that when driving it. Thing's a RIOT.

But honestly, that wasn't what I started off wanting to answer. So, last but most definitely not least, I candidate my first, gut-reaction answer: the NA Mazda Miata.

See, to me bisexuality (and pansexuality, but awareness of the nuances between them is so low they may as well be picked over flag preference) is someone appreciating all the beauty in the world, seeing no point in gatekeeping themselves out of half of it. And is that not what a spider is about? Is it not about saying "this world we're in is so full of beauty, who would rather blind themselves to half of it?". And look at the damn thing. It's bursting with exactly the kind of joie de vivre one would associate with such sentiment. It oozes enthusiastic curiosity. OwO what's this?: The Car.

Also, just look at this picture.

It can drift. IT CAN WINK. IT CAN WINK MID-DRIFT. I mean, what more than this degree of flirtatious playfulness can you possibly need to be convinced?

Links in blue are posts of mine explaining the words in question - if you liked this post, you might like those!

...

...are they gone? I think they're gone.

The Multipla pictures are down here. Go on then if you're gonna, you sick fuck.

If you have dealt with traumatic tumor-related experiences and seeing that dashboard caused you genuine discomfort, well, do not say I didn't warn you.

#lgbt cars #nissan quest #fiat multipla #honda fr-v #mazda 3 #volvo 240 #renault clio #homologation cars #renault 5 turbo #twr #renault clio V6 #fiat 500C #abarth 500C #na mazda miata

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brrambleberry · 2 months

Text

When V and Johnny burst back into the Afterlife, they begin to be known as the Cockroach. Affectionately, of course, anyone who sneered out the moniker would quickly find they weren’t able to eat solids for months or find welcome at the club.

Johnny didn’t like it at first, his ego sliced by the realisation that the people in his life did better without him in theirs. V threw humour over it when she reminded him of how he had pulled through to the other side of a nuclear devastation, and it was impossible for him to keep a straight face at any mention of it afterwards.

V was proud as fuck that her reputation was of someone difficult to kill, in spite of all the odds. Flattered as well, she took more care than was due to style and maintain her vibrant ‘ganic copper hair. Her whole schtick was being the fiery femme, the ruthless red-head, a babe serving brutal beat-downs.

Individually, they were pests. Forced proximity turned them into a fucking menace. Clair started stocking twice as much centzon as before, and Emmerick had to invest in cyberware to stabilise his blood pressure. If it had been anyone else, Rogue would have banned them long ago. As it stood, V was her best contractor, and life had become just a little bit brighter with them in it.

#cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #female v #cyberpunk #the afterlife #rogue amendiares #night city #kerry eurodyne #fem v cyberpunk #fem v #silverv #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic

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icedmatchatae · 1 year

Text

Glimpse of Us | KTH Chapter I: Finding Happiness

Pairing: Problematic Idol Taehyung x Grad Student Reader

Genre: Idol AU, Ex-Childhood Best Friends into—, Angst (Hello, welcome to my angst central), Fluff (mainly in the flashbacks), Slow Burn, Eventual Smut

Summary: BTS’s V has been living a lavished and successful lifestyle, but underneath all of that, Kim Taehyung is far from the perfect image the media and fans made him out to be. All he wants is to relive the feelings of happiness and purpose in his life, but how can he when he left behind those memories years ago? The same memories, he hopes to see a glimpse of.

Warning: Angst (from the start mwahahaha), mentions of alcohol consumption, violence, stalking, faulty media, descriptions of therapy sessions

Word Count: 7.2k

Chapter I: Finding Happiness || Series Masterlist

“BTS is the highly musically acclaimed boy band from South Korea, sweeping the charts across the globe with their wide diversity genres of music. Their lyrics consisted of personal and social commentary that moves those who listen, especially with their fanbase, ARMY. Each member of BTS have their own individual style to their work, yet still continue to play an important role to the group’s success.”

“BTS’s V shook the world, being recognized for his alluring baritone voice and exquisite “duality” and emotions on stage, as well as being coined “The Idol’s Idol” within the Kpop industry. His facial expressions, his motions, his voice, it shows it all.”

“V ranked first on the charts of being the number one most searched keyword for the past five years in South Korea.”

“V was always the first to attract those who don’t know BTS by his unique visuals, strong aura, and his intimidating gaze.”

“V is also part of Wooga Squad, a highly achieving group of men consisted of actors Park Seojoon, Choi Wooshik, Park Hyungsik, and artist Peakboy (Kwon Sunghwan). Their friendship is widely known on their platforms while supporting one another.”

“V caught the attention of many famous fashion brands, as everything he wears turns into gold, including Celine, Louis Vuitton, Gucci, and Prada.”

“V was ranked number one as the world’s most handsome and beautiful man in the world.”

“Among the members, V has the most followers on Instagram as well as the fastest growing account on the platform.”

“V is well-loved by ARMY and is supported of his endeavors. They hope to see a solo album in the near future.”

