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#he has black eyes in the last gif
kooktrash · 4 months
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million dollar darling | jeon jungkook
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summary: jeon jungkook is well aware of how privileged he is to have been born into the life he was given. it was glamorous and influential yet close-knit and suffocating, something he thought he wanted to escape from. a trip back home to the circle of wealth and snottiness for his best friend’s million dollar wedding has reminded him of all the reasons why he wanted to leave in the first place… and all the reasons he should stay — the main one being you, the spoiled rich girl he knew was utterly perfect for him.
➣ genre/au: jungkook x model!reader [she/her, female anatomy], old money au, smut, plot [soft on the e2l/f2l tropes]
[loosely inspired by ‘crazy rich asians’ movie/book by kevin kwan]
➣19.7k words
warnings: heavy plot. smut. model oc. jk is a wander but he’s really just a rich guy in disguise. oc and jk got heavy tension but good banter. oc is kinda snotty but not really? namjoon x oc [not y/n]. rich, old money snotty bts. sex on a yacht. teasing. foreplay. oral [f and m receiving]. jk goes to town on oc. cunnilingus. unprotected. missionary. oc on top. jk is tatted up in a polo. heavy makeout. breast play. fingering. dirty talk. oc goes down on jk while he’s on the phone with hobi 😭. jk’s villain arc as he slowly turns back into a cocky rich boy hehe. jk gets sex flashbacks at dolce and gabbana
“Come on, it’s my wedding and I want you as my best man. Do it for your best friend.”
The sky had been clear when he landed, a bright blue cloudless sky that resembled the clarity of the sea he had left behind. The air already seemed stiffer and the bleakness of the airport brought his mood down almost immediately.
The only thing to make him somewhat happy to be home was the sight of the person in front of him, a huge grin on his face as he saw him. The man was dressed casual in a pair of sweats and a hoodie but the small details of his watch matched with the luxury car parked outside brought unwelcome attention to Jungkook when people stared.
“I was worried you bailed last minute,” Namjoon said with a grin as he pulled him into a hug, “It’s good to see you.”
“I wouldn’t,” Jungkook reached into the pocket of his oversized black hoodie and slid his face mask off, taking a cigarette and lighting it once they were outside the airport, “It’s been too long without seeing your beautiful face.”
“Yeah, don’t tell Yeonwoo, but I’d marry you if you weren’t such a man,” Namjoon joked, playfully flirting which Jungkook just laughed off.
“Too bad you’re not my type,” Jungkook patted his shoulder apologetically, “Besides, where is the bride?”
“Getting her hair done for tonight,” Namjoon said as they got into a Bentley Mulssane, “Also, please drive, I’m scared.”
“Hyung,” Jungkook scoffed, taking the keys anyway, “If you hate driving so much why buy an expensive car?”
“Yeonwoo liked the color,” Namjoon said as he got in the passenger’s seat of his own car, “Are you staying with your parents? I could still find you an apartment.”
“For a week? Don’t bother, I’m staying at a hotel,” Jungkook said, turning the engine on and driving out.
Namjoon sighed, “So you really are leaving again?”
“Was there ever a doubt I was?” Jungkook asked in surprise.
“Duh, kid. We miss you, you rarely call, you never visit, you barely respond and we know nothing that goes on with you,” Namjoon said, “I thought once you got your fill of life experiences, you’d come back.”
Jungkook didn’t say anything at that, sniffling uncomfortably as he tried switching the subject, “So, who’s my partner?”
This time Namjoon was the one to freeze up, staring out the window with sunglasses on and his jaw locked. With a shy smile, he asked, “Are you gonna bring a date?”
His brows furrowed as he looked at his friend, “Who’s the Maid of Honor?”
Namjoon released a nervous laugh, “Y/n L/n.”
The silence in the car was loud and from the way Jungkook’s jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed, it was easy to see he wasn’t happy about that. You? You were the Maid of Honor and his partner down the aisle?
“You know, her and Yeonwoo are close and Yeonwoo’s always thinking about who looks the best next to her on camera and obviously she’s gonna choose the runway model but listen,” Namjoon could barely catch a breath, “Y/n’s matured more now and she’s going to be there tonight so please be on your best behavior.”
“Tonight? What’s tonight?” Jungkook’s tone was sharper now and Namjoon huffed in annoyance.
“The rehearsal dinner on the pier, it was all in the catalog I sent you,” Namjoon said, “It’s for press. Our parents want to get it on Forbes and Vogue, they want to make it the Wedding of the Year.”
They both laughed at that and Jungkook sighed, “So there’s gonna be cameras?”
“Yeah but don’t worry they won’t focus on you,” Namjoon said with a smirk, “The attention’s going on me.”
When Jungkook pulled up to the hotel he would be staying at for the week, Namjoon left him to settle in with a promise that he would make it tonight so he had no choice not to. A letter from a close friend was sitting on the coffee table and he set his things down to get it.
It was a big envelope with a card and a few things rattling inside that made him curious. Jungkook turned the envelope down so the contents would fall onto his palm and a roll of condoms slipped out.
‘Welcome home buddy, enjoy the penthouse and may all your frustrations come undone — Jung Hoseok.’
The note itself made him scoff in disbelief. His womanizing friend making jokes before they’ve actually reunited. He left the things on the table and left to shower, doing what he could to make himself look presentable for tonight.
Tonight was the beginning of a soon-to-be hectic week of photoshoots, brunches, parties and finally the wedding. You were one of the ones front and center, never taking the limelight from the bride but carrying your own sense of grace that had people turning heads when you walked into a room—or in this case riverwalk.
You vowed to appear your best tonight and opted for a silk, powder blue Prada dress paired with Swarovski crystals on your neck. You did your part as Maid of Honor, directing all attention to your friend, polite smile and gentle assurance when needed in front of a crowd. Yeonwoo found it comical how well you fit into character when you need to.
“The perfect friend,” Yeonwoo joked as you dabbed smeared lip gloss from her lips, “What would I do without you?”
“Oh, I hope you never have to find out,” You said in a gentle voice that feigned innocence and longing. Yeonwoo laughed as she was called toward other people and you let her go as you found the nearest server holding a glass of champagne. You took a glass, turning toward the railing overlooking the shore, tipping your glass back and chugging as much of the drink as possible.
“So this is where the Maid of Honor will be spending her night?” A familiar deep voice spoke up from behind you and a mischievous smile grew on your face. You set the glass down, straightened your posture and turned to him with a soft gaze.
“Now you know that’s not fair, Joon, I’ve been with Yeonwoo most of the night,” you told him, already motioning for another server to give you a glass, completely ignoring the man standing beside him.
“I believe you, darling, now why don’t you come say hi to the Best Man,” Namjoon pushed Jungkook forward who just glared at him in response, “You remember Jeon Jungkook, right?”
“It’s been two years, not ten,” You said, finally looking at Jungkook with a glimmer of annoyance in your eyes, matched by his stare of unamusement.
“Alright well why don’t you two get reacquainted while I search for the gorgeous love of my life,” Namjoon said, making his escape as quick as possible.
“You counted?” Jungkook asked, taking just one step toward you, trying to stop his eyes from trailing down your figure.
“Of course,” You said sarcastically, “I’ve just missed you so.”
He couldn’t stop the roll of his eyes as he turned to the water, “You knew we were partners?”
“Obviously, I know everything,” you said with a scoff that had his tongue pressing against his cheek, clearly annoyed, “Like how you’re staying at one of the Jung’s hotels instead of home. How you plan on leaving still, where you landed, how long you’ve been her—“
“So you’re stalking me?” Jungkook asked, only half joking.
“Don’t you wish,” you laughed, “You’re all over the news.”
His smile dropped. When he had nothing to say, you grew bored and left him behind, making sure to lightly graze your fingers against his arm as you said, “And just remember, you’re the one who despises me, not the other way around.”
With that, you left without looking back and he was left watching the sway of your hips when you walked away.
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Money rules the world, even when people want to say it doesn’t. The people who have it are living the dream and the ones who don’t, want the dream. It doesn’t even have to be the luxurious wonders of the world, it could be as little as financial stability or surviving. At the end of the day, it was a Rich Man’s world and this group of individuals were born lucky.
First, the groom: Kim Namjoon. The man with it all, the money, the family, the education, son of millionaires with three hospitals in their name and a line of pharmacies all across the globe.
The bride: soon-to-be, Kim Yeonwoo. The heiress to half a dozen airlines, an airport funded by her family for decades and a beautiful island in her name off the coast.
Kim Seokjin, practically a prince, generations worth of politicians, the highest education and a trust fund worth millions. He was the one you’ll see with the president or in Australia, golfing with men in charge.
Jung Hoseok, the hotel heir to a chain of ten thousand hotels across the globe. He was the one you’ll most likely catch partying in Venice with a princess whose name he couldn’t actually remember—or maybe giving a waitress the night of her life.
Min Yoongi, eldest son of an elite banking firm formed a hundred years ago. He was private about his life, similar to Jungkook, he only came out when he was summoned by one of the others.
Kim Taehyung was wild as Hoseok but more quiet about it. He’ll soon be heir of the billion dollar empire his family built in the Art world of museums and curations and performing arts.
Now, Jungkook’s story was a bit different from the others. His family worked in land development, most of the country being built on the backs of the Jeon’s who brought cities to rural areas and avoided the public’s eye.
They had the kind of old money that everyone knew, even when they tried to stay out of the news.
It was the kind of old money, people could never stop talking about and you understood what that meant most.
There was a mystery to the fortune of your family, it was old money, so old nobody knew where it came from. Some say oil, some claim aristocrats but it was too far back, and too private for any to know. All the public knew were the generous and loving philanthropists and their perfect daughter, the Nation’s Sweetheart, you.
You really were loved by all, the camera, the press, everyone. They all saw the kind, innocent girl in the public’s eye but only a few saw the snotty, spoiled and downright disrespectful side of you that was real.
Where Jungkook craved independence and isolation from his family name, you soaked in it. The attention. The money. The dependence, you were the complete opposite of him and it drew him insane.
One might ask why he was around you if he really did despise you, but for a long time it wasn’t up to him. The group didn’t all become friends one magical night when you compared your family’s net worth.
No, this bond had grown between galas, private academies, horse riding lessons at the country club and family businesses. It was a very elite, classist society where only the ultra rich could really only trust in each other and keep a country afloat off of it.
Do you think Namjoon would have been allowed to marry Yeonwoo if her parents weren’t as rich as they were?
Do you think Seokjin would have married his wife that he met at Oxford if her family hadn’t been international shipping magnates?
It was like a spider web, they were all connected in some way, all controlled and that’s what Jungkook hated.
He loved his friends, truly, but he hated the control. Not a single one of them had real freedom and every little thing they did came with a price and he couldn’t live that way anymore. He understood his own privilege and how lucky he was to grow up in such a way but he knew there was more to life than just that. When he left home for the first time, he didn’t expect to feel so free. It was like a sense of independence he’s not sure any of his friends have felt and now that he’s back he’s reminded once again of how suffocating it all is.
There had to be at least a hundred guests in attendance tonight and he couldn’t find a moment of silence. The suit he wore felt uncomfortable and he hated the way it seemed to confine him, make him more rigid and stiff.
“Please Jungkook, I was only being funny. Did it bother you that much?” Hoseok asked with a tinge of mischief in his voice.
“No,” Jungkook shrugged as he looked around the banquet hall, “I just found it unnecessary.”
“Really? I would’ve assumed the opposite considering you’ll be spending a lot of time with Y/n this week,” Taehyung said with a shrug as the three of them stood off to the side, talking amongst themselves as the guests of the charity banquet focused on your parents who stood on stage making some speech about the importance of giving.
As if on cue, the spotlight turned toward you where you smiled politely and acted shyly for the cameras.
A scoff left his lips as he pulled his gaze away from you, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Hoseok chuckled, “Oh come on man, everyone knows you have a thing for her—you’re really bad at hiding it.”
With a roll of his eyes, Jungkook stepped away from his friends, “You guys don’t know anything.”
He didn’t have a thing for you.
Sure, you’ve known each other for a long time but that means nothing. He’s known them all for a long time and if anything he's made his distaste toward you pretty evident. When you were younger it was only because you were so spoiled and the attention had to always be on you. He hated watching everyone fall for your sweetness and do whatever you asked of them. He almost fell for it himself a couple times but then he would see the way you judged or looked down on people and he just despised you more.
There’s nothing about you that attracts him aside from your looks…
Tonight you were dressed more modestly in a Chanel sweater and skirt set that looked like you would soon be relaxing at the country club. You wore a black headband with a bow on it and satin gloves, looking as polite as ever while you talked to anyone who approached you.
You were the perfect, doting daughter and anyone with eyes could see that.
“So how mad are you?” Yeonwoo asked once you had settled back in your chair next to her and Namjoon. Even Namjoon seemed to listen in on the question, waiting to hear what you would say.
“What do I have to be mad at?” You asked with a tight smile as you reached toward her to fix a slight smudge on her cheek, “ Jungkook?”
“Well, we know you have some sort of disliking toward each other but…” Yeonwoo bit her lip nervously, “Joonie and Jungkook are really close.”
“We know you two don’t like each other but you should have expected this, right?” Namjoon chuckled nervously, “You’re both our best friends and…”
“Am I saying anything?” You asked.
They shared a look with each other, “I guess not.”
You smiled, “Okay, then let’s just make sure everything runs smoothly this week.”
You did in fact feel a type of way about Jeon Jungkook but you weren’t going to admit that right now surrounded by so many people always lingering around trying to listen. You’ve learned to be very careful about how you act in public and there’s no way your friends will get you to act out by asking about him.
Jungkook was not someone you wished to exhort so much energy on. He wasn’t worth anything to you and despite how many years you’ve known him, you’ve never wished to get to know him. You don’t care where he goes when he’s not home or who he talks to, nor what he does. He doesn’t cross your mind at all through your normal day to day and you surely weren’t going to let him in this week. All he has going for him is his money and his looks.
Ever since you learned he would be the Best Man you thought about what that would mean and accepted that he would be the one to walk with you down the aisle. Despite not being happy about it, you managed to hide your resentment quite well.
You know how he feels about you and over time that’s made you develop a disliking toward him which you find only fair. He might dislike you for being spoiled but you dislike him for being so entitled.
For some reason, he thinks distancing himself from this life means he’s better than everyone else and you hate that. He thinks that by moving away and making his own money suddenly makes him different than the rest of you but that’s not true. He just wants to act like he’s self made so he can feel superior to all of you trust fund babies and that is what annoyed you.
After some time third wheeling, you were getting tired and slightly annoyed watching the couple act lovey dovey. You hated couples, they grossed you out even if they were your best friends.
“Mind if I keep you company? You look like you need it.”
With a furrow in your brows, you turned to face the person who felt the need to whisper in your ear and get close to you without permission. A smile spread across your lips at the man standing directly behind you, his arm draping over your front and hugging you.
“Hello, darling, I’ve missed you,” Jimin’s voice was soft yet sultry and you gave each other kisses on the cheek in greeting as he moved to the empty seat beside you.
“I didn’t realize you were back,” You said to him, “How was Paris?”
He released a sigh, “Oh the usual, shopping… a few events here and there.”
“Mhm, and when’d you get back?” You asked, now intrigued by his presence.
“Just last night. I was planning on visiting you earlier but things came up,” Jimin said, adjusting the Swiss watch on his wrist, admiring the shine, “What has happened since I was gone?”
“Oh God, he’s back,” Hoseok rolled his eyes from across the room, “I ran into him in Marseille the other day and the guy wanted to act like he didn’t know me.”
“He’s been insufferable since Uni,” Taehyung muttered under his breath, “I don’t understand why Y/n puts up with him.”
“Who?” Jungkook asked, only half curious. He hadn’t been paying attention until he heard your name and his reason for hearing it was purely coincidental.
“Park Jimin,” Hoseok clarified, making Jungkook look closer at the man who sat very close to you, making you smile and touch his arms when you spoke.
“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Jungkook seemed indifferent as he looked down at his glass of champagne, trying to resist the urge to look back at you.
“Not at all,” Taehyung said, “He’s just some guy we went to Uni with here. I don’t know how he met Y/n though, probably at some shitty party but he’s nobody that matters.”
Well… Park Jimin was the son of starlets. His great grandmother, his grandmother was an actress, his mother was an actress and he’s been in a few independent films here and there. He spends most of his time sailing on yachts or speaking of the Cannes Film Festival. He’s insanely rich, but he’s still not rich enough despite his accumulated generational wealth.
Unlike Jungkook’s wealth which held actual value especially in real estate, Jimin’s just didn’t compare to his or any of his friends for that matter. So why did you seem captivated by him?
He is aware he shouldn’t think this way, it’s only him reverting back to his old self which was all arrogance and entitlement. He shouldn’t think about how much wealthier he was compared to Jimin.
Unfortunately, Jungkook couldn’t seem to drag his gaze away from the pair as he tipped his champagne glass back, liquid pouring down his throat.
“Do you think she’ll take him to the wedding? I doubt Namjoon or Yeonwoo would ever invite him themselves,” Hoseok said and the three seemed like a group of gossips, the way they huddled around each other.
In Jungkook’s defense, he was barely listening to his friends. He was too busy watching the interaction happening not far from where he stood, eyes narrowed trying to understand what was happening.
First, he didn’t like you. He found you unbearable and you were the epitome of everything he hated about the High Society he had been raised in.
Second, he was only looking because you were next to his best friends. Maybe he wanted to see how in love Namjoon and Yeonwoo were but he couldn’t see because of you and your… friend.
Third, he wanted to know how you managed to stand out in your outfit despite the room being filled with people in extravagant clothes.
“I’m not sure, actually, rumors say she might,” Taehyung said and Jungkook couldn’t help but look over.
“What?”
“We’re just wondering if the Maid of Honor would bring her little boy toy to the wedding,” Hoseok said, looking at Jungkook as his jaw tensed, “What do you think?”
“I don’t care if Y/n brings anyone, we’re just dates for the pictures and ceremony,” Jungkook said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“So are you going to take a date too then?” Taehyung asked.
“Maybe,” Jungkook said as a server came around holding a tray of champagne glasses and he switched his empty one out for a full one. He didn’t bother to look back at his friends as he began walking away, “I’ll be back.”
“It’s so hard for him to act like he doesn’t care.”
“Kook! Come here, man,” Namjoon said with a wide grin as he saw his best friend walking by them. Jungkook didn’t bother glancing down at you as he greeted his friend.
“Kooky, I haven’t seen you all night,” Yeonwoo stood up to hug him, “Please don’t seduce my future husband, everyone has already RSVP’d.”
“Oh Yeonie,” Jungkook softly caressed her cheek, tipping her chin up to look at him, “If I wanted him, I would have had him by now.”
“Joon!” Yeonwoo whined clinging to Namjoon who just winked at Jungkook, further amplifying his fiancé’s feigned sobs. Jungkook smiled watching her squirm and without him meaning to, he let his gaze fall toward you.
“Y/n.”