“BTS’s V gets followed by sasaeng at the park.”

“BTS’s V attacked by an influx crowd at the airport. Videos of him holding onto j-hope.”

“Kim Taehyung was seen hanging out with Park Seojoon and mystery girl?? Potential new lover?”

“Kim Taehyung (V of BTS) caught smoking before award show! Is he becoming an addict?”

“BTS V gets embroiled in attitude controversy for not greeting fans and journalists.”

“V of BTS: dating rumors with Tzuyu of Twice? JYP denies but HYBE ignores.”

“Taehyung was secretly recorded at night on the streets, drinking more than he can handle.”

“Kim Taehyung fighting in a club?? Reports of getting drunk and the idol throwing punches.”

“Are BTS’s V and Lisa from Blackpink dating??”

The cycle repeated itself as the ever-growing success of BTS continues, with Kim Taehyung being one of the members. Success, scandal, success, scandal. At this point, it was practically the same thing. Though with the achievements, popularity, and passionate fanbase, it, unfortunately, came with a price, specifically with Taehyung.

His life turned into something he didn’t expect, whether good or bad, but it could be safe to say it has been leaning towards bad. During his years as an idol, as V, his life was heavily scrutinized by the media and the fans. Through the hate comments online, unwanted paparazzi photos, and delusional headlines on topics that he didn’t even know about, it was never-ending that sadly took a toll on him.

Taehyung faced straight forward, not wanting to make eye contact with the man across from him, leaning slightly to the left. Blankness overcame his expression with the deep-set dark circles and hollowness of his cheeks. His lips peeled and swollen from the many occurrences of biting the skin off. His hair was messily styled into his “fluffy Tae bear” image as what ARMY loved to say, but he couldn’t care less about his appearance.

The ticking sound of the clock echoed within the tiny room as Taehyung hoped time only went faster. Despite the tight space, the environment was relatively comfortable. The warm fluorescent lights hanging above the two, a brown velvet couch occupied by yours truly, and a rust-toned loveseat also occupied by the professional. The walnut surface of the desk stacked with files and books by a wall and extended shelves on the opposite was in his peripheral vision.

Taehyung could sense the attentive stare the man was giving him, which had no effect on the idol. It wasn’t harsh gazing, almost curious and kind, but Taehyung wasn’t really ready to give his all. He was trying his best but didn’t know what to do. The idol almost felt bad for him, having been assigned to the professional for nearly a year with little to no progress. But the man had some steel grit and was determined for Taehyung to speak about something.

A particular question made Taehyung fidget in his seat and bounce his leg. It wasn’t too personal because everyone knew, but it still gave him chills thinking about it.

Recently, at BTS’s Festa Dinner Party, the boys announced a temporary pause on group activities except for their variety show, Run BTS, to focus on their solo projects and other activities they wished to pursue without the constant clash in the group’s schedule. Each member was currently doing their own thing, whether promotions or taking a short break. In Taehyung’s instance, the company and his fellow members thought it was a fantastic idea for Taehyung to continue focusing on himself.

Through the years and over time, Taehyung has been dealing with the pressure of the idol life and fearing that his privacy would be taken away at any minute. The heavy load caused a strain on him, a concoction of emotions, as well as changes in behavior. He got sad, he got angry, and he drank. He rarely remembered anything the morning after. He got nervous, he got stressed, and he smoked, which led to online hysteria. He got into fights with strangers, friends, and his members. Countless articles on him from a fight dated back months ago. Despite rarely interacting, he got caught up in scandals with various female idols that were obviously not true. The recent one was another Blackpink member. It has been his fourth one in the past year.

Somehow it was Taehyung getting the bitter end of the fruit, having to deal with it alone. He never comprehended how his name got caught in the tongues of the people when there were hundreds of thousands of celebrities they could choose from. Though not wanting to wish it on others, new up-and-coming idol groups were entering this industry. Idols who were quite naive don’t even know half the bullshit he and BTS faced.

Of course, there was ARMY support. But they interrupted the news differently, assuming that he’s trying to be a normal human and that he does indeed make mistakes. Others commented on Taehyung’s behavior as highly inappropriate as younger fans looked up to him. All responses are partially correct but also, in a way, incorrect in Taehyung’s eyes.

The boys’ support was incredibly different, and they understood him until a couple of years back. Now there has been a faint tension between Taehyung and some of the members after a disagreement right before the group’s announcement. Nevertheless, they were there for him, especially now.

But it was a little too much for his liking.

He has been in and out of therapy, having one session every month due to the rigorous scheduling of the group. But now, since that was on hold, it gave Taehyung the perfect time to engage with himself as frequently as possible.

Taehyung eventually gave up and told his therapist what had happened the past two weeks. The professional knew who he was and what happened with the group—having gone through a well-detailed contract of privacy—but it was appropriate for Taehyung to mention it on his own because sitting before the therapist wasn’t V of BTS but simply Kim Taehyung.

“How do you feel about all of that?” Dr. Im continued thoroughly, jotting down notes in his notebook.

Taehyung scrunched his nose, thinking what to say, “Bittersweet, I guess? You know we’ve been doing this for so long. It’s kinda like we don’t know how to act or do without the group.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, everything I’ve done for almost a decade has been in the group, for the group, with the group.” Taehyung shrugged, playing with his fingers. “Now we have this time to ourselves…almost lost I guess.”

“Can you elaborate on when you speak about “lost”?”

Being in a mood, Taehyung felt a little talkative this session. That’s what usually happened. One session, he’s a blabbermouth, the next, silent as a ghost. There was a reason why his progress was so inconsistent. “The group strived for a goal together, we worked hard and had success which made us happy, but…I don’t know. Me, I guess? I’m feeling lost where now it’s just me, and my goals, my happiness?”

“What would be your goals?”

“I don’t know. I just have my schedule.” Taehyung muttered, slowly getting disinterested in the topic. He hated that he didn’t know anything in his life. “Maybe write and do my solo album, but nothing is ever good for me. That’s why I’m probably the last member to do that.”

“I see, all that’s understandable. I can’t imagine your line of work, but I can sense that the craft takes time.” Dr. Im reassured his client with a warm smile. “You worked hard to get where you’re at. Hard work comes success and of course, at times, success can lead to happiness. Yet at the same time, there will always be struggles.” Taehyung barely responded, only with a nod of acknowledgment.

Lightly segwaying into another topic, Dr. Im wondered out loud, “You’ve mentioned your happiness. Could you describe a bit more to me?”

“There’s really nothing.” The idol bluntly replied. “I don’t feel happy. Like with the group, yeah I guess so, but just me? No.”

“So with the group, what is your happiness?”

“Maybe like, our bond?” Taehyung stated frankly. “We sacrificed things for the band and we only ever had each other. We had good times, good laughs, cries and fights. We, of course, had our fans who’ve done so much. Together, we were always so strong and understood one another, until recently…”

“What do you mean?” His therapist inquired, but Taehyung stayed silent and stoic. Though the professional attempted his best to let Taehyung open gradually, there was still a concrete wall up. That also led Taehyung into spacing out and ignoring anything Dr. Im said. But that didn’t mean he didn’t understand his non-verbal communications. He knew that Taehyung would eventually talk about it, but as of right now, it was too much for him.

So Dr. Im simply hummed and nodded before saying, “It’s okay to not say anything about that. Whenever you’re ready.”

Taehyung peered at the profession, mentally applauding how well he was with him. If Taehyung was in his shoes, he’d slap himself.

“However, I hope you don’t mind talking more so about your happiness.” When Taehyung didn’t protest and shrugged, it was a good sign to continue. “So the happiness by yourself? How is that?”

“Again, I’m not happy, or I don’t feel it at all. I never thought about it until now actually.” The idol reiterated.

“How long have you felt that way?”

Taehyung blew his cheeks out as his breath came out of his drying lips. “Probably years...maybe even the whole time since debut.”

“That’s a long time to not feel happy. How is happiness, is it important to you?” Dr. Im pointed out.

“I guess, yeah…I mean look at where I am. Fucking emotions always changing and ruining my life.”

“Emotions are never changing, you know.” His therapist explained. “But how you use it can. How were you able to cope?”

“Well, we were more restricted in the beginning since we were rookies and I used to hide it well with all the bullshit I did.” The idol responded thoroughly. “I guess over time, it got worse and I couldn’t take it anymore hence all the scandals. So yeah, I’m not happy. Life is just there. I’m just here.”

“So, when was the last time you felt happy?” His therapist questioned, sparking a new discussion up.

“Uhhh, I’m guessing before debut, the group, fans? If it’s been years.”

“So imagine the last time you felt it, and I want you to describe to me what your happiness is. What are the thoughts that came up, the emotions?” Dr. Im sought it out in hopes that it could unlock a new memory about his past.

“That sounds pretty loaded…” Taehyung tilted his head as he stared at the window.

Soft tangerine brightness leaked through the reflection. The sun settled down as he was the last client of the day, mainly due to his schedule. It was also perfect so that other clients wouldn’t be sitting and waiting and suddenly looking up to find the V of BTS coming out of his therapy session. He knew for sure that it would spread like wildfire. He wasn’t ashamed, but it was somewhat taboo, and people could warp the story to make it worse.

“Let me reword it.” Dr. Im suggested. “Before the group, before the fans, before you were V, you were simply Kim Taehyung so what was your happiness as Kim Taehyung?”

“Wow, you’re bringing me way back.” Taehyung chuckled lightly, glancing at the man nodding and waiting patiently.