You met his intense stare with your own and you could hear Jimin say he was going to get a drink but you didn’t look at him. You looked down at what Jungkook was wearing—a plain black Prada suit, how boring. “Jungkook.”
“Is that who you’re bringing to the wedding?” Jungkook asked, looking back at the infamous Park Jimin who stood with Taehyung and Hoseok, all three of them pretending to enjoy each other’s company.
“Maybe, we do get along very well,” you said with a sly smile as you stood up, not yet reaching Jungkook’s height but he didn’t intimidate you, “Is that a problem?
“No,” Jungkook said, voice low and deep, “I was just curious.”
“And why were you curious?” You asked, a mocking tone in your voice that he didn’t like, “Do tell me, how often are you curious about what I do?”
A scoff left his lips as he looked away from you first, “It was just a question, don’t get ahead of yourself and think you matter to me more than you do.”
An evident pout appeared on your lips and for a second his expression changed with worry but the moment was fleeting. You just laughed [giggled, actually] and with a gentle touch to his arm, said, “No need to lie to yourself.”
His eyes narrowed, anger bubbling up inside him when he heard a shutter of cameras going off, flash in his face and without thinking, he took your hand in his and left.
“If you plan on kidnapping me, it won’t work,” You said teasingly as you left to some dark corner behind large pillars.
“I’m not going to put up with a week of your games,” Jungkook said as he let go of your hand, missing the way your eyes fell to the black ink on his knuckles—something you had never noticed before, not even on the yacht when it was dark out.
“Then stop playing into them,” you said with a laugh, “If I drive you crazy, why bother talking to me at all? I think we’re both very capable of ignoring each other enough to not have to say a single word.”
“What I mean is, you can put on this act of yours for the cameras but don’t drag me into it,” Jungkook told you, ignoring the idea you had thrown out there. He was referring to your strange smiles and touches you give him when in the public.
“I’m not dragging you into anything,” You rolled your eyes, “And you seem to forget all eyes have been on you since you got back—heir to the Jeon Corporation. What do you think people will say when they find out you dragged me out here all alone? The Big, Bad & Rebellious Jeon Jungkook and The Nation’s Sweetheart, me.”
His eyes shut with a hint of anger that he tried to subdue, “Sweetheart?”
“That’s what I said,” you smiled sweetly to prove your point making him scoff.
“You’re not a sweetheart, you’re a spoiled brat,” Jungkook said, looking down at you in your pretty clothes with your pretty jewelry and your pretty face.
“Nice of you to finally notice,” you said bitterly and with a roll of your eyes, you pushed into his shoulder on purpose as you walked past him, “But we’re all the same, aren’t we? Just some of us like to act all high and mighty because you leave home craving independence, ignoring your privilege to seem like better people.”
Jungkook felt the jab of your words but he let you walk past him without a rebuttal.
With a sense of frustration, he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to collect himself to rejoin High Society and finish the night with his head held high.
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When Jungkook left his hotel the day of the Bachelor Party, he hadn’t been sure what to expect. Hoseok had done most of the planning for it since he had been abroad and when it comes to Hobi, you never know what to expect. It was almost two days of festivities and it was only toward the end that everyone would separate into their respective groups. That meant that once again he was forced into the same place as you.
The yacht sailed toward the private island the events would be at and as big as it was, he couldn’t escape you. There were the main group of friends that were always together and a few added guests, mostly Yeonwoo’s friends. Hoseok had already been hyping up the party tonight more than anything and everytime Namjoon would grow more worried. He didn’t need a big party thrown by his notorious womanizing friend.
“So what do the girls have planned?” Jungkook asked Namjoon as they sat at a table, looking at everyone aboard. Some people wore little clothing, others casual clothes, you wore something in between. It was casual yet attractive.
“ I don’t know, something probably calmer than what Hobi’s got for us,” Namjoon said but his friend had tuned him out after the first part, “Y/n planned it all and leant us the Yacht for the guests.”
“The yacht?” Jungkook asked, looking around at the luxury super yacht.
“14.7 million dollar yacht for Y/n’s birthday last year,” Namjoon explained to Jungkook, “She wanted a Booze Cruise.”
Jungkook couldn’t help but scoff, ���So Y/n got a yacht?”
“It comes in handy, doesn’t it?” A soft voice spoke from behind him and his breath hitched. You looked over to Namjoon, “Yeonie is looking for you.”
“The wife calls,” Namjoon said with a cheesy smile as he left you two behind.
“So, are you ready to go party with Hobi tonight?” You asked with a laugh, “I heard he’s got some former Miss Universe models coming in.”
“Oh, fun,” Jungkook said, slightly sarcastic.
“Kook, you’re not old enough to not like partying with models,” You teased making him look over at you. For a moment he wondered if what you said had a double meaning considering you were a model but he didn’t want to speak up about it.
“I’m sorry, I’m not a party animal,” Jungkook said truthfully, only a hint of joking as he looked around at the packed floor, “I think even this is too much.”
“Wow, how could you be a former Socialite if you don’t like partying?” You asked, “Is it all that time in the jungle or desert you spent alone that changed you?”
Jungkook could hear the sarcasm in your tone but he knew it wasn’t in an offensive way. He had backpacked to a small village in Indonesia for a few weeks before leaving to Nevada or Dubai—and he hated that you knew it all. He enjoyed traveling alone and experiencing things alone; he doesn’t need parties with too loud of music or too many drunks. He’s like Namjoon, they want to celebrate with their small group of friends rather than a party full of strangers who don’t even know what the occasion is.
“It might’ve,” Jungkook said, clearing his throat and checked the time.
You didn’t say much else after that and he got the impression that you grew bored talking to him. He looked at you still waiting to see if you would say something else but instead, you just looked off into the distance, not bothering to hide the sudden boredom you must have felt.
He’s sure he could have found something else to say to you but it was no use when he could see you beginning to slip away when you looked down at your cellphone with a bright smile. You didn’t utter out a goodbye as you left him behind to answer your phone, “Chimmy, I’ve missed you. How’s Morocco?”
“Warm,” Jimin said, “I’ve just finished a shoot and I believe I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Oh I won’t be home, remember?” You said as the final thing Jungkook was able to hear from you before you walked away.
Jungkook couldn’t help but look after you, thinking about who might’ve called you and how things were handled and he had to be honest, he was curious. He wasn’t attracted to you but he found you attractive… He thought you were charming and charismatic but not enough for him to want you, maybe…
The two of you just seem so different. He’s seen as the Black Sheep of the group, not because he’s not wealthy or attractive but because his past decisions have apparently been awful ones.
He was never one for parties so he wasn’t wild and defiant. He did make a declaration to leave all the money behind and pursue his dreams—something rich people were not allowed to do. Especially not if you were next in line to inherit it all like Jungkook was.
You are more free than he is and yet you like being in your bubble. You like the glamor and the responsibilities because unlike him, you know how to play both sides. Do your parents care that you’re out wasted at European raves or sailing on your yacht with a foreign prince? No, why? Because you know how to act like the innocent, perfect princess you’re supposed to be.
Jungkook can’t pretend that well. He can’t hide his tattoos or piercings or signs of nonconformity.
So, yes, he finds you attractive but he can’t let himself fall for you when he thinks you’re too different from each other. It just doesn’t stop his brain from thinking about you though.
“Have you seen Y/n?” Jungkook asked Taehyung who had been sandwiched between two women he couldn’t name.
Taehyung, evidently drunk, shook his head no, “Are you ready to confess your undying love for her?”
Jungkook rolled his eyes, scoffing as he said, “Fuck off.”
All Taehyung did was laugh, making the girls he had his arms around laugh too and Jungkook left feeling annoyed. He was just curious to know where you were, that’s all. Namjoon and Yeonwoo are busy making their rounds, greeting and thanking everyone on the boat and his other friends were off doing their own things. He’s already spent too much time sulking by the railing, staring down at the dark blue water that he can’t take it anymore. He doesn’t want to drink to the point that he’s drunk so really, his last hope is you.
“Have you seen Y/n?” Jungkook asked as he went to the rooftop where Hoseok was sitting in a hot tub full of strangers. Hoseok looked like such an asshole [something Jungkook had permission to say] with his designer sunglasses and Vacheron Constantin watch, just barely above the water surface.
Hoseok barely glanced his way as he said, “I don’t know, check downstairs.”
That was all Jungkook needed to know before he was heading down to find you. It took a while of asking any person he passed by, where you might be and through all this, he couldn’t remember why he was looking for you in the first place.
He had no idea where he was going, he just found himself walking down what felt like endless corridors of rooms, following the directions of whatever housekeeper he could find. The boat really was big, and he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that this was a simple birthday present.
“Now, who do we have here?” You looked down the empty hallway toward the man in front of you. It pained you to see just how attractive Jeon Jungkook really was.
You have to admit, he really knows how to dress for occasions. The rare times he’s photographed in some news article, he’s dressed casually, clearly trying to hide from the public eye but now that he’s back it seems his fashion has picked up. He wore a striped black flannel Dolce & Gabbana shirt tucked into cream colored slacks, and matching velvet black slippers from their newest collection.
“I’m just… wandering,” Jungkook cleared his throat, whatever excuse he had made up earlier, completely out of mind, “What happened to your dress?”
A large red stain adorned the front of your pink dress from the chest down your torso. You looked down at the stain with a roll of your eyes, “Some stupid bitch worker. She’s off the boat tomorrow.”
Jungkook widened his eyes, feeling you brush past him and down the hall, “So you’re firing someone for spilling a drink?”
“Um, this is Valento? Do you know how hard it is to get rid of a stain like this?” You asked with a slight scoff as you went to the door straight at the end, pushing your key card in to open it, “It took the dry cleaners ages last time.”
“I didn’t take you as an Outfit Repeater to be worrying about things like that,” he stopped at the door, already looking around at what was evidently the master cabin. The water out the windows was a dark, midnight blue and it reflected into the room of silver and gray. It had a walk-in closet, and king sized bed with a view of the open water and a private deck. He didn’t dare go in and put himself in personal quarters with you.
You gasped, stopping your movements of rummaging through your closet to say, “I am an environmentalist.”
He couldn’t tell if you were being serious or not and he had to fight back a grin at how un-woke you sounded considering you were ruining the planet with a private yacht of this size.
You pulled out an off-white dress, a Jaquemus piece, ‘La Robe Artichaut’, “Ugh, after this week, I am firing a lot of people.”
“What happened this time?” Jungkook asked, leaning against the doorframe watching you, waiting for you to kick him out but you just went toward the windows overlooking the dark blue ocean. As much as you claimed to not get along, you talked like old friends.
You reached your hands toward your back, attempting to undo the back of your dress on your own, “I told my assistant not to pack anything close to white and she packs this dress? I swear people can’t do anything right.”
“If people ask just say you’re supposed to match me,” Jungkook said referring to his slacks, “Yeonie won’t be mad her Maid of Honor is wearing off-white.”
“I guess,” you sighed, letting go of your dress and not bothering to look back at him as you said, “Undo the back.”
Jungkook stood silently at the door, staring at you with dark eyes. The fabric of your dress was thin and soft to the touch—he could just tell with the way your figure had so effortlessly shaped the dress. It is a real pity you had to change out of it, he’ll admit that, but now he’s been asked—no, demanded—to help you to take it off.
He has no idea why you think you could just boss him around but this seems to have always been the case. The two of you were never close in the past but the very few times you would run into each other… as much as he hated it, there was always some sort of tension there.
With your back to him, you hadn’t seen the way he silently made his way across the room, shutting the door behind him as he went right to you. You could sense his presence behind you, see his reflection in the dark window and feel his rough fingers brush against your back.
“I meant to tell you, I like your shoes,” You said casually, his fingers beginning to work the knot that tied the ribbon of your dress, “My friend wore them in Paris just a week ago.”
“Friend?” Jungkook raised a brow curiously, his eyes trained slowly on the ribbon he was ever so slowly pulling loose. His gaze shifted to your reflection in the window as he pulled a little rougher than earlier, “Is this the one you’re always running off on the phone with?”
“You mean Park Jimin?” You asked, not bothering to react at all to his roughness or his speed, “Yes, him.”
You could feel Jungkook’s deep exhale as he pulled it as loose as he could while still being appropriate, “Are you seeing him?”
A mischievous smile couldn’t help but make its way to your face as you turned to face him, holding your arms around yourself modestly, “Is that what you wanted to talk about all along? You could have asked me earlier instead of spending who knows how long looking for me.”
He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself agreeing with you, and with a tense jaw he asked again, “Well, are you?”
“I’m going to get changed,” you motioned toward the door, telling him to leave, “Unless you want to help me with that too.”
A scoff left his lips as he took a step back, annoyed that you wouldn’t just answer his question and annoyed he even cared enough to ask. What did it matter to Jungkook if you took a date? He wasn’t in a relationship with you and he barely considered you a friend.
When he wasn’t here and he was traveling, he was perfectly fine not knowing a thing about you aside from whatever article or magazine you appeared in. Why now that he returns and he sees how… glamorously beautiful you are, is he curious about you?
“And just so we’re clear, no, I’m not seeing Jimin,” You told him as he walked toward the door, stopping midway to listen to you, “Because I know it would make you jealous.”
To be honest, you didn’t think he would actually be jealous, it’s just a joke. Something about you just gets under Jungkook’s skin and it wants you to push his buttons that much more. As obvious as it was that he wasn’t at all amused by your sweetness, it was your arrogant charm that seemed to get him every time.
You knew you were beautiful, you knew you had every right to be arrogant and as much as Jungkook could deny he’s attracted to you at all, it’s very noticeable. You’ve never been told no a day in your life. You’ve never been rejected either and you know Jungkook wouldn’t dare reject you if you actually went for it.
Despite how vocal he is about his distaste toward you, you can’t help but still get giddy in his presence. You just want to rile him up and know that he’s attainable to you. You’ve always had a thing for him, he was an absolute gorgeous man and he was wealthy, extremely wealthy. He was educated and had class but at the same time he was rugged and intimidating. You’ve seen the small glimpses of ink on his knuckles and you just know that under all his long sleeves, he had more to show.
Whether you felt seriously for him or if you just figured it’s a spur of the moment situation, you want him.
“Jealous?” Jungkook attempted to scoff but the word caught in his throat with some truth to it, “Why would I be jealous?”
“I don’t know,” You shrugged, sliding the strap of your down your shoulder, “Because then you would have to share my attention with someone else.”
Jungkook knows he should leave. You had asked him to leave yet you kept going back and forth, and it was stopping him from doing so.
He should go.
He needs to go before he does or say something he’ll regret.
If he caves in to your taunts then he’ll be disappointed in himself, like part of him was allowing his return to his old lifestyle of luxury and privilege.
“Y/n, you always say things you don’t know,” Jungkook asked you with a deep voice that had you smiling, practically feeling him give in. His gaze was dark and there was no hiding the growing tension, “And you must think you’re real cute trying to act out now that we’re alone.”
“No, I know I am,” you said, not backing away from the eye contact. “And you know it too.”
“I don’t,” Jungkook loomed over you, eyes tracing down the curve of your nose and to the slight part in your lips, “I think… I think you’re…”
You blinked up at him, “Well say it, or are you too busy thinking about kissing me?”
An annoyed huff left his lips as one of his hands pulled you toward him at your waist and the other tilted your chin up until his lips were grazing over yours. You reached toward him, making the first real press of your mouths together and there was no use in acting like he hadn’t been in fact thinking about kissing you.
Jungkook let his eyes fall shut as yours did and he pulled you closer into his chest with the hand on your jaw sliding down toward the curve of your neck, making sure you didn’t pull away just yet. You kept up with the pace he had set of slow yet hungry kisses, pulling on your lips or letting his tongue slide against yours tenderly.
“Well?” You gasped feeling his soft lips kiss along your jaw, his soft black hair brushing against your face, a light scent of his shampoo or cologne that left you feeling intoxicated. The hand he had on your waist tightened at your words, pulling away with a quiet grunt, he looked you in the eye.
“Don’t ask me any more questions,” Jungkook groaned, the taste of your lips still on his tongue and there was a light sheen of gloss coating his lips from yours.
It’s shameful for him to admit how easy it was for you to break him down into every other man who seems to fall at your feet when given the chance. This is exactly what he didn’t want and now he’s pulling the godforsaken stained dress he undid and watching it slip down your body, revealing your naked form to his hungry eyes.
Above your bedroom was a deck filled with people celebrating the soon-to-be newlyweds while the Best Man and Maid of Honor are in the master cabin, half undressed, and stumbling onto the bed.
Jungkook was gentle but firm, he wasted no time popping the buttons of his shirt open, exposing the toned muscles of his body and the ink covering most of his arm. Your eyes scanned the markings, surprise and wonder evident on your face with how well he managed to hide how much he’s gotten done since he left.
“Surprised?” Jungkook asked, eyes low when your hands ran over his slacks, pulling at his belt and nails lightly scratching at his abdomen. His voice dripped with arousal when you sat up from beneath him, pressing light butterfly kisses to his abs and tattoos.
“You always surprise me,” You admitted, not as teasing as before but with a hint of playfulness still there. You looked up from his chest, the height of your sitting form and his standing one looked endless as he towered over you. “For instance, I didn’t think it would be this easy to get you in my bed.”
You kissed along his neck now, sitting on your knees to reach him better and nipping at his sensitive spots. His hand tightened around the neck of your head, not pulling your hair but definitely getting your eyes on his, “Why do your words sound so dirty when you say them so… “
Jungkook couldn’t even finish his sentence before succumbing to you once more and kissing your lips. With little force applied, he was laying you back down on the bed with his tattooed and muscular body just melting into yours effortlessly. With one hand on your neck and the other sliding down to the curve of your thigh, it felt like he was all over you.
“Let’s take this off you,” Jungkook murmured between kisses down your neck as he began to finally take off the ruined dress that had been in his way since you got him to undo it in the first place, “You’ve been teasing me with this since earlier.”
“Maybe because I wanted to see you get worked up,” you sighed as you made yourself comfortable on the king side bed, your body slowly unveiled to his hungry eyes. Once he had pulled the dress off you completely and threw it to the side, sitting up between your spread legs and staring.
Jungkook didn’t bother with discreteness as he eyed down your naked body still in shock that he was seeing it before him. Your breasts were on full display and the only piece of fabric hiding you was a thin lace underwear that felt so nimble and soft under his fingertips, so easy for him to just tear off of you. You looked gorgeous laying so pliantly underneath him and he couldn’t help but let his hands slide down from your bent knees to your inner thighs.
“Did it work?” You asked just above a whisper as he hovered over you, leaving needy kisses between your breasts while he tugged at the hem of your panties until he was sliding them down your legs.
“It really fucking worked,” Jungkook groaned as he cupped your boobs in his hands, letting his tongue lick at your pert nipples and feeling the way they stiffened underneath him. Your hands went to his hair, legs nearly wrapping around his torso when you felt his teeth lightly press into your nipple, sucking and tugging when needed.