The idol pondered on the question. What was his happiness as just Taehyung? Taehyung mentioned his happiness in previous sessions, but this was the first time it was discussed. Only because it has been a while since Taehyung looked at his past before BTS and as an idol. BTS and being an idol was his life. He didn’t realize that the last time he was happy went way back. It was likely when he lived in Geochang, his childhood days before leaving and going to Seoul to train. It seemed so long ago, being in his mid to late twenties, that it was all blur.

There was his family and school friends, school days, specifically recess and lunch, the farm, the countryside, and the distinct street food you could only get there. God, it felt like a fable. His life went from low-income farmer boy to this international pop star, the whole rags to riches spiel. But these memories didn’t feel real, almost make-believe, maybe even nonexistent. His mind couldn’t replay those memories right now, feeling too shy to reveal it all to his trusting therapist that all the people and their faces were erased.

Well, not all faces.

He remembered one face as clear as day, but he knew that face would forever be a lost longing memory.

It was like everyone Taehyung knew had the sixth sense of knowing when he finished his session because calls and messages bombarded his phone. The tones bounced off his eardrums, grimacing at who was raiding the device.

Sure, his group chats with the members and his friends separately. The name of his sweet, sweet girlfriend popped on the screen with texts asking “how are you” or “let me know when you get home so I could cook dinner <3.” Anyone in the world would think these gestures were supportive and caring as a girlfriend should to their partner, but now, Taehyung did not want to deal with her and eventually ignored it, putting his phone on vibrate. He thanked his therapist before leaving the office and heading down to the elevators.

As he entered the platform, his phone vibrated continuously. He groaned and rolled his eyes, thinking it was her again. But lo and behold, it was his best friend, Park Jimin. Though hesitant, Taehyung accepted the call and answered.

“Hello,” The idol greeted monotonously.

“Why, hello, my lovely giggling bear!” Jimin’s voice sounded too ecstatic for his best friend’s liking, but he didn’t comment on it as it was usually like him. “And how was your time in therapy?”

“You know you don’t have to call after every session I attend.” Taehyung commented when he stepped out of the elevator and then the building. “You’re only gonna get the same answer—less shitty than before.” He spotted one of his company cars waiting in the parking lot and walked towards it.

“I’m just worried about you. You should know that.” Jimin huffed, and Taehyung could almost see the pout evident on his best friend’s face. “Better me than Yoongi Hyung or Namjoon Hyung.”

The mentioning of their names puts a frown on him. He knew that though supportive of his path to improvement and soul searching, the way they spoke to him felt somewhat demeaning and scolding him for every little thing. Do this, not that. You should have stopped yourself before the mess gets bigger. Why are you doing that when you clearly know you shouldn’t do that? I think this is best for you. Blah, blah, blah.

Though he didn’t mention it with Dr. Im, right before everyone split to do their own thing, Taehyung fought with his hyungs, leading to Taehyung walking out of the company building frustrated and getting wasted until the following morning and not talking to them for almost two weeks. Things were said, insults were exchanged; it didn’t matter if they were right or wrong. Taehyung didn’t want to hear what’s been repeated countless times.

“I also miss you. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”Jimin announced, hoping to lighten the mood. “When I call, I wanna know how’s life for you.”

“I appreciate the gesture, but Jimin, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.” Taehyung replied as he rubbed his tired eyes.

“I know you’re not fine, Tae. That’s why I’m worried.”

The idol sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to calm himself. “Anyways, how’s your family? How’s Busan?” He wanted to switch the discussion over to Jimin, hoping he would get the notion that Taehyung didn’t want to talk about that.

Jimin paused and respired, understanding what he was doing, so he gave in and updated his best friend on his life. While Jimin was talking and he traveled through the city to go home, Taehyung’s mind wandered off, thinking back about his session. What popped into his mind was not spoken, but he explained that those memories were gone as those in it were gone, his environment changed, and the hold on his attachment was slowly loosening.

But then, his therapist said something that got him thinking.

“It’s a pain to not be able to have those things right now, especially when you know they made you happy. But having those memories are key to unlocking more ways of potential bringing yourself closer to your own happiness. Putting words into action.” Dr. Im responded, writing down more scribbles in his book yet staring at Taehyung. “You’ll know the types of people you want, you know where you should be, and understand how much you want it.”

Taehyung understood his therapist, giving him some hope but not as much as the professional intended. “You mentioned people, the types of people I wanted.” Dr. Im hummed. “What if it’s not the type of people, but just…the people?”

“What do you mean, Taehyung?”

Taehyung scratched the back of his head, gradually feeling his nerves tingling. He tried laughing it off as the man before he stared attentively. “It wasn’t the types of people I was with, but the people I was with. Actually, a person, specifically.”

“Are you willing to talk about this person?”

His therapist had no clue what or who he was talking about, but it brought out many mixed thoughts and emotions. The reference to it sent an aching twist in Taehyung’s heart. He didn’t like the feeling. It only reminded him that it was over and nothing had been the best since.

“Not, right now. No.”

Taehyung went into his house, located at the edge of the city, to avoid any disturbances yet be within the vicinity of his work. After a sasaeng threat, he moved out of his luxurious condo in the heart of Seoul and found a comfortable and lovely two-story house in a quiet yet secured neighborhood. It helped with his living situation, but not necessarily his life.

As he closed the front door, he heard feet padding down the hallway and a soft voice speaking whimsically, “You’re home!” Skinny limbs wrapped around his torso, making him tense up, but he ultimately eased himself to the touch.

He pushed out a grin and wrapped an arm around her, kissing the crown of her head. “Hi, babe.” She raised her head with her sparkling almond eyes, smiling only for and at the sight of her boyfriend returning home. He stared back and nodded, biting the inside of his mouth.

There she was—in her raw and glorified self—Na Clara, his girlfriend of five years. Clara came from an affluent family, the Na Group conglomerate, which became a stakeholder for Big Hit back in 2016. That was where the two met—at a stakeholder’s event as Clara was there for her family and Taehyung was there as part of the band to show respect and gratuity for the support the Na family has given. That very night was where everyone said, “Tae and Clara hit it off so well.”

As the rise of Big Hit increased, the CEO at that time, Bang Sihyuk, and Na Seong-jin, Clara’s father, made a mutual agreement to part ways but still own part of the stocks. But the departure didn’t stop the blossoming relationship between the two. After countless flirting and dates, the two made it officially the following year and have been together ever since. They got Yeontan together and moved in with one another, so Clara left her family home to stay with her boyfriend.

Of course, due to Taehyung’s idol status, they agreed to keep their relationship a secret. Clara was indeed a socialite but also had an image to maintain for the sake of her family. Still, it wasn’t as harsh to keep up as Taehyung’s. The company insisted on annual NDA renewal contracts to ensure the idol’s safety. There were no disagreements as Clara happily signed the papers because, in her words, “As long as I have my Tae, then I’m happy.”

Clara was kind and caring, even to the members and others around her, and it was easy to gain the support of their relationship. She was also a philanthropist and animal lover, donating to charities and helping rescue endangered species. She was a real golden goddess, the visual of South Korea. Her shining long, ebony locks, pale glassy skin, glittering eyes, a body many women referenced for surgery, and a heart that melted and attracted many citizens. Men wanted her. Women wanted to be her. But she didn’t care about any of that.

Because Kim Taehyung had her heart and only looked his way.

Those who did know deemed their relationship as perfect in every way. Perfect connection, perfect communication, perfect attraction, perfect visuals, perfect, perfect, perfect.

But it was anything but.

“How was therapy?” She asked as she lets go of him to run back towards the kitchen. Taehyung took his shoes off before dragging his feet to follow his girlfriend. He rolled his eyes at the same old question everyone’s been asking him, and Clara wasn’t any different.

“Less shitty than before.” He mumbled loud enough for her to hear. Then softer taps to the floor amplified before a sharp squeaking bark of fluff came towards Taehyung. He crouched down to carry his pet before standing back on his feet.

“You know you should try to be a bit more enthusiastic about this.” She said as she stirred some kind of soup. Taehyung glanced over at the pot and scowled when he caught a waft of it.

“But I’m not.” He shrugged, caressing Yeontan in his arms.

“Tae, do you even try?” With an annoyed face, she looked up to her unbothered boyfriend.

“Yes, I try. But I don’t know. There’s some shit I’m not ready to talk about.”

“Therapy is supposed to help you open up.” She started out the obvious, which made Taehyung roll his eyes. “If not with your therapist, then with me or the boys.”

“You guys won’t understand if I told you.” He scoffed after settling his dog down. Clara tried to grab him next, but the Pomeranian ran away to his kettle. “You would think I’m psychopath with all my fucked up thoughts and behaviors.”

“Tae, stop calling yourself that! I don’t like it when you say those things.” She scolded as she turned off the stove.

“What, I thought you loved my weird expressions.” He cocked an eyebrow as he sat on the counter table stool. An outsider would look at them and assume that he was only teasing, but in actuality, he was pushing her temper.

“Not when you say shit like that!” Clara shook her head before sighing. “You’re not psychopath, I never thought of you like that.”

“Bet you thought a lot of things of me.”

Ignoring his insufferable commentary, she said sincerely, “This is to help you understand yourself better, and understand we’re here to support you. You know…”

He didn’t even bother listening to her as his messages went off. His group chat, Wooga Squad, had all his hyungs, and they discussed late-night eating plans. Taehyung checked the time, and it was already close to eight on a Tuesday night. Nightlife wasn’t as busy compared to the weekends, so it was possible that Taehyung could hang out with them too.

“Tae! Are you even listening to me?” Clara shouted, snapping her fingers in front of his face and then shaking his shoulder.

The idol blinked rapidly, almost tunneling his vision with the phone conversation. It was a tendency he did as well as spacing out. “What?”

“Ugh, I hate when you do that.” The socialite sneered. “I was just talking to you too.”