His kisses began to run down toward your navel with his hands replacing his lips and kneading your breasts in the palm of them while he moved down to lay between your legs, “I want a taste, pretty girl.”
“Then get one,” you said in a whiny tone that had his big rounded eyes turning to look at you with surprise. A knowing smirk falling on his lips as he lifted your knees and pulled your thighs apart as far as they could go until he was eye level with your pretty cunt. Jungkook was never one to stop and tease when he needed sex, he had a tendency to get a little rough and take what he wants but it’s so hard to move it along when he’s met with the sight of you laying so pretty for him. He could tell your patience was running thin with how long he was taking to do anything and just before he felt you close to snapping at him, he leaned into you.
“Oh fuck,” you gasped in surprise with the sudden swipe at your clit by Jungkook’a flattened, long tongue and you’ll admit it caused goosebumps to form on your skin. You couldn’t see the way he smiled as his hands circled around your thighs, repeating his teasing flick of his tongue, feeling the way your folds began to react to him.
He felt your fingers run through his soft hair for anchor and for some reason that slight grip you had on him had his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he let himself get lost in the taste of your pussy. No longer up for any sense of teasing, Jungkook lets his mouth fall open, kissing your wet heat with his tongue pressing between your folds and finding your clit. Your hips were slowly bucking into his face, showing him just how much you liked his tongue and he knew just what to do to have you coming undone underneath him.
He sucked your clit into his mouth, his lips wrapped around the hard bud while his tongue swiped against the tip of it. He began a repetition of that and grazing his teeth ever so softly against your sensitive folds knowing he found your weak spot when he sucked your labia into his mouth and had your soft moans filling the cabin.
“Jungkook,” you moaned softly, fingers tugging at his hair roughly, “Oh god.”
He didn’t dare pull his mouth off you to give you a response and instead let his actions grow rougher. He unwrapped a hand from around your thigh and slipped it down to your pussy where he let his finger begin to draw patterns into your labia, so close to your entrance that he could feel your arousal quite literally leak out of you.
Your body was filled by pleasure that Jungkook was bringing you and you couldn’t help but bring your free hand to your neglected chest, trying to fill the void that Jungkook’s hand had left as you groped your breasts. Jungkook looked up completely enamored with the way you played with yourself while he ate you out and without any second thoughts, he pressed his long middle finger into your waiting cunt.
“That’s it,” he whispered, pressing a light kiss along your pelvis, “Cum for me, darling.”
“Jungkook,” you whined as he pushed a second finger in, hooking them upwardward just past your pubic bone and finding that soft, spongy spot with ease. With the way your walls fluttered around his fingers, he knew you were close and all it took was his lips around your clit while thrusting into that pleasure spot of yours, for you to wrap your legs around his shoulders and shake with release, “Oh my god.”
“Mm,” Jungkook groaned with pleasure, feeling your arousal flood his fingers in your release. He looked down at his wet hand, bringing it to his lips where he licked off the release that threatened to drip down his forearm, “Sweet.”
You looked like a mess trying to catch your breath and come to understand what had just happened between you to think too long about the fact that he was pressing his fingers into your waiting mouth till you licked your own release off him. He lifted a brow as your tongue circled around his fingers while sucking on them with your cheeks hollowed in. It had his breath hitching, trying to pull his fingers back out before he came just from that and began to pull at his own pants.
“Condom?” He asked in an unusually low and raspy tone. You blinked, “It’s fine, I’m on the pill.”
He didn’t press for more as he kicked his slacks and briefs off, hard cock pointed up stiffly. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. You wanted to wrap your lips around him and take him deep in your mouth because his dick was surprisingly so fucking pretty you just needed it desperately.
With your mind decided, you attempted to sit up when he pushed you back down, cock in his hand as he gave himself a couple strokes to relieve some tension and pulled your legs apart, “I need you now.”
“Impatient, are we?” You asked with a laugh, making yourself relax when you felt his cock head brush against your exposed clit. Jungkook wasn’t paying attention to what you said as much as he was to the way his mushroom tip fit perfectly between your folds.
A soft gasp left your lips as he pushed it against your clit, playing with your labia and letting the clear liquid that dripped out of his tip, coat your clit.
“Fuck,” Jungkook took a deep breath as his cock nearly slipped inside of you, playing with your earlier release to cover his length in it, “Such a pretty pussy.”
With an annoyed roll of your eyes, you grew tired of his teasing and with a quick hook of your leg around his slim waist, you pushed his cock into you eliciting a deep groan [almost growl] to slip from his lips, “Fucking hell, Y/n.”
“You were taking too long,” you moaned, legs falling back again as you tried to ease the slight pain that came from his thick member entering your tight walls. Jungkook’s hair was brushing against your face as he looked down at the way you took him in, “I was trying to be gentle.”
“Did I ask you to be?” You asked with a scoff. Jungkook rolled his eyes, spreading his legs further apart and digging his knees into the bed for support as he covered you with his body, laying down to plant a quick kiss to your lips. “Brat.”
“Jeon Jungkook,” your manicured nails traced down his back until your hands were under his thighs as if ready to make him move on your own, “Are you going to fuck me yet?”
He couldn’t help but scoff in disbelief, an amused smile on his face and without saying a word, he pulled out until on his tip was past your ring of nerves, and suddenly pushed back in. Your lips fell open in a silent gasp as your eyes locked with his and he smirked.
“You need it that bad?” Jungkook asked as he pulled your legs up, pressing them toward your chest and holding them down with his arms as he kissed your neck, dragging his cock back out, “How bad?”
“Jungkook,” you groaned, trying to move your hips but in this position it was useless, “Start moving.”
“Make me,” he kissed the tip of your nose, slowly sliding himself back in just a little. You rolled your eyes, moving your hand to hide your face as you felt yourself getting annoyed.
Jungkook was smiling like this was all just so amusing to him and with his lip pulled between his teeth, he thrusted in with little restraint, starting a slow yet steady rhythm, “Don’t hide your face, darling. I wanna see the Y/n L/n moaning for me.”
“Fuck you,” you shook your head feeling your pussy tighten around him with your legs pulled to your chest unable to escape his thrusts that were becoming more rough by the second.
“Come on darling, you can do it,” Jungkook groaned, feeling like he was on cloud 9 from the way your pussy took him in. He doesn’t know how to explain it but he felt really fucking good right now. He’s not sure if it’s that he hasn’t had sex in a while, or if it had something to do with the fact that it was you, but he was fucking you with all his energy, letting himself relax and just feel good in the moment.
“Jungkook,” you moaned his name, hand slipping from your face so you could wrap it around his neck, “Kiss me.”
“Kiss?” He asked, out of breath as his rhythm faltered and without thinking, he let go of your legs and let them fall back onto the bed as he tilted your chin up with a hand to kiss you. He set his other hand down on the bed for support, getting lost between your lips and your tight pussy.
Jungkook’s tongue licked against yours swallowing your moans, “Y/n, it’s s’good.”
“Mhm,” you circled your legs around him, “Fuck.”
Jungkook kissed down your neck, hands sneaking down to your waist and with one swift movement, rolled onto his back with you on top. He needed a change of pace because if he kept going, he would cum sooner than he wanted to and he needed you to cum one more time for him so if that meant letting you get in top, he would.
And it had been such a good idea because the sight of you sitting on his cock, leaning back and placing your hands on his thighs instead of chest, made him more excited. Your knees dug into the bed and with your fingers scratching at his muscular thighs and raised your hips, lifting yourself off his cock before plunging him back in.
“Fucking hell,” Jungkook groaned throwing his head back into the pillows, a hand on your hip but not daring to take control, “That’s it darling, fuck yourself on my cock.”
“Jungkook,” the new position was having him reach newer parts inside you that had your thighs shaking, “I’m so close.”
“Take it,” Jungkook growled, holding you in place as he dug his feet into the mattress and began to fuck up into you, “Take my fucking dick, fuck.”
“Oh my god,” you fell forward, hands scratching at his chest, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten, “I—I can’t. Jungkook, baby, oh my—“
“Take it,” he groaned, grabbing your hips harshly and moving once again so he was on top, thrusting into you despite how hard it was getting to pull out of your tight walls, “Take it.”
“I—I,” your lips fell open in a loud cry, pinching his biceps for stability, and felt your walls come undone. For the second time in less than hour, your orgasm hit you hard. Jungkook released a string of grunts, feeling your pussy convulse around him and his cock was greeted with a flood of warmth that had his legs shaking, trying to support him but he couldn’t take it. He barely had time to slip out before he was letting go, his cum dribbling down to your thighs as he let out one final moan of your name.
His body seemed to collapse down next to yours, panting and out of breath, “Fuck.”
The two of you were a mess, sweaty and sore and all you wanted to do was lay down and possibly sleep but where you were did not go past you unnoticed. You searched around for your cellphone, knowing you set it down somewhere before trying to change and found it on your nightstand with six missed calls from the Bride-To-Be.
Jungkook took a deep breath, sitting up and looking down at the mess the two of you made on the bed. He got up, not bothering with covering himself up as he found a towel and tried cleaning himself off with it while you got on your phone.
“Duty calls,” you joked with a sigh as he came to your side and began to wipe down your thighs. Yeonwoo sent you a dozen messages talking about a midlife crisis of some sorts. You sat up carefully, thanking him for handing you your robe and you slipped it on.
“What happened?” Jungkook asked with an awkward clear of his throat as he began putting on his clothes again. He’ll admit he was taking his time getting dressed and you left to the bathroom to freshen up.
“I don’t know, something with the gift boxes for everyone. I think Yeonie’s assistant forgot them,” you told him as you found new underwear to wear, making sure you were cleaned before putting them on. You left the door to the bathroom open to talk to him but you still changed into the white Jacquemus dress from earlier.
You walked up to him and he got the memo about zipping your back up and this time he couldn’t help but lean down to press a kiss to your shoulder blade, “Are you going up yet?”
“I’m gonna touch up my makeup first,” you told him honestly, “You go ahead.”
When Jungkook reached upstairs again, finding the party just as he left it earlier, it’s like nobody noticed he had even left for so long. They were all too focused on your new dress — which Yeonwoo absolutely adored on you. He found a glass of champagne and tried to escape from the swarm of people trying to hold a conversation with him when he wasn’t thinking clearly at all.
Unfortunately for the two of you, the matching off-white shade of your clothing and the sudden mark on his neck wasn’t lost on anyone else. Soon, pictures from every angle possible would paint a story neither of you wanted.
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There was a sense of guilt that came with disassociating yourself from your best friend’s wedding plans. Jungkook could barely remember what they had done once they got to the island after a surprising night of visiting your cabin.
He hasn’t had an actual conversation with you since that night and he has to be honest and say, he barely remembers the actual wedding. He hadn’t seen you since the yacht before being dragged away by Hoseok the following day to do some activities for Namjoon’s groomsmen. You had gone to do your Maid of Honor duties and he’s felt out-of-loop since.
The entire day had been packed with things to do and he’s aware he looked dashing in every photo the photographers took of him in his 12,000$ Kiton suit. The matching suits they all wore made the groomsmen look classy and cohesive while the Balmain dresses the bridesmaids wore made them elegant and surreal—well at least for you.
That’s what he thinks is the problem.
His best friends got married and yet all he was able to think about was you. It didn’t help that despite the wedding being on a private island, there was still press everywhere, capturing every angle of this beautiful matrimony between nepo babies.
The reception had been filled with various questions from various interviewers that left all your shared friends staring at you suspiciously—especially when questions of the hickey on his neck came forward.
As awful as it sounded considering the 46 million dollar wedding in the mountains of an island was stunning, he could barely remember half of what hadn’t been photographed. He left the day after the wedding with an excuse that he had things to take care of where he’s currently at and his friends bid him farewell.
He got to the mainland a day before the others and it gave him time to return home before he left on another voyage alone.
“How was the wedding?” His older brother asked, swinging his mallet just slightly, trying to find his nail before shooting the ball through the hoop, “I can't believe I was caught up in meetings all week in Tokyo.”
Jungkook looked oddly bright today compared to how he felt and he didn’t want to say it was because his casual and boring clothes he wore abroad stuck out here in ways he didn’t like. That’s why today—his last day home—he visited his family’s 150 acre estate for a game of Croquet and possibly tennis, wearing a matcha colored Loro Piana cashmere polo with short sleeves.
“Um, it was great,” Jungkook said as he brought his cigarette to his lips and lighting the end before inhaling.
“That’s it?” JungHyun asked with a scoff as he motioned for Jungkook to take his turn and he took his brother’s cigarette, “Did you have an orgy with any models or were you your usual gentleman self that won the crowd against me?”
His older brother had been well known in his younger days for many reasons, his partying, his charm, his youth and education. When he was in his mid twenties, you could always catch him in some article their parents tried taking down in regards to driving under the influence or insulting a server. Unlike Jungkook who preferred a quiet life he could escape to, his brother did not and now he’s some big shot finance guy because his attitude growing up had ruined his chance of inheriting everything from their grandparents. Now it will all go to Jungkook—something they’re all aware of—and maybe that’s why JungHyun makes snide remarks here and there.
He’s not asking about the wedding because he’s curious, he’s bitter that despite his perfect appearance and Jungkook’s more intimidating kind, Jungkook was still the most well-mannered of the two and therefore the favorite—if only he stayed and fulfilled his duties.
“No orgy,” Jungkook said with a hint of disgust as he finished his round of the game, one step closer to winning, “Just Y/n.”
JungHyun had been mid-swing when he mentioned you and his aim went astray making him miss the next ring, “What do you mean just Y/n?”
“I slept with her—“
A loud and annoying laugh cut him off as JungHyun let his mallet go, “Ah, so you can’t remember the events of your best friend’s wedding because you were too busy sleeping with the nation’s sweetheart? Oh I cannot wait till father hears about this, maybe your wedding is next and then you’ll finally step up to the plate.”
Jungkook scoffed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means now that you’re back, and dating the richest girl in the country, there’s no way Father won’t hand you down the company now,” JungHyun said bitterly, “And everyone said you running away would be a bad thing, but clearly it’s reminded you of who you are.”
“I’m not… I’m not staying,” Jungkook said, “I leave tomorrow but I wanted to see you all. And Y/n and I aren’t going to date, it was a… um.”
“Mistake?” JungHyun asked, “Jungkook, don’t be an idiot. You’ve been obsessed with her for years.”
“I have not.”
“You have, you just don’t want to admit that all your talk about being independent and leaving the money behind to be free was complete bullshit,” JungHyun said with a scoff, “Or why would you mess around with her of all people. A relationship with Y/n is going to put you at the top once again and there’s nothing that won’t be handed to you—and she’s someone mother would approve.”
“You’re dramatic,” Jungkook huffed, “One night doesn’t mean we’re dating or getting married or any of that other shit. I still don’t want to run the business… I just want, I don’t know.”
“Yeah, you never know what you want,” JungHyun said, “But whatever, if you’re set on running away again, so be it. I’m tired of trying to make you see how you blindly follow along with everything you seem to hate.”
“Master, your wife is on line three and she’s wondering who is picking up the kids.”
“Fuck, I don’t know,” JungHyun groaned, annoyed and no longer interested in talking to his little brother, “The driver?”
Jungkook watched his brother leave him behind and with a defeated sigh, he left.
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“So are you leaving?” Youngi asked him as he watched the bubbles in his pink champagne, “Or have you changed your mind?”
“I haven’t changed my mind,” Jungkook said stiffly as he fixed the suit jacket he was currently getting fit into, “I’m just postponing my leave but I have a few things to take care of here.”
“Like with you and Y/n?” Youngi asked, making sure the fitting room at Dolce & Gabbana was empty aside from just them two. Jungkook didn’t even flinch at the mention of you. Since the two arrived at this store his vision has been filled with large framed photos of you and your dear friend Park Jimin all over the store. Apparently you were one of the brand’s favorite Ambassadors and they made it known you modeled their products. Right now he’s facing the mirror with a picture of you modeling a satin baldonétte bra and high waisted panties. You looked beautiful and seductive and its been hard for him to not just stare at all your pictures since he got here. Now Yoongi is attempting to bring you up and he refuses to give in to the extent his relationship with you has gone.
You haven’t even spoken since the wedding and even that had just been an exchange of pleasantries and no real depth to either of your words.
“No, with my father,” Jungkook said stiffly as he shrugged off the suit jacket and called in the stylist to find something else. Yoongi sat up in his seat slightly more interested, “Really? About what? Don’t tell me you're back in the running.”
“We're going to discuss it,” Jungkook mumbled to himself.
He wanted to make one thing clear, his decision to seek out his father and work out some sort of plan where he can get back into the job he had been assigned to do, while also having freedom had absolutely nothing to do with you. It has nothing to do with the fact that you’re here, and he’s interested in you, and that it would be his parent’s dream for him to stay and be in a relationship with you and also take over the business finally…
This was his decision because his brother’s right. He can't just keep running away.
“And what do you mean, with Y/n?” Jungkook asked, clearing his throat awkwardly as he glanced up at your five foot photo framed above the mirror, remembering the shape of your body against his, moaning his name and tightening your walls around him.
“Haven’t you heard the rumors?” Youngi asked as he got on his phone, “It seems as though you have competition.”
Jungkook didn’t need to be told more as he took Yoongi’s phone from his outstretched hand and read what was on the screen with furrowed brows.
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At the end of the article, in big, fat letters, the conclusion said: ‘Now the question is, will L/n choose the best friend, Park Jimin, or the elegant and influential Best Man, Jeon Jungkook—possibly as the country’s newest IT couple?’
When he gave Yoongi his phone back, there was no denying the sudden irritation that contorted his features. It’s not like he expected this to not happen but… he doesn’t like what they’re implying. Yoongi studied him closely to see if he would get a response, but Jungkook gave nothing away. Instead he just ordered the tailor to pack the two suits he tried on so he could buy both, “I’ll meet you out there.”
Yoongi left Jungkook to get changed and while he stood alone in the fitting room staring up at your boudoir photos framed around him, he took his phone and dialed your number.
“Hello?” Your end of the call sounded hectic, louder and busier than his did. You were in the middle of an interview for Vogue and were taking a short break. It seemed like he called at just the right time since you were getting your makeup touched up.
“Are you busy?” Jungkook asked with a sharp tone that fell on deaf ears when the call went silent for a moment. He really did admire the photo of you, remembering just what it was like to trace his hands along your figure.
“Who is this?” You finally asked, making his jaw clench slightly.
“Jeon Jungkook.”
“Oh you see, I wouldn’t have known that considering you didn’t even say a hello or anything,” You told him in a sarcastic tone that made him want to smile but also roll his eyes, “Besides, I am busy.”
As if on cue, the call of your name in the background made your claim concrete. He bit his lip in thought, wondering what it was you were doing and how long it would take, “When can I see you?”
A smile played on your lips as you held up a finger to your assistant who was trying to hurry you along, “Did you make an appointment with my assistant?”
He couldn’t help but scoff as his gaze turned toward a glare, practically imagining that picture of you smiling at him, “I didn’t know I needed one, darling. When can I schedule one?”
“I’m not sure, i'll let you know,” you said and before Jungkook could respond, the call ended and he was left in shock that you just hung up on him. He gathered his things and met Yoongi outside to pay, completely bewildered by the fact that you just hung up on him so easily. He knows you haven’t spoken since the night of the wedding where you were forced to speak but this is all he gets?
“What took you so long?” Yoongi asked as they left Dolce & Gabbana with new things.
xxx-xxx-xxxx: Appointment scheduled for, 6:30 pm today, L/n Residence @ the Northbrook Estates
Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief at the confirmation of an appointed meeting with you tonight.
The night on the yacht had been unexpected yet also long-awaited and now that its done with, neither of you seemed to know what to do about it. You wont lie and say you didn’t enjoy that moment with him but you were also realistic. You and Jungkook would just never work out, you’re too different on the outside and that’s why you’re so confused now as to why he called you.
“So, Y/n, its been a busy season for you this year,” an interviewer said as the camera zoomed in on your expression as they continued, “Not only did you walk thirteen shows but I hear you also celebrated your close friends wedding. How was that? You must have been exhausted.”
“You know it was a lot but it was exciting, I hold my friends dearly and I’m just thankful I was able to make time for such an event,” you said and you’ll admit your response sounded scripted. You didn’t dive too deeply which is what you’re sure the interviewer wanted. You should have known that this stupid interview wouldn’t just be about your newly established modeling career.
Whether you’ve become Model of the Year for your catwalk, or for nepotism, you didn’t are much either way. All you cared about was the fact that the interviewer has found a way to slip in questions they didn’t need to know. It’s like you can just sense the things they’ll ask and have already prepared and calculated the exact responses you need to give.
“Of course, and what a star-studded party,” the interviewer continued, “The Best Man being Jeon Jungkook must have been exciting for you.”
“Well, we’ve all known each other for a long time now so…” You cleared your throat, looking a bit disinterested.
“Yes, of course,” the interviewer said with a nervous laugh, “And pardon me, Y/n, but I just have to ask, did anything happen between the two of you on this very intimate trip?”
Your smile strained but you never looked anything less than sweet as you said, “We are all just very close friends. Most of them have supported me in modeling.”
It was a clear attempt on your part to direct the conversation back to what it was supposed to be about. She ignored your last comment and said, “So… I guess we’re all curious, some pictures from the parties were released of the two of you awfully close in certain open waters, and an evident hickey on his neck—not to mention the matching clothes, please, is there something between you and the heir of Jeon Corporation?”
“Nothing that should concern you, no,” you smiled sweetly and the interviewer seemed to freeze up, unsure if she had gone too far in her questions.
Silence filled the space around them and there was no way to cut these parts out since it was a video shoot and after a while of the interviewer struggling to find which questions to ask, a person who worked for you stepped forward, “How about another short break?”
The interviewer released a shaky breath while the both of you made your way off camera and your glam team was quick to touch up your hair and makeup as the director of the shoot approached you, “Y/n darling, how are we feeling?”
“Annoyed,” you answered honestly, “I thought this was supposed to be about my modeling.”
“You’re absolutely right, darling, we apologize for any mistake we’ve done on our part, I—She must have taken it as an opportunity to ask her own questions and I promise you, we will have a deep conversation about this. We aren’t TMZ…” the director said and you rolled your eyes.
“I’m done filming if she’ll be the one continuing the interview,” You told him as you began to walk away from him, not caring for the excuses or whatever and you can hear your publicist repeat your words to him.
It wasn’t even that she was bad at her job or that she asked anything too deep but she just quickly got on your bad side with her persistence to not let the subject drop.
In the end you got your wish and filming ended smoothly before you were driven away to whatever was next in your schedule, trying not to think about the interview or the fact that there was a chance you would be seeing Jungkook later.
Things are evidently strange between you two and its not like you’ve been blind to the articles or posts about you but you don’t want to address anything. That night on the yacht seems like a fluke and like it shouldn’t have happened at all despite how you felt in the moment. Your parents aren’t the type to be invested in what is put in the tabloids but when their lifelong, country club going, friends call them and ask if there’s anything between you and Jeon Corporation’s Jungkook, they’re going to want answers.
It was just one night, one night where the two of you put aside whatever indifference you had toward each other just so you could release tension and this is the consequence for that. Of course everyone would want to know and of course no one was able to turn a blind eye to you. Even Yeonwoo managed to ask what you had been doing in the cabins withJungkook or so long that night and even when you tried to ignore her she kept pressing you for an answer.
In truth you had nothing to say. You were both adults and it didn’t matter if anyone else was dying to know if there was anything going on between you.
You resented each other.
You had sex.
Plus, he’s going to leave soon and you don’t think that bothers you?
When your driver pulled up to the tall skyscraper you called home, you headed inside alone.
“Good evening, Miss L/n,” the lobbyist held the door open for you, “You have a visitor waiting in the lobby.”
Your brows furrowed, checking the time before heading to the library where sure enough, Jeon Jungkook was sitting by the fireplace reading whatever magazine was set out for him. At the sound of your Miu Miu kitten heels, he turned staring at you with his big rounded eyes being the only thing you could see beside his face mask, “You’re early.”
Jungkook wrapped an arm around your waist as he pressed his lips to your cheek in greeting and you did the same, he joined you in the elevator and said, “I like to get to my appointments early.”
“You’re lucky my shoot ended early or else you might have had to wait outside like a dog,” you teased as you pushed the button for the top floor where your penthouse was located. As part of the infinite amount of wealth your family has, you also dabble in real estate, mostly in the country as luxury apartments but you do have some homes overseas: Paris, New York, Argentina, etc.
The place you call home is a top floor penthouse with terrace and rooftop. The floor in which it was located was completely shut off for just you and included a private gym, yoga studio, three walk-in closets, and on top of that an elevator parking garage with a Mary Kay Pink Rolls Royce sitting pretty inside it.
Jungkook has never stepped foot in your home before and it was overwhelmingly stunning with four bedrooms, two living rooms (one on the top floor and one on the main floor too), an open kitchen, poolside terrace, and five bathrooms. You lived in ultimate modern luxury with traditional themes throughout the home like its hand carved wooden furniture and expensive marble walls.
“Is this different from your little magic treehouse in the woods you ran off to?” You asked, tempted to push his buttons as you removed your coat and handed it to your housekeeper who waited at the door.
“Well, considering my magic treehouse is worth 2.6 million dollars, no I wouldn’t consider this that different from it,” Jungkook couldn’t help but boast, feeling like he’s competing. It’s like when he was in school and the students would brag about whatever exotic trip they got to go in the summer and he would have to make sure to tell them what he did was better. “Maybe I’ll bring you with someday.”
Fuck. Why did he say that? Why is he indulging in any of this in the first place? You and Jungkook should never be together, right?
“Speaking of which, I thought you would have ran off now that the wedding is over,” You said as you mumbled something to the housekeeper making her leave, “Drink?”
“Water is fine,” Jungkook said as he made his way down to your 70’s inspired talking pit of suede Anabei sectional couches, “And I thought I would have been gone by now too”
“What changed?” You skied curiously, “Don’t tell me it's because you would miss me.”
You held your hand to your chest as if to seem touched by the thought and Jungkook just rolled his eyes as you continued, “How would all the other girls feel knowing I’m keeping you here?”
Jungkook scoffed as he practically pushed your legs off his lap, “Can you not joke for just one second?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, even if part of you felt confused wondering if this was supposed to be a serious moment or not. Jungkook huffed, running his fingers through his black hair, “I’m here because I wanted to talk to you about all those articles. My parents are working on taking those down, are you okay?”
Your eyebrows knitted together with confusion, “Me? Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because I’ve never seen anything bad written about you and suddenly you’re being painted as a two-timer by spending a night with me while also… doing whatever it is you do with that friend of yours.” He was not jealous. He swears.
To be clear, there really is nothing going on with you and Jimin. You’re just two friends in the modeling world who happen to like attending secret parties together and maybe making out drunkenly every now and then. That’s it. You’ve never slept with him and Jimin has too many girls on his line for you to ever consider him.
“I’ll survive,” You mumbled as you looked over at him, seeing him in deep thought.
“I’m thinking of staying a while longer,” Jungkook said suddenly with a clear of his throat.
Jungkook was not the shy type and to be honest he’s not even sure why he’s letting you know [as if it made a difference] but the words just slipped out.
He did not like you.
Well, he didn’t like you like that. It sounds harsh he’s well aware of that but he was never romantically attracted to you before so how is he going to suddenly feel that way after only a week in contact again. Maybe it was just unresolved sexual tension after years of feeling that way but that can’t be the only thing that’s making him want to revert back to what his life was like before he left to live on his own.
He escaped all this so that he could live somewhere quietly and do what he really wanted to do without worrying about anything else. Now he’s contemplating moving back and possibly involving himself with his father’s business again. Too much is going on for him to understand why.
“For how long?” you asked as your fingers began to softly run through the ends of his hair making him look at you. You couldn’t hide your curiosity and how close the two of you are.
When he had pulled you down to sit with him, it was with your legs thrown over his lap which he had been caressing every now and then.
An arrogant smirk formed on his lips as he licked them, tapping your calf lightly, “How long do you want me here?”
Fuck, Jungkook is staying to get back in business… not for you.
It’s not for you.
It’s not for yo—
His breath hitched as a sudden weight shifted to his lap, his hands immediately went to your waist, helping you get comfortable on him. It’s embarrassing the way Jungkook didn’t hesitate to reach for you when you sat on his lap feeling your arms thrown around his neck, “Here as in…”
You looked down at the short skirt you wore which rolled up a little from how your legs straddled his thighs and said, “Under me?”
A scoff in disbelief left his lips as he couldn’t help but laugh, sliding your hips closer, “Yeah.”
It was attractive the way your conversations never seemed to fall unless you wanted them to. It was a constant cat and mouse game, banter back and forth and he catches on quickly.
You couldn’t help it, okay. Anytime you would see pictures of Jungkook since he left, he was always in a hoodie and sweats or something that just hid his entire body. Right now he’s wearing this Christian Dior white button-up shirt [which he rolled the sleeves up at some point since he got here] and it was messily untucking from his black slacks and he looks so hot right now. His hair was messy in a sexy way and he looked just like he used to, except this time with tattoos and a different sense of maturity.
Without wasting another moment debating if you should or shouldn’t, you leaned down and kissed him. Jungkook’s lips parted against yours, stretching his neck to kiss you with more need. Unlike the first night you kissed, this one wasn’t as rushed and angry. He took his time longer, pulling your bottom lip between his and doing it over again.
You pressed your chest against his, with your tongue swiping against his lip teasingly until you met his. Jungkook’s hands pinched the satin fabric of your skirt, feeling it tighten and rise, unable to stop the growing desire he was feeling for you. His briefs were getting tighter every time you shifted on his lap and whatever he had been thinking before you started making out.
“You want to play?” He asked, shifting his head to deepen the kiss without bumping noses. You pulled away feeling desperate to catch your breath as his kisses began to travel down toward your exposed neck, licking and nipping under your jaw while beginning to make
“Maybe,” you sighed in pleasure, running your hands through his hair when you felt him kiss down your collarbone, closer and closer down the deep-v in your Miu Miu chiffon top. The strap to your shirt slipped down your shoulder as Jungkook’s rough fingers traced down the side of your arms.
You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to go back to kiss your lips as you felt his growing erection press into you. It was hard for him to ignore the fact that the only thing covering what was under your skirt was a flimsy, thin piece of lace he shifted you closer until his bulge was tucked between your legs, placing your hips right over where he wanted them to be. Now that he moved you, his outline was more evident and had you grinding along him.
Jungkook released a groan with a sharp breath once he felt that sudden move and he couldn’t help but buck his hips against you, feeling the fabric of his briefs constrict his hardened cock. It was a frustrating feeling yet he felt so eager with his tongue down your throat and his covered dick tucked nicely between your covered folds that he couldn’t even think to stop and remove the layers.
His lips were feeling swollen against yours yet he didn’t want to pull away, the friction he was getting from the way you humped him was turning him on with how needy it felt. You kissed along his jaw, grinding against his aching dick while your nimble fingers began to unbutton his shirt.
“God damn,” Jungkook groaned as he threw his head back, relishing in the way your hips moved expertly against him while kissing down his naked chest. He slid his ass down your back, stopping over your butt and pulling your skirt out of the way for him to get a better feel of you underneath. With firm hands, he turned your sensual grinding into harsher and more deep movements that he met with his hips.
He’s not sure he could take just this any longer. Anytime he’s with you now it’s like he can’t do anything but fall for you and despite how annoying it is, he doesn’t do anything to stop it. Instead, he welcomes it and right now all he wants to do and rip off the remaining layers between you so he could have your legs wrapped around him once more. It’s only been days since the first time and he has not been able to stop thinking about it.
The day of the wedding he had been so distracted by you that he barely remembers any of it and now his best friends are on their honeymoon and he’s here thinking about you again.
Giving up on arguing how much he wants to have you, he wanted to get your clothes off and you were letting him. His hands had barely made it to the end of your top, ready to pull it off, when a loud ringtone cut through the living room, echoing off the walls and hard to ignore. The two of you looked at each other confused.
He sat up, reaching his hand into his pocket and pulling out his phone, annoyed that someone had thought to call him.
“Answer,” you said breathlessly as you looked at the caller, already sliding yourself off his lap.
“It’s just Hobi,” Jungkook said, letting out a huff in annoyance as he set his phone back down, turning to kiss you but it rang once again. Your eyes met his and he begrudgingly grabbed his phone and swiped to answer, “Hello?”
“Hey man, I just got off the phone with your Yoongi,” Hoseok said as he sat in a large closet filled with designer clothes, “And why am I always the last to know if you’re leaving or not?”
“What?” Jungkook looked visibly annoyed with his scrunched brows and tense jaw and for some reason that made him hotter to you. His shirt was undone completely and his belt was halfway pulled off and with his legs spread, it was very hard to ignore his hard on.
Your eyes softened with curiosity and you couldn’t help but bite down on your bottom lip as you decided to just go for it. First, your hand rested on his thigh as he listened to whatever Hoseok said, but slowly you made your way toward his bulge.
“You’re gonna start working with your dad again?” Hoseok asked, unaware of the way Jungkook’s attention had drifted down to the palm of your hand, right over his dick. Your fingers pressed against the underside of his member, massaging your palm into it and feeling the way his hips raised. “What happened to not caring about the money and the company and all that blah blah blah?”
Jungkook couldn’t help but roll his eyes, snapping back to his friend instead of what was going on. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, tightening their grip as if in warning. It was a useless attempt considering he tried helping you pull his belt off and saying, “Come on man, it was never like that.”
He could hear his own tone falter somewhere between lying and having his cock free from the confines of his tight briefs with your hand feeling him.
Hoseok laughed, debating what suit he should wear, “No, it’s exactly like that.”
Jungkook’s hand went to your head, softly caressing you as you kissed down his navel, your hand wet with spit, jerking him off while licking just above his dick. He didn’t bother with a response to his friend as he continued speaking anyway, “Is it true you and our princess are messing around? It’s all over the tabloids.”
Sarcasm was evident in Hoseok’s tone but Jungkook was too focused on your tongue licking up the length of his hard cock, wetting it with spit that made your hand movements smoother.
“Look I get it, you’ve had all this tension something was bound to happen but damn, why didn’t you tell me that either?” Hoseok asked with evident shock, unaware of the blowjob his friend was receiving on the other end. Your lips were wrapped tightly around his length and with your hand too, it was hard for Jungkook to keep his reactions to a minimum.
“Hobi, I—I, yknow I just,” Jungkook cleared his throat uncomfortably to hide an evident groan. He was beginning to fidget under your ministrations, especially when you squeezed under his cock, massaging his balls, “Sorry.”
“Sorry?! That’s all you gotta say after chewing me out for giving you condoms as a joke.” Hoseok was lying in a pile of Louis Vuitton suits on the floor, engrossed in his one-sided conversation, “Our friendship seems one-sided buddy. I thought when you came up to me… I thought, ‘Hey, maybe my good buddy Jungkook will get in this dandy hot tub with me’ but no, you know what you do instead? You ask where Y/n is! God I should’ve known—“
Jungkook threw his head back in a mixture of pleasure and obvious irritation that he couldn’t take it anymore. His finger pressed into the red button and the call was cut to end suddenly. As soon as his phone hit the couch, you pulled off his length with a deep huff for air, “That wasn’t very nice of you.”
“He’ll get over it,” Jungkook mumbled as he reached for your hand to pull you toward him, “Come here.”
“I’m not done,” you leaned away from the kiss he was trying to give you but his hand held your head in place, not caring to kiss the lips that had just been around his hard dick. Jungkook wasn’t as gentle as his need grew heavier and with a strategic pull at your top, it ripped down the back, “Jungkook!”
“What?” He asked with a giddy smile, tempted to be playful, “It was in my way.”
You rolled your eyes, sitting up to take your skirt off yourself and prevent another hazard while Jungkook finished undressing himself. “It was custom, asshole.”
Jungkook’s smile dropped with worry, lips parted in surprise until you burst out into a laugh and fell onto his lap, “You should see the look on your face.”
“Ha ha, don’t scare me like that,” Jungkook chuckled, “I was already thinking about the fortune I would have to pay to fix that.”
“Jungkook,” you ignored the fact that the two of you were naked, in the middle of an intimate moment and asked, “What did you mean earlier?”
“When?” Jungkook asked, caressing your leg, “About staying? Yeah, I’m serious.”
“You are?” You crossed your arms over your bare chest, “Why?”
“Why?” He was visibly taken back, “What do you mean why?”
“I mean… just a few days ago you were adamant on leaving right after the wedding and when you left the resort before everyone else we all kind of figured you had left but you’re here now and…” You took a deep breath in thought.
“Do you want me to leave?” Jungkook asked, sounding more hurt than he intended to. All this time pushing and pulling his feelings for how he felt about being here and seeing you was getting to him. He’s very aware how confusing he is and spending a night with you shouldn’t have changed his mind this quickly while he also refused to admit.
“We didn’t talk about what happened at the party,” you said suddenly, feeling Jungkook drape his shirt over your naked figure as the conversation shifted drastically.
“I know,” he dropped his head, “I’m sorry, I was really confused and I couldn’t tell what I was feeling or how you were feeling and I was mad and… I thought you probably didn’t care.”
“I mean, I didn’t,” you shrugged, “But because I figured it was just a one time thing since you were very obvious with how little you thought of me and now you’re saying you’re staying longer while visiting me at home and it just… I don’t get it.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Jungkook was in his slacks again, trying to fix whatever mess he might have made over time, “I just… I was just being dumb. I wanted to act like I wasn’t into you at all because I was mad at everyone else and it wasn’t fair that I took it out on you but I thought you didn’t like me either.”
“And you’re right, you were mean to me,” you nudged him with your foot, “So really, I shouldn’t even be in this position with you right now.”