“Can you chill? What you were saying wasn’t even that important. Jimin even said the same damn thing.” Taehyung snapped as he typed his reservation for the Wooga outing.

“Who are you texting?” Clara’s eyes attempted to leer at his phone, but she was a little too far, and it was angled in a way she couldn’t see anything.

Taehyung rolled his eyes heavily at her implicit interrogation. “It’s Seojoon Hyung. They wanted to have dinner outside in like an hour.”

“Tae, I’m already done making our dinner.” She pouted as she pushed the pot in his direction. “I made kimchi jjigae.”

“Oh, that’s what it is.” Taehyung gasped sarcastically. “Yeah, I still don’t want it.”

“Hey, I’m trying to cook more, okay?” Clara frowned. With her socialite status, Clara was attended to and pampered by maids and butlers from the day she was born. Ever since she moved in with Taehyung three years ago, she had to learn how to cook and clean without any help. Taehyung had to help her at some points, and he wasn’t the best either. Actual cooking wasn’t done until a couple of months ago as the food was always take-out. But when the idol mentioned how much he missed home-cooked meals in this therapy, Clara tried her best to learn some dishes.

“You are.” He agreed as he stood up, heading towards the door. “But I’m going.”

“Don’t you want to spend time with me?” The socialite followed Taehyung like Yeontan would. She watched him put on his shoes. “I’ve missed you the whole day.”

Taehyung exhaled before standing up straight, “I guess I can spend time with you tomorrow. I have somewhat of a free day. We’ll have breakfast together.” He kissed her head and patted her hair. He held her face in his hands. “But we’ll order in.”

Her pout shifted into a suppressing smile as she pulled his hands off her. She tugged his arms to encircle her waist, then wrapped her arms around his nape. “We better.” She tiptoed to peck his lips, transmitting shivers down his spine with mixed feelings. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

It was at the ringing of his phone that rescued him off of his girlfriend to take the call. He quickly bid farewell to Clara, who waved hopelessly before he closed the door behind him.

He answered, “Hyung! What’s up?”

“Tae, are you home?” Seojoon exclaimed through the speakers.

“I was, but I’m leaving now.”

“Stay there, Wooshik and I will be there in ten minutes. We’re dropping off Joohyuk home, said he’s got a family birthday to attend.”

There has been a somewhat unofficial addition to the group—Nam Joohyuk. Some may have seen him from Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok-Joo, Start-Up, or Twenty-Five Twenty-One. He has been slowly breaking the acting industry and stealing the hearts of fans worldwide, in addition to his modeling career. The group met him through Seojoon and eventually made his way into Wooga, coming to outings and trips.

However, Taehyung was weary of him. Sure, Joohyuk was pleasant and respectful towards the others and met the group’s criteria of being “too handsome,” but it was a bit off. Still, his hyungs loved spending time with him, and it can be assumed that Taehyung could be civil.

But he also kept his distance from him.

A sour face morphed onto the idol’s face, but his voice was poisonously friendly when he responded, “Aw, Hyung isn’t coming?”

“He said he’ll come next time, but not this time.”

“Yeah, unfortunate…” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “But yeah, I’ll wait for you.”

Walking through empty streets would seem eerie and dangerous, but it was basically heaven in Taehyung’s eyes. Wooshik suggested a place his cousin told him about, but he never looked it up until the group went. When Seojoon parked the car behind a nearby lot and got out, they realized it was completely barren.

They found out they were in a rundown part of Seoul where it was sketchy as fuck. Streetlights flickered, stray animals running, and a few individuals here and there, but they weren’t as approachable. They concluded that they were either a sex worker, a drug dealer, or someone interested in obtaining either or both. That was the one of the only reasons for anyone to be there, but it wasn’t the group’s reason.

“Wooshik, what the fuck is this place?” Seojoon scowled as they walked down the pavement. Eyes were on them, but it wasn’t the typical staring of celebrities. It was more so the eyes trying to hunt prey or wondering why the individual who clearly doesn’t fit in would come to an atypical location.

“Hyung, calm down.” Wooshik checked the maps to ensure they were going in the right direction. “It’s only the path. After that, there’ll be more activity and running places.”

“I just hope it’s not the same place as these watchers stay in.” The eldest of the bunch hoped. Let’s just say many of the sex workers had googly eyes with him the most. Worship was too busy navigating, and Taehyung felt somewhat relieved.

The idol didn’t need to hide his face or get recorded in this part of the city. Though it was a bit high-risk, there was a perk for him. Of course, he was still in constant fear of getting caught but mentally reassured himself.

All he wanted to do was get away from all these problems, but it seemed to keep following him no matter where he went. He fucked up all that time ago, leading him to where he was: sad, enraged, and nervous. He really had no hope in things and went on dragging with what little life he had in him.

To Seojoon’s relief, they reached a pretty lit area. There were convenience stores, bars, low-rated clubs, and a small community. Most people walking and passing by were elderly, but it was safe enough.