Jungkook didn’t dare argue when you called him out, “You always pretended to hate me even when you’d get jealous if someone else talked to me and you could never take your eyes off me.”
His brows furrowed, reminded of the trip and how everyone always joked that he wanted you when he was so stubborn on saying he didn’t. He didn’t like how predictable his life was.
“Because I knew everyone thought you were perfect,” Jungkook tried pulling you toward him, “And they didn’t know how you liked to push my buttons and say things you knew would get to my head and how you were actually so unbelievably perfect that it pissed me off everytime I let you get to me.”
“Don’t sweet talk me now,” you teased when he leaned over to lay between your legs, content with the sight of you in his Dior shirt, “How are you gonna repay me for being such a dick?”
“Whatever you want,” Jungkook admitted, “Say the word and I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“I have everything I want,” you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Come on Y/n, don’t make this hard on me,” he whined playfully, “Everyone else is already making it hard and I just want to spend the night with you. I’ll let you use me.”
Your brow raised and with a soft laugh you pulled him toward you for a kiss, “I get to use the Jeon Jungkook? What will everyone say?”
“That they saw it coming,” Jungkook chuckled as he pressed his lips to yours, “So don’t stop the inevitable.”
You rolled your eyes, feeling your arousal from earlier slowly make its return, “You’re so spoiled.”
“I know.”
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Jeon Jungkook now knows what an awful liar he’s been these last couple of years. All of this talk about wanting to be different, break free from his family’s influences and the world of money and power, was meaningless in the end. He tried, he really did but his rebellion of running off and doing whatever he pleased, refusing to acknowledge the company, the wealth and the people in it was short lived because he never actually wanted to escape it.
He was still going to be friends with the people he grew up with and fall back to his old routine of country clubs and parading on yachts or private islands.
He was still going to take over his share of his father’s company and dress himself up in designer Kiton suits that he used to despise wearing.
He was still going to fall for you, the person he despised simply for being an exact reflection of himself. You were perfect for him in every way on paper and that made him want to push you away but in the end, he still fell for you like he knew he would.
Some people dream about having the life he does, or growing up the way he did and yet here he was selfishly wishing it all away. It was perfect, it was so insanely perfect and unfair that Jungkook ever thought he wouldn’t be happy with what he had been handed down to him for simply being born.
“This person gathered valuable experiences in the world and has shown such a strong will to portray it all into commitment for the company and that makes me a proud father,” A deep voice spoke from behind a podium with an echoing mic that had the attention of over a hundred people, “Please, welcome the newest V.P. for Jeon Corporation, my youngest son, Jeon Jungkook.”
Jungkook had an arrogant smile on his lips as he walked onto stage, thanking everyone for congratulating him on his quick and easy advance in the company—even surpassing his older brother.
“Honestly, it is a big thank you to everyone close to me, for helping me see how ready I am to step into this role and fulfill my duty as a member of this corporation,” Jungkook said confidently, looking at all his friends who had a mixture of confused yet knowing smiles on their faces.
“What a brat,” Hoseok joked with Namjoon, “And I blame you for this.”
“Yeah, I’ve never seen someone get pulled back into the country’s good graces so easily,” Namjoon laughed, remembering all the articles about how my ridiculous Jungkook was for publicly stating he would never be a part of the company.
“That’s because he’s spoiled,” Jungkook’s older brother chimed in, “Even after he says he’s gonna walk away from it, he’s still gonna be welcomed back with open arms.”
Taehyung released a playful sigh, “I want to be Jeon Jungkook when I grow up, the perfect life just handed to me and I’m just too blind to appreciate it.”
“Tae, you’re rich,” Yeonwoo whispered to him, Taehyung grinning at her reminder and sitting up straighter.
“How was it?” Jungkook asked his friends as he looked around the table.
“Well rehearsed,” Taehyung gave him the thumbs up, “Also, where’s Y/n? I thought she’d be here.”
Jungkook checked the time on his watch, his leg already bouncing underneath the table, “Yeah, I thought so too.”
It shouldn’t be that big of a deal to him. This was all just some flashy way for his father to make Jungkook’s debut in the business widely anticipated and you had other things to do than be here. The two of you aren’t even officially together yet so it’s not like you owe it to him or anything.
“Y/n,” Jimin whined as he watched the valet open the limo door for you, “Please don’t ditch me. I’m your best friend, imagine how much fun we could be having. Everyone’s going to ask where you ran off to after the dinner.”
“Well you can tell them,” you hurried to finish applying your lip gloss, “That I had more important things to do than get drunk at some fashion party.”
“Right, just throw me to the side like I mean nothing,” Jimin said dramatically, “Is this how you treat friends now?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing he was only trying to cause a scene. Jimin knew you would be calling it an early night but he just wanted it to be difficult. With a small sigh, you double checked that you looked fine in the mirror and said, “Okay, wish me luck, I’m hoping I get laid tonight.”
“I also hope you get laid tonight so that I don’t have to listen to you talk about how much you want to see him,” Jimin said as you made your way out the car, “Goodnight.”
By the time you got to the banquet, the cameras had been long gone from the entrance and so you were able to make your appearance quietly. You would have been here earlier if there hadn’t been an ambassador dinner tonight that you had already agreed to do before Jungkook decided on staying and you just couldn’t miss it.
You felt bad because Jungkook had asked you to come be his date but he understood why you couldn’t make it right away. If anything he should be happy that you hurried over from dinner to the banquet without an outfit change. Despite the number of attendants, it was really a private affair with only a couple people from the press but nothing too grand and over the top. It made arriving late less miserable and finding Jungkook and your friends much easier.
And when you first involved yourself with Jungkook in this way, you should have known it wouldn’t all be easy. You were now somewhat seeing the most eligible bachelor in the country and nobody knows about it aside from speculation. Speculation won’t stop spoiled rich girls who want him to themselves and that’s what you saw when you found him.
“It’s so great to have you back Kooky, it’s like… the best thing to ever happen,” some girl gushed at him from the once empty seat to his left. She seemed unaffected by the stares she received from around the table and didn’t care at all that Jungkook wasn’t even glancing her way. He doesn’t know her, she’s probably just the daughter of some wealthy couple who thinks she has a chance with him.
Jungkook stared forward, watching his friends’ faces as their eyes softened, no longer listening to the girl who said, “Maybe we can get together some time.”
A gentle hand touched his shoulder, soft lips brushing against his ear as you said, “Maybe we can get together some time too.”
There was no denying the smile that grew on his face as he turned to look at you and how close you were to him. Jungkook’s lips parted in pleasant surprise, ready to talk to you when someone else spoke up.
“Excuse us, sweetheart,” Namjoon said to the girl, “It seems our table is full, maybe you can try somewhere else?”
She left with an annoyed scoff, making room for you to sit down, “Sorry I’m late, did any of you miss me?”
You had a sweet smile on your face, a camera clicked somewhere else in the distance surely capturing how close you were to Jungkook specifically, who was tracing his hand along your thigh.
“Dearly,” Jungkook said as he leaned into you for a quick kiss on the lips, “Thanks for coming.”
“I told you I’d try and make it,” you said to him, “I missed the speech didn’t I?”
“It was nothing special,” Jungkook’s hand began to slide down the space between your legs—or at least as far as your dress would let it, “Just the usual talk about how amazing I am, it was all very boring.”
“But I love talking about you,” Your tone was sarcastic yet flirty, your hand falling over his in warning when he began to pull up your dress just a little. You were sitting at a table with a large draped tablecloth that hid your legs underneath but you were still very aware of the fact that your friends were all around the table.
“Y/n,” Hoseok called for you from across the table, “How does it feel to have the Jeon Jungkook wrapped around your finger?”
Jungkook turned to his friend with a harsh glare, knowing he was just poking fun at it all but still managing to get under his skin. You looked at Jungkook with a knowing grin, “Like nothing I didn’t expect.”
He scoffed, squeezing your thigh possessively, “I think the feelings are mutual, darling.”
You leaned into him, not caring for being around so many important people with cameras trying to capture whatever moment they can, “They are.”
::.
a/n omg it took me literally forever to write this and idk how I feel about it but yknow what 😭it’s finished and that’s what matters. I was in the mood for some rich kdrama feel fic and I hope I managed to pull that off at least a litttlleeeeeeere
thanks for everyone that waited patiently and please feel free to lmk what you think <3
permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @unnatae @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions of it]
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pretty-little-mind33 · 5 months
Text
Wildest Dreams
James Potter x fem!reader
Summary: Finding out that your ex-best friend might have smelt you in the Amortentia feels as surreal as you smelling him.
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: harassment, non-consensual touching (non-sexual), insecurities
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When you hear the door to the classroom swing open, slam into the wall, and as if on cue a chorus of laughs resound around the room, you know it's James and his imbecile friends.
Your lips thin into a tight-lipped smile as you send Marlene an exhausted look.
"Gentlemen," Slughorn drones on as he turns to look at the boys, who comedically trip over themselves to find their spots in the crowd of students, "You're late." 
"Evidently, Professor." Sirius Black quips and nudges his shoulder into James. The latter smirks.
James has somehow found his way next to you. He hasn't done it on purpose but when he turns his head and sees you beside him, his smirk turns into a wide smile.
A smile that never fails to make your knees shake and your heart feel like it could explode.
"Y/n," James whispers. 
"Hi Potter," you roll your eyes, hiding a smile behind faux frustration.
You and James aren't friends. Well, unless you counted the years from ages four to eleven, when you had been inseparable. You'd grown apart these last years and while you'd cried over your lost friendship in first year, you had decided it was for the best to distance yourself from him anyway. 
Having a crush on your best friend is incredibly cliché.
Still, although you weren't friends in the same way as you had been, James has always been kind to you.
He says hello to you when he sees you in the hallway. You have had pleasant conversations in passing, and when his family occasionally has yours over – for old times sake – you both sit on the balcony outside his window and talk as if nothing has changed. 
You shift away from James a little, feeling too close to him, and cross your arms. You turn your attention to Slughorn as he clears his throat and lifts the lid from the pot, "Very well then,"
His sentence is drowned out by the soft, delicate smell that fills the room. You pin-point the scent of broom-polish immediately. Rosemary, vanilla, bergamot and cedar. Your expression falls. Bergamot and cedar. Your head spins and you wonder if James put on too much cologne this morning or if — 
Your mind suddenly goes completely blank when you feel James's breath against your ear, uttering exactly what you had been wondering, but this time about you, "Hey, did you put on more perfume than usual? I can smell it from here," his voice is teasing and you feel just a little fainter than you already had been. 
"Amortentia," Slughorn interrupts, "The most powerful love potion to exist. It smells differently to everyone, depending on what attracts them — or sometimes who attracts them," He continues on, explaining the dangers of the potion, but you aren't listening anymore. 
You look up. James has gone quiet and he's staring at the bubbling liquid, a vacant look in his eyes. Your heart clenches and you turn your head, inclining it down. You must have heard him wrong. James must have been confused.
A pit forms in your stomach when James moves away from you, leaving your side feeling empty. You hear him laugh with Remus and your hand squeezes around your arms. 
You hadn't worn any perfume this morning.
"Hey, Y/n/n," You're pulled from your thoughts when William, another Gryffindor, comes up from behind you and shoves into your shoulder so he's standing next to you.
"I knew I'd smell someone as hot as you in there," He teases, leaning in close. "Just like fucking vanilla," Williams brings his hand into your hair, twirling some strands in his fingers as he presses his nose close to your temple and inhales. 
"Hey," You move your head away, feeling disgusted. William just barks out a laugh and his arm extends to grab yours. Suddenly, you're almost pushed to the side when James stands in front of you and shoves William away. The boy bumps into the cauldron and the Amortentia spills all over the floor. 
"All three of you," Slughorn suddenly booms, his cheeks flushed crimson, "McGonagall. Now."
So you find yourself standing in the middle of James and William in McGonagall's office. The older woman is sitting at her desk, her arms crossed as she stares at you all from behind her small glasses. She looks at William first considering his shirt is drenched in the thick liquid from the Amortentia, "What happened?"
"Potter shoved me," Williams states quickly, glaring at James.
"And I'd do it again," James snarls, crossing his arms. 
McGonagall looks utterly exhausted at their bickering and turns her attention to you. "What about you, Miss Y/l/n, care to explain what happened?"
William sends you a dark look, but when you look at James his expression is soft. "William made me uncomfortable in class and when James saw, he accidentally shoved him into the Amortentia and it spilled all over."
"It wasn't an accident! He did it on purpose!" William argues like a child and James sends him a knowing smirk.
"Oh yeah, the shove was intentional," he grins wolfishly, "Although, I didn't mean to knock the potion over, Minnie," James looks over at McGonagall and this time he looks a little sheepish. McGonagall just stares at him as if he has gone insane and then she looks at you.
"You can leave, Miss Y/l/n," she says and looks back at the boys and hums, "You two may not."
You glance at James a little nervously but he sends you a reassuring smile. So, you ignore William's loud complaining and thank McGonagall as you walk out of her classroom.
* * *
A few hours later, when you're walking out of the Great Hall after dinner, you and your friends run into James again. He's also with his friends, leaning against the wall, and they're laughing obnoxiously loud.
However, when James sees you his smile widens. "Ladies," he says, crossing his arms cheekily.
"Gentlemen," your lips curl into a smirk as you nod at Sirius, Remus, and Peter. James tilts his head at his friends, his expression quirking almost as if he's annoyed that you mentioned them and not him. 
"You feeling okay?" James asks. 
You stare at him, trying to understand exactly what he means.
Does he really care or is he only asking because he's in trouble because of you. Is it mocking?
You start to overthink and James can sense it. So, he moves a little closer to you and you can smell his cologne. It sends heat creeping up your neck.
He asks again. "After what happened with William," he whispers, "when he made you uncomfortable. Are you okay?" James looks genuine and you see his hand hesitating to touch your arm.
You look up at him, staring into his eyes, "O-Oh, yeah. I'm fine. I was just - I didn't think anyone would have smelt me in that potion," you laugh, rambling because that's what you do when you're nervous. You can see James's expression shift into a small smile.
"You'd be surprised," he says, rubbing his nape, "Hey, can we talk in private? I wanted to ask you something?"
Once you say yes, you find yourself in a small, empty, classroom with James. You lean against a desk, hand gripping the edge as you stare at him. "What's up?" you ask. James has never asked you to talk like this.
"My mum is having one of her family dinners for Christmas," James starts, "I wanted to invite you, personally," he adds, as if he's been rehearsing. 
Usually, his mother will invite yours and then by proxy you'll show up. But, this is different. "You want me to come?" your eyebrow raises in confusion, "Personally?"
"Yeah," he sounds unsure, "I mean we're friends, right?"
Is that what we are, you want to ask him but you don't. "I didn't think we were friends anymore," You say honestly and James's expression falls.
He fiddles with his hands nervously but walks closer until he's directly in front of you. You lean away from him and into the desk, chin tilted up to look at him. 
"I'm an idiot," he whispers, looking at you intensely, "I shouldn't have let you slip out of my hands like that. I, well, miss you, a lot."
You listen to him with harsh breaths, trying to understand where this all comes from and why now.
James's hand reaches out and hovers over your cheeks until he holds you and brings you closer to his face. Your eyes round. You're so sure he'll kiss you with how close you are and by the way he's looking at you. You don't have time to make up your mind if you'd want to kiss him or not, because instead, he guides your cheek to his chest and his arms wrap around you. 
He crushes you into a hug. 
Your breath escapes you in a sigh, "James?"
"Y/n," he says your name smoothly and soothes a hand down your hair, "You smell like vanilla and cinnamon. With just a hint of freshly-mowed grass, probably because whenever I see you after a Quidditch match you always have some grass in your hair, right here," James says in a whisper and his finger traces behind your ear.
"Usually from a small tumble," he adds, "You're so clumsy sometimes."  
You pull away only to have him hold you closer. 
"I can't keep pretending I don't think about you," he admits and that sends all emotions crashing over you. You stare at him, lips parted and eyebrows creased, as you try and understand the meaning behind the words. "I smelt you in the Amortentia," James admits.
"You smelt me? You're joking."
James suddenly frowns and he watches as you practically try and sink into the desk behind you. He can take a hint and he moves away. "What? No?" 
You feel your cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. "You aren't joking?"
James's face softens and he smiles. "Of course I'm not – I smelt you and also your perfume which," his smile turns into a smirk, "I can tell you aren't wearing right now." James chuckles happily, his eyes crinkling in the corners and your heart flutters. "Merlin I gave myself away in that classroom, didn't I, love?" 
Your insides become mush at the nickname and you find yourself nodding. 
James looks at you fondly even when he says, "I understand if you don't feel the same. If I'm not the boy you like or a boy you want. I have been a foolish ass for the majority of our time here at school. I've ignored you and worse than that, I let myself forget how lucky I was to have you as my friend and I'm so sorry."
As you hear his words, you can feel tears brim in your eyes. James's fond smile disappears and he starts to panic. "Hey, hey, hey!" his hands cup around your cheeks without even thinking. "I don't want to make you cry, love. Y-you're okay," he promises frantically. 
James is so close. His cologne has invaded your senses until you can't think clearly. All you can do is lean in closer until your nose brushes his. James is surprised but when he looks into your eyes, his body relaxes as he understands what you want. You like to think it's all the years you were friends that makes it so easy for James to understand.
"You want me to kiss you?" he whispers, his voice husky and low.
You feel warm all over as his arm slides behind you and he holds your lower back, waiting for a yes so he can pull you closer. You nod, smiling. You wonder if I have to tell him he's the one you smelled in the potion or if he'll understand by the way you kiss him. 
James's lips press onto yours. He's testing the waters, making sure he's not moving too quickly or too slowly. You let your hand find his hair as you pull him closer. James's hand wraps around you and in the passion, he hoists you up onto the desk behind you and you pull him in.
You kiss him like you've never kissed anyone and it takes your hand on his chest to snap James back into reality. He gently disconnects your lips and leans his forehead on yours.
His eyes are still closed when he says, "Shh, we have all the time in the world. I don't plan on letting you slip away from me again, Y/n," he says it like a promise. Like a prayer. 
Finally, you speak, "James. I missed you," you admit in a whisper. 
James holds you closer. "I missed you more. You don't know how much you mean to me." 
You laugh, feeling how close he is and how badly he doesn't want to drop your hand. "I think I can guess," you say teasingly.
James shakes his head. "My love goes beyond any words I could possibly muster." 
You stare at him with a raised eyebrow. "Since when is James Potter such a hopeless romantic?" 
James grins, his hand sliding down to your thigh as he draws soothing circles on your skin, "He's always been a romantic, darling. He just hasn't had the chance to show you," he whispers and quickly kisses the tip of your nose. 
"Well, he can start now," you smile.
James nuzzles his nose into your shoulder. "So, does this mean that we're friends again?"
You pull away and send him a playful look. "Can this mean we're more than friends now?"
James looks into your eyes and deep in his brown ones, you can see his sincerity, "We'll be whatever you want, love," he says. He hugs you close and your face is buried in his neck. You sniff, your smile widening.
You whisper into his neck, "Bergamot and cedar."
James chuckles, still holding you, "What was that, love?"
"Nothing," you smile, simply content with holding him. 
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yeonzzzn · 2 months
Text
say my name: sunghoon
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pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 6.9k
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synopsis: you never liked sunghoon. matter of fact, you hate him. he annoys you and makes your blood boil. what makes it worse is he’s your neighbor, attends the same college as you, and even worked his way into your friend group. you refuse to say his name, but he has plans to make you scream it.
genre: neighbors!au, enemies to lovers, smut.
warnings: swearing, reader has an attitude problem, mutual masturbation, using readers spit to jerk off, fingering, cum eating, unprotective sex, doggie, hair pulling, lmk if I missed anything!
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You gripped the bedsheets, knuckles turning white and mouth going slack as moans escaped your lips. One of his hands left your hips and moved to your head, pushing your long hair from your face before connecting it to the side of your face, pressing you further into the sheets, another moan leaving your mouth. 
He chuckled, “Yeah? You like that huh?” his hand at your hip squeezed and shoved you further onto him, using more force into his other hand to press your face harder into the sheets, “Such a dirty fucking girl.” 
You exhaled out, “I fucking hate you,” but had the biggest smirk on your lips as he used every force possible to fuck into you. 
Sunghoon smirked at the look on your face, “No you don’t,” he cooed, his hand on your face moving to the top of your head, grasping a fistful of your hair and yanking, pulling you up and connecting your back to his chest, “Say my name,” he growled into your ear, letting go of your hair and snaking his hand down to your heat, middle finger circling your clit in perfect rhythm with his thrusts, “Say. My. Name.” 
Your head spun as you thought back on how you ended up in this situation with his cock so deep inside you. 
You hated him the moment he moved in next door. You hoped whoever your neighbor would be that they would be better than the last one. The last neighbor you shared a wall with was loud, always yelling at something, banging on the walls, watching TV way too loud, and for whatever reason would leave their apartment door open to “get fresh air,” when in reality you thought it was to shove whatever terrible smell they had inside out. 
You were so thankful when you saw your new neighbor was your age. He was handsome, looked smart, was quiet, seemed clean and his best friends were hot. 
But you learned soon enough that he was a prick and your hate for him started. 
Your first interaction with him was asking if he could turn his music down because it was three in the morning and you had work that following morning. 
He opened the door wide, wearing nothing but his tight blue boxers that clearly showed his boner. His hair was a mess, and the giggles of two females could be heard from his bedroom. You tried to drown out their giggles and keep your eyes on his, terribly failing and staring down at his chest, abs…his cock. 
He smirked, leaning closer to you, “Like what you see? Want to join us?” Anger filled you instantly. Who the fuck did this prick this he was? He barely moved in a few days ago, has TWO other females in his apartment, and is hitting on you when he doesn’t know you?
You snarled, “Just turn the damn music down!” 
He, in fact, did not turn the music down but turned it up. 
The rest of that week was hell. Music, alcohol, other females, and his friends flew in and out of that apartment, making you sleep less and less every day. 
When classes started back up that following week, to your dismay, you walked into your microbiology class to see him sitting in the corner of the classroom. His hands shoved into his black hoodie, eyes locking onto yours. He smirked, leaning forward into his chair, resting his elbows on the table, and giving you a wink. 
If you could drop this class and take it another semester you would. But you were so close to being done with your prerequisites for your major that there was no point in dropping it. Plus you wouldn’t let your prick of a neighbor ruin this for you. 
Except he made class hell too. Tossing notes your way, giving you winks, and biting his lips. Always having a comeback to your answer when the professor would ask questions.
You discovered through the class that his name was Park Sunghoon, and the moment you knew his name was the moment you vowed to never say it. To not let that tainted name leave your lips. 
Sunghoon only did more to piss you off as time went on. Walking around outside the apartment practically naked, running his hands over his body, and winking at you. Always teasing you at college by how you “wanted” him. 
What made things worse, he somehow befriended your best friend. Yunjin invited you to a party one night and you gladly accepted it, wanting one night away from the apartment building and away from Sunghoon. 
You walked into the party, expecting to be embraced by your best friend, but instead saw the door being opened by Jake, one of Sunghoon’s hot best friends. 
“Oh shit! Hey YN!” his Aussie accent blurted out, “You’re friends with Yunjin too?” 
Too?
You peered into her house, seeing Sunghoon’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, red solo cups in their hands as they laughed together with not only your friends but also his. 
Yunjin’s eyes widen in excitement at seeing Jake lead you into her house, “YNNIE!!!” 
She released herself from Sunghoon and embraced you quickly, “I have some people I want you to meet!” 
She introduced you to Sunghoon and his friends, the awkward smile on Sunghoon’s face showed that he had zero clue you were best friends with Yunjin. 
“No shit!” Jay exclaimed, “You’re best friends with YN?! Sunghoon is her neighbor!” 
Yunjin, mostly in her drunken state, was more excited than she should be, “OH EM GEEE!!” she clapped her hands, “We can be one big happy friend group!”
You found out from Yunjin that she and Sunghoon have a few classes together and even already hung out a few times around campus with his friends when you were busy. 
You wanted to break up the friendship but felt way too guilty and didn’t want to be that person to break away a friendship. 
So you sucked it up. 
For months you tried to act normal, but Sunghoon’s flirting and his teasing only got worse. Making you hate him even more. Oh, but it fueled him to continue. 
Even after almost a year, you refused to call him by name, referring to him as stupid, idiot, idiot penguin(after finding out he was a figure skater), and simply just a prick. 
You twirl your pencil between your fingers, listening to Heeseung and Yunjin talk about the League of Legends match they had last night. Jake cutting into the conversation. 
“Yeah yeah nerds, I have something to say.” 
Sunghoon glanced up at his best friend from his homework, “What could be more important than their league match?” 
“What the idiot penguin said,” you chimed in, eyes going back down to your homework. 
“Are we still going with the idiot penguin?” Sunghoon scoffed, “It’s been a year, YN,” he rolled his eyes, “I have a name.”
You shrugged, standing by your statement of never saying his name. 
Your friend group soon figured out whatever enemies thing you two had going on but never addressed it, hoping you two would figure it out on your own. 
“Anyways,” Jay said, “What is important?” 
Jake smiled, “Let’s go to the next city over and party.” 
Chaewon’s eyes lit up, “You know, why not?” 
Yunjin even seemed interested. 
Your little small town had bars and one shitty club. Neither was worth walking into. Going the next city over for a night out didn’t seem like a bad idea until…
“We can get a hotel!” Yunjin said, “That way we don’t have to rush back home and can actually get drunk.” 
You were on board until the hotel was brought up, “No. Absolutely not.” 
Sunghoon narrowed his eyes at you, knowing perfectly well why you didn’t want to, “Get over it, you’re going. All of us are.” 
You protested the whole week against going, yet you found yourself in the very backseat of Chaewon’s car sitting right next to Sunghoon. 
You rolled your head back onto the headrest, crossing your arms with a groan, “Can someone PLEASE switch seats with me?” 
“NO!” everyone else shouted. Sunghoon just sitting in silence, his arms also crossed, eyes locked onto whatever could be so interesting outside the car. 
You’ve only been in the car for an hour and a half, yet it was killing you already. 
“You really need to get over whatever hate you have for him,” Yunjin said earlier in the day as she shoved her duffle bag into the trunk, “I don’t understand it, everyone else is fine with each other besides you two.” 
You crossed your arms, “He’s just a prick. Has been since I’ve met him.” 
Yunjin rolled her eyes, “You aren’t even sure if he even did have a threesome with those girls.” 
She wasn’t…wrong. But by the way, his dick was hard in those…tight boxers, there’s no way he didn’t fuck them both. 
“Idiot penguin didn’t really do a good job of defending himself if he wasn’t, plus he asked ME to join them.” 
Yunjin just sighed, “He hates when you call him that, he actually wants to be friends with you, ya know. We are all friends, you live right next door to each other, just try to get along tonight, okay?” 
Yet here you were in the backseat with him wanting nothing more than to jump out of the window and let every car hit you. 
The sun started to set, and everyone one by one (except Chaewon and Jay who were driving and the passenger) fell asleep. 
A small bump in the road was enough to wake you from your sleep. You yawned and then the pain of the way your body was twisted into the seat kicked in. 
With a soft groan, you shifted yourself up, eyes wandering down your legs seeing them draped over Sunghoon’s lap. 
His eyes were wide and lips tucked between his eyes as he stared down at your legs. You shifted in your seat, ready to yell at him and pull your legs back but when your foot grazed over his crotch, you were in more shock than he was when realizing you were awake, head snapping to you so fast. 
“YN…” he whispers, eyes darting to the front of the car then back to you, “It’s not—“
“Then what is it you prick?!” you whisper back. He had a fucking hard-on?! What the hell was he thinking and doing with your legs?!
Sunghoon quickly placed his hand over his hard cock, trying to conceal it as if it would help make the situation better. 
It didn’t. 
“And now you’re touching yourself?!” you whispered in a snap, “You’re such a pervert you prick!” 
Sunghoon narrowed his eyes down at you, “Will you shut the fuck up and listen for a second, ya?” you thinned your lips in a line, waiting. “You at some point in your sleep shoved your legs into my lap. It woke me up and I was so close to shoving you off me, but you looked peaceful and Jay made me promise to not start shit with you.” Ahhh so they all were in on trying to get you two to play nice, “So I left you alone, but you started shifting around and…” 
And he got a fucking boner just from your legs. 
“You have a leg fetish or something?” you raise a brow at him. 
Only for your legs. 
Sunghoon shook his head, “You’re fucking crazy.” 
But maybe he was the crazy one. Ever since he’s met you, he’s wanted nothing more than to fuck that attitude out of you. To fuck all that hate you have for him out. To turn that scrunched face full of anger every time you look at him into a relaxed sexual face with you moaning out his name. 
He’s never once heard you call him by name. Even when he’s texted you about stuff about hanging out with everyone or for class or homework or literally anything about the apartment you always call him some wack ass name. 
Sunghoon has it as his goal to get you to say his name. Whether that’s by him fucking you into the next year, or gaslighting you into saying it somehow. He preferred option one. 
He found you so ridiculously sexy. Your attitude always got him going and he couldn’t explain why. Maybe it’s because he wanted to fuck that attitude out, maybe it’s because over the year of knowing you, he’s grown a little crush. Loving the way your eyes light up when a strawberry alcoholic beverage of any kind is placed in front of you. Loving how you smile when you see animals and how you dance around with Yunjin in her living room. 
He found it so sexy how you give back every ounce of bullshit he threw at you. So sexy when you wear your tight sweatpants that shape your ass do fine. Finding the small mole above your naval so cute and attractive, mostly when you wear tight crop tops or shorter shirts that lift when you stretch showing off your tummy. 
Sunghoon was so down bad for you in many ways that even he wasn’t able to understand it. 
He hated you to a degree, but only in a way to keep himself from feeling things he shouldn’t for you. 
“I’m crazy?” you burned holes into his eyes when he nodded, “Says the one who got a boner over my legs.” 
Sunghoon couldn’t hold it back anymore, slowly palming his cock, “Yeah? And what about it? Your legs are so fucking sexy.” Sunghoon loved your legs and wanted to rub his hands up and down them. Wanted to squeeze the plush of your thighs. Wanted them to straddle him. 
You could see it in his eyes, the way his pupils were starting to look blown out and filled with so much lust. He’s never looked at you like that before. 
It made your cheeks flush and made you speechless. Your eyes wandered away from his and down to the hand palming himself, watching as his hips slowly shifted up with each stroke of his palm. 
It sent heat down your body and pooled between your legs. You hated him, so why was watching him stroke himself so hot to you? Making you want to continue watching him. 
“Oh, you so want me,” he whispered, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, slowly sliding his hand down his sweatpants and boxers, letting out a soft grunt and he flung his head back into the headrest, keeping his eyes locked with yours. 
You watched how the moonlight and street lamps shined on him as he fucked up into his fist slowly. 
“Prick,” you whispered back at him, closing your thighs together in hopes of concealing the rising heat between them. But Sunghoon notices everything. 
“You’re so wet, aren’t you? All just from watching me? So dirty.” He was making your blood boil. But the slick between your legs was worse than your anger at the moment, and you knew that he could see it too. 
“Shut up,” you closed your legs tighter, trying to fight yourself from looking at him, from looking at how his hand moves under his sweatpants. 
“Touch yourself.” 
Your eyes widened, “Excuse you?!” 
“Shut the fuck up!” he snapped, making you realize you said that a bit too loud, with a groan he repeated himself, “I said touch yourself.” 
You snarl at him, opening your mouth to fight back but ultimately stopping when he pulls his hand from his pants and lifts his hips to slide them down to his thighs. 
He looked back at you as he wrapped his hand back around himself, a smirk raising, “Close your mouth, you might start drooling, YN.” 
You didn’t realize how wide you let your jaw drop at his size…he was huge. Maybe that day you told him to turn his music down, his cock showing wasn’t because of how tight his boxers were…
You closed your mouth, sliding your back into the seat and slouching down, running your thighs even more together. 
Sunghoon was loving the way you were looking at him. Loved how you kept darting your eyes back and forth between his face and cock. Oh, the way he’ll tease you about this until his last breath. 
He leaned towards you a bit, rubbing his thumb over the tip to spread his precum, “Touch yourself, YN.” 
Your heart was racing, your body on fire. You wanted to. So bad. But didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. 
Sunghoon let a small moan leave his lips, and you were done for. 
You slid your hand down your shorts, your fingers working their way to spread your slick around your clit. 
“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, eyebrows furrowing, “Keep going.” 
You stared down at his cock, watching how he bucked his hips in movement with his hand, seeing how his precum leaked from the tip. 
But then he released himself, reaching over and stopping his hand below your mouth, “Spit.” 
You didn’t hesitate, dripping your saliva into a small pool in his hand. Sunghoon could have came just by the eye contact you gave him as you gave him your spit. Like holy fucking shit it was hot. 
Sunghoon spreads your saliva over his cock, hitting his head back into the headrest as his hand glides so easily up and down his shaft, “Oh, fuck.” 
You bit your lips and pressed two fingers inside you, letting small and quiet whimpers escape just loud enough for him to hear. 
Sunghoon wanted you to expose yourself as he has to you, reaching his free hand to the hem of your shorts and tugging, “Pull’em down.” 
So you did. Releasing your fingers from your cunt only long enough to push your shorts and panties down to your ankles and pumping your fingers back into you. 
Sunghoon hissed at see you finger fuck yourself. Loving how your hips rolled in time with your fingers. God, he wished it was his fingers inside you. 
He looks up to you, seeing that your eyes were still locked onto his cock. He slouched more down into the seat, giving himself more room to pump himself and give you a better view. 
You bit your lips tighter and pushed your fingers in faster, knowing damn well you were covering the seat in your juices. But you didn’t care at that moment. 
Sunghoon’s hand was on your thigh, spreading your leg more apart, giving you that access to finger fuck yourself faster. 
It was driving him up a wall at how you looked right now. You’ve only ever shown him faces of anger, but right now you’re showing him the faces you make when horny and touching yourself. And oh god he was loving it. 
He wanted you to look at him while touching yourself. He wanted to see the face you’d make when you cum, wanting you to watch him cum. 
“Hey, YN,” he was barely able to whisper, “Eyes on me.” 
You locked eyes with him, chills being sent down your spine at his fucked out expression. You couldn’t help but let your imagination run wild. Is this how he looks when he’s having sex? So out of it and lustful? 
You wondered how he’d fuck you while you straddled him. Would his hips buck up like they are doing into his fist? Would he go faster? Harder? The thoughts were endless as you stared back into his eyes. 
His mouth slightly opened, his lips swollen from how hard he was biting them to keep his moans compressed. He let out small grunts, eyes quickly looking down at how covered your hand was with your wetness, wanting to unbuckle himself and grab you by your thighs until your back was touching the bottom of the seat as he spreads your legs and fucked himself into you. 
The thoughts were enough to send him over the edge, “YN,” he whispered.
“Hmm?”
“I’m fixing to cum.” 
Your body tensed, fingers moving faster, “Cum then,” you whispered back, your thumb now doing circles on your clit as you pumped yourself. 
“M’cumming,” he said with a deep inhale, tucking his lips back between his teeth as he released, his cum leaking out so perfectly and down his hand. 
“Fuck,” you whimper, working your fingers faster. 
Sunghoon slid his boxers up first, wiping his cum on the inside of his boxers due to not having anywhere else to do so, then slid his sweatpants back over his hips. 
He locked his eyes back to yours, seeing how desperate you looked wanting to cum too. He slides his eyes down to your cunt. If it were his hands there…you would have came twice by now. 
You wanted to release terribly, but the angle of your hand and the small of the backseat made it difficult for you to chase out that climax. You tensed as you tried to reach for it, calling for it. 
Your body froze when Sunghoon’s hand grabs yours, pulling your fingers out of your cunt, “Let me help.” 
Usually, you’d protest and yell at him. Call him a prick. Shove him away. But right now you wanted to cum and that priority was above all else. 
He replaced your fingers with his. His long fingers slid into you so gracefully, “Fuck you’re so wet,” he moans softly, angling his hand in the perfect spot as he hit your g-spot. Sunghoon couldn’t believe he was feeling you in his hand, feeling your slick pool in his palm, feeling you clench around his fingers. He was already getting hard again. 
“Feels good baby?” he whispers in your ear and all you do in response is nod. 
Something about his fingers was driving you crazy. The way they hit your g-spot with such ease, the way his thumb brushed against your clit with each movement…
“Say my name,” he says into your ear, pumping his fingers in you faster. 
“No,” you say back, your hand flying to his wrist and squeezing it tightly. 
“Say my name, YN,” he said again, curling his fingers so deep inside you, your climax nearing so fast you didn’t have time to think, “Say my name baby.” 
You opened your mouth, not to say his name, but to moan as you came around his fingers and hand. Sunghoon acted fast enough to press his lips to yours, suppressing your moan from being too loud and letting the others find out what was happening in the back seat. 
You closed your eyes at your release, Sunghoon’s fingers still moving inside you slowly, helping you chase out at high. 
You kissed him back, without so much as a second thought, you kissed him back. 
Maybe you did it as a way to thank him for helping you release, maybe you did it because you wanted to. The lines were blurred and you didn’t know why you let him kiss you. 
His fingers slid out from your cunt as he leaned more into you, his tongue spreading your lips apart and making its way into your mouth twirling the muscle around yours. 
Once you came down from your high, your eyes opened wide, and shoved Sunghoon back to his side of the car. A chuckle left his lips, “Back to hating me?” 
“I never stopped hating you!” 
“Right,” he clicked his tongue, as he looked down at his hand covered in your cum, “That’s not what your body said five minutes ago.” 
You wanted to call him his usual nickname but stopped short when he lifted his hand to his lips, tongue extending out and licking your cum from his palm then shoved his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. 