“Jesus, this restaurant better be worth it after passing by mini Hell.” Seojoon breathed out with ease.

“You’re literally the tallest, strongest, and eldest among us.” Wooshik bluntly scoffed. “Be tough like a leopard.”

“So what? You know what can kill leopards? Lions! And you know what can kill Lions? Hyenas!” Seojoon countered at his younger. “We were surrounded by hyenas, Wooshik.”

Taehyung was grateful for his friends. Yes, he loved his members to death, but something about his friend group gave him solace, especially in these rough times. They helped him out, taking him out of the fights, limiting his alcohol and smoking, and keeping various eyes on their surroundings. This time was one of them, despite the high severity of it.

“We’re here!” Wooshik disregarded his rant, presenting the restaurant. It was small and rundown, having an entrance made by a bright blue tarp. Trash cans were filled to the brim with waste and other junk inside. Taehyung could have sworn a rat passed by. There were graffiti markings on the side, but it was still the cleanest everywhere.

Out of nowhere, two clearly-drunk large-set men stumbled out of the cloth holding onto one another. They exchanged rambling and laughing so loudly to make the bunch flinch. But out came a gentle-looking old grandmother, ensuring they were leaving safely.

“You two get home safe, okay? I called a cab for you. They’re coming soon.” The lady smiled and patted their back.

“Ohhhh, Halmeoni! Thank you so much!” One of them managed to say. “Always taking care!”

“Of course, for my loyal customers!” She laughed joyfully as she was about to go back inside, but the three extremely handsome men in front of her caught her very eyes. “Oh, welcome! Welcome to DanDan! Please come in!” She lifted the tarp open for them to enter first.

Though they were hesitant, they warmed up to her kind aura, thus going inside the restaurant. Their eyes scanned the place. It was utterly different from the outside. It held a cozier and comforting atmosphere, more intimate as compared to traditional restaurants in Seoul. It had a “family-owned” vibe, despite the customers being middle-aged men or elderly couples enjoying a night out. A male server came out from the back and handed plates, followed by busing the tables and wiping them down. Potted plants surrounded the corner, a TV in the middle, and the succulent aroma of food touched their noses.

“I’ve never seen handsome gentlemen before!” She cheered. Judging by her sentence, she knew nothing about who they were, which was a good sign.

“Oh, Halmeoni! I had a cousin come here and said your yukgaejang was out of this world!” Wooshik complimented, to which the old lady clapped in glee.

“Ahh, he’s too kind. Come, come, sit wherever you want.” She motioned towards the vacant seats. As they settled down, she handed them menus before walking away. They engaged in the list of foods to even realize she was gone.

She headed towards the back kitchen, squealing like a school girl, where she found her husband cooking and one of the only two servers fixing the plates. She eyed the particular worker before she called out their name.

“___!” Your boss whispered loudly in hopes the men didn’t hear from outside.

“Yes, Halmeoni?” You smiled, looking up from the orders that were ready to go.

“Sweetie, there’s a couple of guys out there.” She grinned, hinting at you to serve them.

You squinted your eyes at her and scrunched your nose at the thought, “Please, no more. I know you mean well, but I don’t want to talk to some creep. The last man turned out to be a scum.”

“And my apologies for that. But, this time is serious!” Your boss voiced out. “They’re super handsome, like a mother’s dream son-in-law!”

“Are you talking about me?” Your fellow coworker, Kenji, who was three years younger than you and the actual grandson of your bosses, stepped into the backroom and the conversation without permission.

“She said mother’s dream son-in-law, not Quasimodo’s twin.” You retorted, to which he stuck his tongue out to you.

“Nice one, ___!” Harabeoji laughed at his grandson.

“Kenny, please tell ___ about the handsome men out there.” Though it was bothersome at times that Halmeoni was being persistent, you enjoyed it. It reminded you of how your grandmother was to you.

“Oh, yeah. They’re super hot.” Your coworker joined in on the persuasion. “But you’re probably not their type, maybe even bottom tier that it’s last resort kind of thing.” Meanwhile, Kenji was the irritated brother you never wanted.

“First of all, that was rude, and it’s the reason why you’re still single, and second, whether they’re handsome or hot or not, I’m not looking.” You reasoned, putting up a feigned smile.

“So what, you’re gonna die alone?” Kenji snorted, to which he received glaring eyes from you and his grandmother. He quickly shut his mouth and muttered an apology.

“It’s complicated, okay? I’m just trying to work and earn money.” You said before lifting your tray.

“Just have a look, kinda like window shop.” Halmeoni insinuated before concluding her suggestion. You sighed, giving in to making her happy, so you nodded before leaving the kitchen.

Meanwhile, the bunch wanted to order a whole receipt of the appetizing dishes, completely in awe of the prices and how good they sounded. The range of soups, meats, sides, and drinks was all too alluring.