Fuck she tastes so good. 
Your face reddens, “Prick,” 
His eyes roamed down to your cunt, “Pull your shorts up.” 
“I hate you.” 
Once you all arrived at the hotel and checked into your rooms, you quickly locked the door, sliding your back down the wood and covering your face in your hands. 
The guilt of what happened was finally hitting you. You masturbated with him. Watch him cum down his hand and even let him make you cum. You let him kiss you, and shove his tongue down your throat. 
You felt dirty and in need of a shower to wash away the guilt and feeling of his hand between your legs. 
Everyone was supposed to meet down in the lobby twenty minutes after getting to their rooms to change and do whatever else before hitting up the club. It was plenty of time to shower and wash Sunghoon off you. 
You scrubbed your body clean and even double-brushed your teeth before sliding into the dress Yunjin and Chaewon forced you to bring, “It makes you look so hot!” Yunjin said, “Fits you in all the right places!” 
Well, she was right. The red dress was made of silk and slid down your body perfectly as well as fit you perfectly. It was tight around your frame to show off your curves, shaping your ass and lifting your tits. You slid your feet into matching red sneakers, not caring enough to walk around in heels all night. 
You arrived in the lobby, seeing that Jake and Sunghoon were the first ones there.
Just looking at Sunghoon not only brought back your moment in the car together but brought out a different feeling. 
You could tell he also showered by how wet his hair still was. His hair was parted perfectly in its normal part, pieces sliding down into his face. His black button-up shirt was tight against his frame, showing his muscled arms and shoulders perfectly. Matching his shirt, he wore black pants that fit him perfectly in a loose way. 
Jake mirrored his outfit but in white, going for a whole yin and yang thing. Which made sense for the two of them being best friends and all. 
“Wow,” Jake was the first to speak, “You look—“
“Sexy,” Sunghoon finished for him, his gaze eyeing you up and down. 
“Yes! Sexy!” 
Sunghoon tried to not let his irritation with his best friend show as he watched him practically drool over you. If only Jake knew he was knuckles deep in your pussy not even an hour ago. 
Hell, Sunghoon was trying to not drool over you right now. Red was definitely your color and it was doing something to him down in his pants. Especially with the way the tops of your breasts pooled over the top of that dress. 
You noticed how he was eye fucking you, earning you to scrunch your nose at him and look away, putting your attention fully on Jake. 
Shit, there’s that attitude I want to fuck right out of her. 
It didn’t take much longer for the others to arrive and off to the club you all went. 
The club was packed. The music you didn’t quite care for and Sunghoon wouldn’t let you out of his sight, following your every move like a hawk hunting his prey. 
Everyone else had found their way to the dance floor, shaking some ass and grinding up on random strangers having the time of their lives. That could be you if you didn’t have an idiot penguin on your heels. 
You walked up to the bar, waving the bartender over, “Yes ma’am?” he said, his eyes immediately dropping to your cleavage.
“She’ll take a strawberry coconut rum with extra ice please, make it two,” Sunghoon answered for you. 
You looked over at him, seeing how closely he stood next to you. Sunghoon wanted to touch you, have his hands on you to show every man in this club to back the fuck off. 
“You got it,” the bartender said, giving a small look of irritation at Sunghoon. 
Sunghoon just smirked, eyes flickering to his name tag, “Thank you, Choi Yeonjun.” 
Yeonjun just thinned his lips out, “Yeah, you’re welcome.” Then he walked off to make the drinks. 
Your glare at him didn’t falter, “Can I help you?” Sunghoon asked. 
“Can I help YOU? I can order my drinks myself.” 
“He was literally eye fucking you, I had to do something.” 
You raised a brow at him, “Huh? Is it eating you up so much that other men are looking at me?” 
Yes because no one else is allowed to have you. 
“Why would I care about that? It’s not them looking, it’s the fact they aren’t just looking. They are undressing you with their eyes and I can’t fucking stand it.” 
You’ve never seen Sunghoon so…protective before. He’s never batted an eye at you twice at the clubs and bars back home, letting any and every man hit on you as much as they wanted. What changed between then and now? 
Yeonjun returned with your drinks, giving you a flirty smile and glare at Sunghoon before walking away again. 
Sunghoon snarled at him. 
“Anyway!” You snapped, “How did you know what to even order me?” 
Sunghoon chuckled, taking a sip of the alcohol, “I’ve known you for over a year, YN. I’ve seen what you drink when we’ve gone out and at parties. I know you.” 
Somehow that hit hard to your heart, that he even paid that much attention to you outside of the constant teasing. 
“You hate me, why go through this trouble?” you scoffed, chugging down your drink quickly, wanting to already feel the buzz. 
“I hate you, but not in the same way you hate me,” he finally admitted, “It’s not any trouble at all to protect you, I’ve always done it, always shooed off anyone who would hit on you for too long. You just never noticed it.” 
Your heart skipped a beat, your memory shoving back in time at every time someone hit on you, how they’d flirt and touch your waist, only for them to leave to grab a drink and never return. Now you know why, Sunghoon got to them. 
“What do you mean that you don’t hate me the same way I hate you?” 
Sunghoon looked away from you, chugging down the last bit of his drink before tossing it back onto the bar counter and taking a deep breath in. 
“You hate me because of how I flirt with you, how I tease you about anything and everything. You hate me for how loud I blast my music, hate me for being loud when Heeseung, Jay, and Jake are over, hate me for the number of females I’ve brought in and out of my apartment, hate me because you think I had a threesome with those girls all that time ago when I actually didn’t, by the way, I sent them home before anything else could happen. And you hate me for competing against you in class, hate me for joining your friend group, the list goes on. But me? I hate you because of how bad I want you.” 
He looked back at you, his face softened from his hardened look from earlier at Yeonjun. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was holding everything back. 
Sunghoon wanted to yell at you for how stupid you were for not seeing how he felt about you. That his little teasing and acts of flirting were because he likes you. Yeah, he wanted to fuck your brains out along with that nasty attitude of yours, that ain’t no lie, but the moment he first laid his eyes on you his heart wanted to jump out his chest. And after seeing the way you eyed him up that one day you went to yell at him about his music, it tipped him over the edge to always wanting to be that thorn in your side pissing you off. Because it was better than making you feel nothing at all for him. 
Sunghoon sighs, “I hate you because I want you so bad. I hate you because you can’t even dare say my name. I hate you for the things you make me feel. I fucking hate you for letting me kiss you in the car because now all I can think about is how I’d get my lips back on yours.”
You stared blankly at him, before nervously shaking your head and letting out a chuckle, “Right. This is just your way of teasing me again.” 
“If I wanted to tease you right now, I’d bring up how badly you were gasping at my cock in the car.” 
“Shut up!” You snapped, your face reaching the same shade as your dress. 
He smirked at you, “All that aside, I want you so fucking bad that I can’t handle it anymore, and by how fucking wet you were for me…” he took a step closer to you, face nearly inches apart from yours, “I know you want me so bad too.”
You swallowed, body shaking from how close he was to you right now. Sunghoon rested his forehead against yours, biting at his lower lip, “Say my name,” 
You lifted your face a bit, barely brushing your lips to his, “No,” 
Sunghoon’s hands were now at your waist, fingers digging into that sexy dress of yours that he wanted to rip from your body, “God I want to fuck that attitude out of you.”
Your heart was doing flips and you finally understood why: because of the feelings that ran deep within you that you sheltered up and locked away. Finally understanding that’s why he made your blood boil at nearly existing. You were forcing the feelings you felt for him away. 
You landed your hands on his biceps, rubbing your thumb over the muscle, “Say my name,” he said again. 
You smiled, shaking your head. 
Sunghoon just smirked back at you, taking a few steps back and guiding you with him, “I am going to get you to say my name.” 
You, for the first time, flirted back, “How are you going to do that?” 
He didn’t respond, just kept pulling you toward the entrance of the club and until you were back at the hotel and being shoved into his room. 
His mouth found yours, his hands roaming every inch of your body as your fingers trailed down his shirt, undoing every button until the black fabric was lying somewhere on the floor. 
Sunghoon shoved his tongue down your throat at the same time he found the zipper to your dress, pulling it down in a shift motion to get you out of it quickly. 
His cock was twitching in his pants, so eager to be set free and find its new home inside your cunt. 
The moment your dress hit the floor, you were shoved onto your back on the bed, his hands on your hips and pulling you to the edge, looping his fingers into your panties nearly ripping them off you. 
“So fucking needy,” you teased him, “Want me that bad?” 
Sunghoon hissed, “You have no fucking idea.” 
He towered over you, pressing his lips back to yours as his fingers slipped into your soaked pussy. You moaned against his mouth, closing your thighs around his hand. 
“Say my name,” he said once again, “I wanna hear you say it.” 
You bit your lip, ushering out another no. 
Sunghoon was going insane for this little game of yours, it turned him on more than he’d like to admit. Maybe he was actually crazy. 
“Say my name,” he said as he pushed his fingers into you harder, curling his fingers at your g-spot, “Scream my name and I might consider letting you cum.”
You slid your hand down to your clit, working your fingers against it, “That's fine, I’ll just make myself cum.” 
Sunghoon groaned, swatting your hand from your clit and removing his fingers. Both hands grabbing at your waist and flipping you over, lifting your ass up and making your back arch, “Shit I can’t wait to fuck that attitude of yours away.” 
“Funny you think that’s something that can be done,” 
He took a handful of your hair and lifted you up, letting out a “Watch me,” in a whisper against your ear, then shoved you back down into the sheets. 
You heard the sound of his pants hitting the floor, then felt his tip prod at your entrance, “Prick…” 
“What was that?” 
“Pri—“
Before you could make out the word, he shoved his length into you, bottoming out then pushing himself back out and then in, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. 
You didn’t care though, the pleasure was far too great as he fucked into you like you were a bitch in heat, “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll start thinking twice before giving me attitude again.” 
And that’s how you ended up here, back pressed so tightly against his chest as his cock and fingers worked their magic on your body. 
You reached your hands up and behind his, fingers tangling into his hair as your brain became foggy. 
He fucked into you with the full intention of getting you to scream his name. Of getting you to come so unglued on his cock you’ll be begging him to fuck you some more. 
Even with these goals in mind, Sunghoon couldn’t believe he had your body pressed up against his, cock so balls deep into your cunt, and hearing your moans so crystal clear in his ear. He loved it. Loved how much of a mess he was making of you. 
He worked his middle finger faster against your clit, “Say my name,” he begged, “Say my fucking name.” 
You bit down on your lip, trying with any willpower left that you had to keep from screaming his name. From giving him exactly what he wanted. 
Sunghoon kept trying and wasn’t going to stop until his name left your lips. He’ll fuck you until the sun starts raising if he had to, all to hear your pretty voice speak his name. 
Your climax was fast approaching, you wanted to cum so bad, and you knew what you had to do to reach it, finally letting go. 
“Sunghoon,” you softly moaned. 
“Louder,” he growled. 
“Sunghoon,” you moaned again. 
“Louder!” 
“SUNGHOON,” you screamed at the same time you came on his dick, his fingers and thrusts did not slow long down. 
“Fuccckkkk yessss,” he groaned, removing his fingers from your clit and using all his weight to push you back down into the sheets, his hands taking yours and lifting them above your head, pounding into you faster and harder than before. 
You chanted his name, losing your breath at the ecstasy that filled you. 
“That’s it, baby, scream my name like it’s the only name you’ll ever know.” 
You continued to moan his name, making it music to his ears and filling his heart with such happiness he didn’t think was possible. 
“Fuck, you love hoonie’s cock, ya? Love the way I give it to you?”
“Hoonie,” you cried out, “Fucking love your cock so much.” 
Sunghoon gripped his hands tighter around yours, “Cum for me again baby, you can do it.” 
You released on him again, your eyes seeing stars. 
He pushed your legs further apart with his knees and fucked harder into you, “I’m so in love with you,” he admitted, “I love that stupid ass attitude of yours, I love fucking that attitude out, I love the way you say my name and love the way you look at me while I fuck you. I love you.” 
You lifted your head, barely being able to look at him, but you did. You were looking up at him with such endearment. Like he was the one who put the stars in the sky just like he’s the one making you see them right now. 
“Sunghoon,” he came undone at how softly you said his name, his seed unloading into your gummy walls, slowing his thrust as he chased down his high, “I love you too.” 
You both sat hand in hand in the backseat, Sunghoon pinching your cheeks in a teasing manner as he rubbed his nose against yours, his smile so wide. 
“Hey,” Jay called from the front seat, “What the fuck happened with you two?” 
Heeseung groaned and slung his head onto the headrest, “You don’t even want to know! They were fucking each other's brains out all night.” 
Chaewon yawned at the driver's seat, “Be lucky you didn’t have a room next to his.” 
“No for real,” Heeseung added, “I got so tired hearing how many times he asked YN to cum for him. Wanted to shove pencils down my ears.” 
Sunghoon slapped his friend's chest, “Bring earphones next time buddy.” 
Jake and Yunjin looked at each other confused at what happened between their best friends, but going along anyway. Jake always knew Sunghoon had feelings for you and saw how he bottled it up. Jake guessed last night was Sunghoon’s tipping point. And Yunjin always knew you’d break at some point and accept Sunghoon, she just didn’t expect it to be as a lover. 
“Anyway,” Jay said rubbing his temples, “Let’s hit the road, I have work tomorrow and need to sleep off more of this hangover.” 
Chaewon then started the drive back home. 
Sunghoon rested his face back against yours, bringing your lips to his, “Say my name again.” 
“Sunghoon,” you whispered between kisses, “Sunghoon, Sunghoon, Sunghoon.”
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ichorai · 5 months
Text
wool ; coriolanus snow.
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pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)
synopsis ; when you laughed, airy and light and reminiscent to that of wind chimes, coryo wished he could bottle up the sound and keep it as his, only his.
words ; 1.5k
themes ; mild fluff/angst, slightly suggestive
warnings / includes ; set before events of tbosas so no actual spoilers, making out, clemensia appearance, mentions of other characters, coryo's paranoia, he's not exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could, let's pretend the academy also serves dinner
a/n ; this man has consumed me body and soul. this fic was inspired by the song wool by flatland cavalry on the movie soundtrack! let me know if you guys would like a second part :)
series masterlist. main masterlist.
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Coriolanus Snow was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He bore an aristocratic last name—yet you noticed that his dress shirt’s buttons seemed to be various different shades of black and slightly misshapen. His voice, so sweetly saccharine, charming, seductive—would whisper falsities like it was second nature. He would often claim that he wasn’t hungry, but you’d catch the longing glint in his pale irises as he eyed the steaming bread rolls Sejanus slathered with generous helpings of butter. 
Control. That was all he needed. 
It crumbled, ever so slightly, when you nudged your slice of apple pie in his direction. His eye twitched, and you pursed your lips, pulling your plate back to you. You ate quietly, and Coryo stared at you all the while, as if he were mentally dissecting your mind—studying you. 
You knew. It was all too clear, even if he wouldn’t tell you. And if he wouldn’t tell his closest friend—or, the closest thing he had to a friend, the two of you certainly did things that friends wouldn’t do—he most definitely wouldn’t let it slip that he was financially strapped to anyone else.
That same day, he met you in the back of the library. The two of you were supposed to be studying history—Professor Demigloss was one of the nicer teachers at the academy, but that didn’t mean he was any less strict with grades. And neither you nor Coryo could afford slipping now. Not if you both wanted to get into university. Being on top meant that there was only greater distance to fall.
But there were… distractions.
Mainly, his foot knocking against yours under the table. Your hand over his jostling knee. His teeth digging into his bottom lip. When you shifted so that your thighs brushed against his, the books spread out over the table were entirely forgotten.
He pushed you against the bookshelves a mere second later, the wood digging into your back uncomfortably, and kissed you until you grew dizzy. You were a welcome distraction—he could taste the apples on your tongue. The way you snaked your arms around his neck, toying with his pale blonde curls, pulling him closer until his body slotted against yours just perfectly—clicking into place like a pair of magnets facing opposite directions. It was desperate and heavy and he could only barely pull away to inhale sharply before cradling the base of your head to tilt your jaw back and kiss you even harder. Coryo swallowed any muffled whimpers that slipped from you when his free hand traveled lower.
Lower, lower, dangerously low—
When Clemensia’s voice echoed through the library in search of her lab partner, the two of you sprang apart, gasping for air.
She rounded the bend, and her dark eyes landed on the two of you. Keen, observant, narrowed. Coriolanus was flushed, hair mussed, lips swollen, chest rising and falling erratically. You were looking anywhere but the two of them, smoothing out your clothes and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
“Oh! I guess I’ll just have to find another time to bother you, Coriolanus,” she tittered, sickly sweet. She tilted her head with a tempered smile. “What’re you guys studying?”
Snow rolled his eyes in exasperation. “History,” he said. Curt, simple.
“Right.” She eyed you curiously. When she spoke again, it was directed more to you than him, sounding uncharacteristically void of frigid scorn. “I’d be careful if I were you. You sure he’s not just sleeping with you because you’re the top of the class?”
You stiffened, and Coryo bristled. 
“I’ll be fine, Clem. See you tomorrow.” 
There was another beat of terse silence. Her eyes darted warily between the two of you, and she whisked away in a flutter of red and black.
You blew out a breath. Your mouth tingled with the phantom memory of his lips planted over yours, and your cheeks flushed with heat. The two of you sat back down, both quiet. You worked in fluid tandem with each other, as you always did. His hands kept to himself this time. 
“I’m not using you,” he whispered, eventually. “It’s not like that.”
“I know,” you replied hesitantly, testing the waters. “It’s not like you’d need to. Your grades are just fine as is.”
The two of you kept working until your fingers cramped with overuse and his head pulsed with the beginnings of a migraine. 
“Dinner?” you asked once the clock struck six, nudging him. “I think they’ll be serving mashed potatoes today.”
His stomach clenched at the thought of warm food. Control.
“Sure,” he replied coolly, flicking his books closed and gathering up all the papers to stuff into his bag. “I’m sick of mashed potatoes, though.”
You shot him an incredulous smile, brows quirking up. He was lying, but you didn’t know. “Not even when it’s seasoned with roasted garlic? A dash of the freshest of herbs?”
The blue of his eyes gleamed when they bore into yours. “Not even then.”
“You’re a strange man, Coriolanus Snow.” Your lips twisted downward, but it was more of a smile than a frown. When your eyes darted below to glance at his school uniform, you couldn’t help but notice the unironed creases in the carmine fabric. One of the buttons—the very top one—was oddly shaped and a different color from all the rest. It reminded you of his dress shirt. You quite liked that dress shirt. He looked handsome in it, but you chalked it up to his uncanny ability to look handsome in just about anything.
Your head tilted to the side, molten eyes fixed on the button. You knew. He knew that you knew. Panic seized in his chest, an irrational clawing sensation searing within his lungs. Would you tell the rest of the class? What would you say to them? That he was living as filthily as a District boy? That he skipped meals because he couldn’t afford them? That his cousin mended his clothes for him?