“Looking at all of this made me hungry. I’m ready to order.” Wooshik bounced in his chair before putting the menu down. “Tae, you good enough to eat a lot?”

“Yeah, yeah.” The youngest one simply said. Though he looked at the dishes, his mind was preoccupied with everything. He thought the food would cheer him up, but it still didn’t meet his expectations.

“Don’t think about it right now. Just have some dinner with your lovely hyungs, and if you want to drink, we’ll buy some.” Seojoon proposed as he smiled reassuringly at the idol. “Also, dinner is on Wooshik.”

Worship was about to protest, but the eldest used his power card to make him shut up. “Yeah, it’s on me.”

During their conversation, you came out with the heavy trey and yelled, “Coming through!” You carefully paced towards another table and laid the food before dispersing it to the customers. All without knowing, you passed by him.

“I’m going to the bathroom!” Taehyung announced as he stood up. The youngest had his back facing the kitchen and passageway. “Do you know where it is?”

“I think it’s just right down the hallway over there.” Seojoon pointed, making Taehyung turn his head in the direction and find the signs leading to the bathroom. All without knowing he passed by you.

“Cute waitress.” Wooshik nudged Seojoon as he caught sight of you.

Seojoon peered towards you, smiling at the elderly couple you were serving, “Looks young though, but agreed, she’s cute.” It was easier for them to spot you as they had a view of the back.

“Let’s get her attention.” Wooshik prompted before raising his hand and hollered, “Excuse me, Miss! We’d like to order.” Once you gave that table’s food, your eyes sought for your following table to attend to until you saw a hand held up. Your eyes widened at your discovery.

Not only were they attractive, but you knew who they were. Park Seojoon and Choi Wooshik were big-time actors in the country and potentially the world. Also, as an avid drama junkie who watched every drama and movie they were in, you could say you were a fan.

But obviously, you hid the fan in you away. As of now, they were somehow customers of the family-owned restaurant in a dangerous part of the city. You were good at hiding your emotions, which was fairly easy when you walked toward them with your customer service smile and gentle approach.

“Hi, welcome to DanDan. I’m ___. I’ll be serving you today.” You greeted to their liking, and you knew this because they smiled so beautifully back. “What can I get for you?” As they ordered, you wrote it down in detail as some orders were modified. They wanted dishes that weren’t spicy, no added coconut shavings, and no lemon on one. It was very particular, but you went with it. You’ve experienced picky eaters in the past, as a waitress and in life in general.

You repeated their order, just in case you misheard, but they agreed to all. “Oh, before I forget, any drinks besides two cups of water?”

“Can we get three bottles of soju, and one coke.” Wooshik asked politely. “Oh, also three cups of water. Our other friend is in the bathroom right now.”

Hmm, another friend, they say. You wondered who it may be, Hyungsik? You knew some actors were friends with them, so it could be. You didn’t want to get your hopes high, but you couldn’t help but think if the other guy exceeded your expectations.

You nodded mindlessly, “Okay, got your orders. I will be back with your drinks.” You turned your back as you walked towards the kitchen but stopped when Kenji came out with no task.

“Oh my God, Ken. Those men!” You whispered at your coworker so no one would hear. “Do you know who they are?”

“No? Am I supposed to know?” He denied it, taking a glimpse of the men talking to one another.

“That’s Park Seojoon and Choi Wooshik!” You beamed.

“Oh my God,” Kenji gasped. “I still don’t give a fuck.” Your mouth dropped as you scorned him.

Taehyung finally left the bathroom, walking down the hallway. While he did his business, he also thought about his happiness. The topic seemed to be under the spotlight in his brain, wanting to be recognized. He wanted happiness, like, who doesn’t? He loved when he was happy. Everything felt safe, comforting, and relaxing in his life. But it felt physically and mentally impossible for him now when those memories of when he was happy had a person in them, a specific person. Someone who truly made him feel alive and shined hope into his life.

But alas, she was no more after events that were too shameful for his liking.

All these thoughts weren’t getting him anywhere. Maybe he should give up on therapy. It was all Clara’s idea, and he just went with it to stop her pestering. It had its pros and cons, but he doesn’t know where he stood with it but him going was something? Like what was said, there was now no hope, and life dragged him. Walls seemed to cave in on him, testing how far he could go.

Then he paused at the end of the passageway with dilated pupils.

He felt his body freeze up, unable to take control of his limbs. His breath stopped for a second to gaze. His growling stomach rumbled with his anxiousness. He had to blink twice to see if it wasn’t his imagination.

It couldn’t be; this was impossible; there was no way. The disbelief was vivid on his face but slowly made his jaw drop in shock as he processed the reality of it all. The door of lost longing memories opened with a flood as it crashed into his mind. Years of joy washed before his very eyes, years of hope sparked his nerves, years of happiness flashed on his face, and the years of the childhood friend he once had were right in front of him back after almost a decade apart.

“___?”

Tagged: @manuosorioh @kaal-ee

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