But your frown-smile deepened. Fondness stained your expression, clear as day. Coriolanus found himself surprised, as he often did around you. 
“I love your buttons, by the way,” you mumbled, reaching out to trace it with a finger. He held his breath on instinct. “Is it a stylistic choice? Having them all irregular like this?”
Stylistic. Coriolanus almost laughed.
“Mhm. It’ll be in fashion one day. I’m just ahead of the trends,” he murmured charmingly. A bluff.
When you laughed, airy and light and reminiscent to that of wind chimes, Coryo wished he could bottle up the sound and keep it as his, only his. 
“Maybe I’ll start wearing mismatched buttons now, too. Rebel against uniformity.” You stood up from your chair as you spoke, not catching the way Coriolanus’ expression faltered momentarily with your last three words. It was a joke, he had to remind himself. Just a joke. “Come on. Let’s go have dinner. I’m starving.”
He jerkily stood up. Grabbed your hand just because he could, fingers folding over your wrist. He could feel your pulse, thumping quicker and quicker. You regarded him curiously. Snow’s remaining spindly hand cradled your face and he stepped closer, intuitive eyes roaming over your face, wondering just how much of you was real. How much of you was lying, just as he was?
His lips fell over yours again. This time, the kiss was sweeter. Slower, more languid. His nose brushed over your cheekbone, warm to the touch. You hummed pleasantly against him, before placing a hand flat over his chest—over the crooked button—and pulled away with a dazed smile. It felt dangerously good that you hadn’t tugged your hand out of his grasp yet. His grip tightened in a near possessive manner.
As the two of you began walking out of the library, Coriolanus couldn’t help but think back to your hyperbole—about how far from starving you truly were. You wouldn’t ever know, not when your family was the very epitome of Capitol wealth. But he was glad he wasn’t the only one lying, for once, even if your lie was merely an inflation of the truth. 
After dinner, Coryo worked off the top button of his uniform with repeated tugs to the threads, pulling apart Tigris’ handiwork. He slid it over the table to you, watching the way your countenance softened in endearment. He kissed you again in the dark hallways outside the cafeteria, finding it difficult to get your lips to melt away from your tightly-stretched grin.
He walked home with a mirroring smile and a missing button that night. One less piece of the wolf’s sheeply clothes.
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undiscovered-horizon · 5 months
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[To be loved is to be changed. And while being married to you has changed Mihawk, it's not entirely for the better. He's a possessive and protective lover to the marrow of his bones.]
(TW for unwanted sexual comments)
Mihawk knew the name 'Shantaro' quite well. Any time you told him a story from your adolescence that revolved around borderline illegal, unethical or simply reckless adventures, Shantaro was there. The little devil on your shoulder but as reliable as a true angel.
He, however, never expected you to run into Shantaro on the odd night when the two of you can go out. Comfortably basking in your presence, Mihawk is thoroughly enjoying your undivided attention.
Until.
You're suddenly rendered speechless as you notice something - someone - over his shoulder. A wide smile spreads across your face. Mihawk is unsure whether he should rejoice with how beautiful you look or seethe, knowing that another person dared to distract you from him.
"It's Shantaro!" you squeal excitedly. "I'm sorry, love, I'll be just a moment. I haven't seen her in ages!"
Mihawk doesn't even try to stop you as you make your way through the crowd at the lounge. His watchful gaze follows your steps as you approach a stringy woman in a silver dress. A hurricane of black curls sits on top of her head. Her piercing, grey eyes notice you, suddenly widening with both surprise and happiness. The two of you engulf each other in a bone-crushing hug, silently exchanging feelings of longing towards the closest friend from younger years.
The swordsman's night, however, is about to get even worse as he hears someone behind him whisper:
"She's a minx, that foxy wife of yours."
He turns around with his jaw and fists clenched. Mihawk's enraged gaze meets the face of an amused man who is casually sipping on his drink. There's a glint in the stranger's eyes that makes the swordsman's skin crawl - he wanted to get under Dracule's skin.
"Don't look so surprised," the stranger reprimands him. The man must have mistaken Mihawk's baffled expression at the bold words for genuine surprise that someone put two and two together. Truthfully, he couldn't care less whether people know that he's married. "Many pirates get hard fantasising about having their way with the Warlord's wife." Judging by the way the man licks his lips and hides a certain hunger behind his eyes, it's clear he's part of the aforementioned group. "But the Warlord himself? Unfortunately for him, she turns him soft," he drones the word as though it's a serious insult.
"Yes, she does," Mihawk answers slowly.
The events that followed happened exceptionally fast: Mihawk reached for the stranger's neck and slammed the man's head against the bar counter. Curiously, people happening to be in their vicinity carry on as though nothing bizarre is happening - they are smart enough not to get in Dracule Mihawk's way, especially when he is visibly upset.
Blood is gushing from the strange man's forehead, his eye already beginning to swell and change colour. The swordsman tilted his victim's head back just enough to lean down and growl. "Which is why I'm going to kill you much faster than you deserve for your offence."
Mihawk glances in your direction. You're still occupied, excitedly telling Shantaro about the years after you've last met her.
He'll be done before you notice him gone.
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lqvesoph · 1 month
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She’s WHOSE daughter??? || LN4
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gif by @quadrantslandonorris
lando norris x webber!reader
summary: During a trip to Daniel’s farm house, you find an unexpected visitor standing in your best friend’s backyard
part 1 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5
masterlist | taglist
Part 2
"So glad you could make it!", Danny called and wrapped you into a hug as soon as he opened the front door. "You know I love it here!", you laughed and stepped into his home in Perth, Australia.
It was Monday before the Australian Grand Prix and Daniel had invited you to spend a few days at his farm before flying across the country to Melbourne.
You spotted an unfamiliar pair of shoes next to Daniel‘s million others but didn’t think much of it. Maybe he bought another pair.
"Daniel, tell me again where the- oh hi", you heard a familiar british accent, one that you have missed over the last three long weeks since Bahrain and turned around to find a dripping wet and shirtless Lando in the glass door that led out to the backyard. His curls were dripping shining droplets of water onto his defined and tanned chest from which you couldn’t teat your eyes away.
"The towels are in the drawer, mate", Daniel spoke, snapping you out of your trance. "Thanks", Lando mumbled but didn’t move from his place.
You all stood there in silence for a few seconds before you cleared your throat. "I… uh- I-I‘ll go to my room", you stuttered, taking the suitcase and quickly making your way up the marble stairs.
"Why didn’t you tell me she was coming?", you heard Lando hiss. "Why would you have wanted me to?", Daniel asked nonchalant, and you knew you shouldn’t eavesdrop but you couldn’t help it, wanting to know Lando‘s response. "I- I don’t know", he stuttered defensively before tapping over to the drawer to get himself a towel.
Truth was, his small crush on you grew over the last couple of weeks. He followed your every move on Instagram and Twitter, even scrolling down to pictures from 2016, finding a few of you and baby Oscar during his Formula 3 career or little you in Daniel‘s Red Bull from 2017. He‘s probably memorized your highlights at this point.
Adding to that he asked Pietra for her advice on your best songs and your discography has been on repeat for three weeks straight.
You put your suitcase next to your bed and plopped down on it, only now noticing your racing heart.
During your deep dive through Lando’s Instagram account, you obviously had seen a few pictures of him shirtless, the one from Bahrain being the set of pictures you were hung up on the most, even saving one of them. But jeez… none of those pictures did the live picture justice!
You opened your eyes and took a deep breath before rummaging around your suitcase to find the black bikini you had packed for your trip.
You put it on and took your towel, phone and sunglasses and made your way downstairs. Lando and Daniel sat by the pool on two sun beds, playing some sort of card game. Both were shirtless and had matching bucket hats on their curls. You chuckled at the sight and placed your towel on the third sun bed.
Lando looked up from the game and subtly looked you over, his eyes lingering at your pushed up breast, that were barely covered by the tight black bikini top, a little longer than appropriate but you couldn’t find yourself caring. The opposite actually, the little hesitation brought a smirk to your face.
You lay down on your stomach on the sun bed and closed your eyes. "If I fall asleep, please put some sunscreen on my back in an hour or two", you mumbled, getting a hum from both boys next to you.
You couldn’t even begin to explain how much you have missed the Australian sun.
*~**~*
You didn’t even notice you fell asleep until you were woken up by a pair of warm hands rubbing your back. Guess the flight has been more exhausting than you thought.
You lifted your head up slightly, still a little dazed from the sleep. "Heyy, good morning", a soft british accent spoke over you.
Lando.
Then you started noticing a few other things around you. For example your hair that was wrapped in a loose bun, one that you definitely didn’t do yourself.
"I put your hair up so it wouldn’t stick on the sunscreen", he said, almost as if he had read your thoughts. "Thanks", you mumbled, then you frowned. "How did you-"
"I have two younger sisters, so I know a little about hair styles", Lando chuckled and kneaded your shoulders while rubbing in the sunscreen. The small action made you groan a little. "Feels good", you muttered.
"I can tell", he spoke and you could hear the smirk on his face, so you kicked your leg up to hit his back. "Owh", he let out and broke out in laughter after. You couldn’t help but join in as well and pushed yourself up on your elbows to look around you.
You noticed the missing sunglasses on your face when squinting to see against the setting sun but quickly found them on the table next to you.
"Daniel is getting the grill ready and Heidi has just arrived a few minutes ago", Lando told you and you turned your head to meet his eyes. But got quickly distracted by his tanned chest. Your eyes flickering down and stayed there for a second longer than necessary, before looking back up into his green eyes and only now realizing how close your faces were to each other.
His gaze flickered down to your lips before finding your eyes again.
"Hey dipshit, dinner is almost ready!", Daniel called from the path between the pool section and the little hut with a fire place. "We’ll be there in a second!", Lando called back, not tearing his eyes away from yours.
Your eyes darted down to his plumb lips. "We probably should…", you whispered, letting your sentence uncompleted. Lando nodded but still kept his gaze you. "Yeah, we probably should", he agreed.
The two of you kept each other gaze for a few seconds longer before looking down at the same time and clearing your throats. You grabbed your black shorts and quickly put them over your bikini bottoms, feeling your heart beating fast in your chest and a small throbbing in your lower region. A quick stolen glance at Lando told you, your interaction also left its mark on him.
He cleared his throat another time before standing up and grabbing a baby blue loose dress shirt to put over his shoulders, leaving the buttons undone.
Together you made your way over to the fireplace, where you found Heidi and Daniel next to a bluetooth box that played relaxing music.
"Hey, honey!!", Heidi called and immediately came over to hug you. You smiled and wrapped your arms around the girl who has been like an older sister to you for the longest time.
"It’s so good to see you again!", she smiled and pushed a few strands of hair behind your ear. "Your hair has gotten so long!" You laughed and sat down at the set table.
Daniel looked at Lando with a knowing smirk, whereupon Lando rammed his elbow into the older guy’s ribs.
*~**~*
As the night came, the temperatures got chilly, even in Australia. You shivered a little even if the fire spent a little warmth.
"You cold?", Lando muttered, leaning over the armrest of his chair. You looked over at him, getting lost for a second in the way half of his face was light up by the fire light.
You hummed and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself.
"Take my hoodie", he suggested, pulling the lavender colored hoodie from his chair. "Thanks", you smiled.
From the corner of your eyes you saw how Daniel gave you a rather knowing glance but you chose to ignore it.
That was until he didn’t give you another option.
"Y/n, you wanna come and help me inside?", he asked but it sounded more like a demand. You nodded and stood up from your seat before following Daniel inside.
All while Lando’s eyes never left you.
Daniel was waiting for you by the kitchen counter. "What are you doing?", he wanted to know. You shrugged, knowing exactly what he was talking about.
"He’s cute", you simply replied.
"You know I love you like my little sister but Lando’s one of my best mates. And I already know that he’s got quite the crush on you, it’s fairly obvious so I gotta make sure that this is coming from your side as well and isn’t some sort of joke flirting", the australian explained.
You crossed your arms in front of your chest. "It’s not, I really do think he’s cute", you nodded.
"Does he know who your dad is?", Daniel pressed further, knowing this was some sort of make-or-break question to you.
Given the history of boyfriends you’ve had and loads of your early ones, always dating you for your father, you’ve started to not tell people about your father. Not until you were sure, they were here for you.
Your silence gave Daniel his answer.
"If you like him, why didn’t you then?", he wanted to know. "Because I want to get to know him before! I met him once three weeks ago, do you expect me to just go like "Hi, I’m Y/n, nice to meet you. By the way I’m Mark Webber’s daughter"?? I haven’t exactly spent a lot of time with him", you muttered.
"Just… don’t lead him on. I haven’t seen him this nervous over a girl in a long time", Daniel sighed and opened his arms. "C’mere."
*~**~*
Even though the night got very late, you were up incredibly early the next day, still having to adjust to the eastern australian timezone.
As quietly as possible you walked down the stairs to the kitchen, wearing a pair of jogging shorts and Lando’s hoodie from the previous night which was incredibly comfortable and even smelled like him.
You grabbed yourself a glass of water and sat down crisscrossed on a patio chair.
The morning was still a little fresh, the sun just barely leaking out from the horizon.
"Bit early, isn’t it?", a british accent spoke from behind you. You smiled before turning around to meet Lando’s sleepy eyes.
He stood in the doorway, long gray joggers and a black hoodie, similar to the one you were wearing. His curls were a mess on top of his head as he ruffled through them.
"I could say the same to you", you countered, making the boy smile. "I couldn’t sleep, still adjusting to the timezone", he told you, sitting down on the chair next to you.
You nodded in agreement. "Me too."
For a moment you sat in silence, both looking at the sunrise in front of you.
"You wanna go for a walk at the beach?", Lando suggested after a few minutes, looking over at you.
You considered your options for a second but didn’t see a reason not to, so you nodded and stood up.
You put your glass on the table and your phone in the hoodie pocket.
Together you took the small path that directly led from Daniel’s backyard to the beach.
"Nice hoodie by the way", Lando smirked, tugging at your sleeves. "Thanks, some random guy gave it to me last night", you replied with a giggle. "And you just take stuff from random dudes?", Lando faked a shocked tone. "Nah, only if they are cute", you smiled, making Lando go a little shy as he looked down with a smile.
When the you reached the beach, you stopped in your tracks. Closing your eyes and enjoying the breeze of the ocean.
"I’ve missed this", you muttered, taking a deep breath before opening your eyes to find Lando looking at you. "Los Angeles just isn’t quite the same."
"You said you grew up between LA and Canberra", Lando stated, whereupon you nodded. "How did you meet Oscar then? Because as far as I know he’s spent most of his teens in England. Or Daniel, who’s from the other side of the country", he asked.
"Well, Daniel I met through Red Bull. My dad used to work for them", you replied, careful as not to reveal too much. "At base?"
"Something like this, yeah."
"He’s been like an older brother to me for the longest time but Oscar being closer to me in age, resulted in us turning out like twins", you chuckled.
Lando felt a sting of jealousy when you talked about his teammate like that, knowing he had close to zero rights to feel this way but still.
"Anyway, I met him in the paddock a few years ago and we’ve been friends ever since", you concluded.
"And you’ve been into racing because of your dad?", he asked. You nodded but didn’t clarify further but instead grabbed his hand and dragged him to the ocean.
"Cmon, let’s go in", you called. "Go in??", Lando protested but let you drag him closer to the water. "It’s Australia, it’s warm", you giggled and kicked off your shoes off your feet. You let go of Lando’s hand and entered the water ankle-deep.
You looked back to see Lando taking off his shoes as well as his hoodie, leaving him in a white shirt. Then he carefully tapped the water before walking to you.
"Nice, huh?", you smiled against the rising sun, closing your eyes for a second.
Cold water splashing your back made you scream and open them again. You turned around to find Lando with a devilish grin looking at you. "Lando!!", you called and splashed the water back at him.
In only a few seconds it turned into a water war, both your clothes turning darker from the water splashes on them. Your eyes stopped at Lando’s torso, the water turning his white shirt see through. And you weren’t ashamed to admit that his defined abs distracted you just more than a little bit.
Lando used your little moment of distraction to launch himself at you and throw both of you down into the water completely. You gasped for air, his arms still wrapped around your body and you hair falling in wet strands on your face.
"Idiot!", you called, pushing your hair back to see Lando grin at you. His adorable smile, paired with the wetness of his curls made you smile as well. You put your hand on his neck, slowly pulling him closer to you.
A drop of water falling from his opened lips, mesmerizing you completely. Lando’s eyes searched yours, asking for permission to go ahead. You glance back down to his lips before nodding slightly.
Only seconds later, his lips touched yours in a gentle kiss. Your fingers went through his wet hair and pulled at the end.
His lips on yours felt like fire, and you wanted more.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, his hand holding your thigh as his other squeezed your waist. His lips slowly traveled along your jaw, making you lean your head to the side to give him more space.
You let out a little moan when he gently sucked on the spot under your ear and felt his lips curl into a smirk. Lando pulled back to look at you, your fingers stroking his neck.
You giggled slightly and leaned your forehead against his, closing your eyes for a second.
This is what happiness feels like, you thought.
📍Perth, Australia
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tagged: landonorris, danielricciardo, heidiberger
yn.adams: Perth for the week
comments:
landonorris: Oh, what a pretty sunrise
> yn.adams: U think?
danielricciardo: When was that first picture taken???
> yn.adams: Today morning at about 5:30am while u were peacefully sleeping
> fan: Wait so if Daniel didn’t take that picture does that mean it was Lando???
oscarpiastri: 🤨
> fan: Oscar’s NOT a fan of this new friendship LMAO
fan: The boyfriend vibes are MAJOR on that last picture
fan: Since when are her and Lando friends???
fan: Okay but Yn and Lando would be crazy!!
> fan: I ship it, 100%
load more comments…
📍Perth, Australia
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tagged: yn.adams
landonorris: She can sing and drive
comments:
yn.adams: 2:1 for me, u can only drive
> landonorris: 🥲
> fan: LMAOOO Yn roasting Lando hahahahh
oscarpiastri: yn.adams TEXT ME NOW!!
> fan: Poor guy’s feeling left out fr
fan: Is this a soft launch mr. norriz?
> fan: wdym "soft" HE TAGGED HER!!!
fan: The sunrise…
> fan: Nah u guys don’t understand the significance of that sunrise!!
fan: Lando and Yn posting pictures of sunrises… A picture of Yn that Daniel didn’t take…
> fan: New paddock couple alert??
fan: Lando letting someone else drive and playing passenger princess???
fan: Who even is she?
fan: Does she even know what F1 is?
> fan: LMAOO
load more comments…
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luv4kozume · 1 month
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⏳ 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — MATT STURNIOLO
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PersonalTrainer!Matt x Fem!Reader
Contains: Swearing, slow burn, hella praise, teasing/flirting, pet names (baby, good girl), dry humping, fingering, doggy, stomach bulge, public(ish) sex, unprotected sex, cum-shot (lol idk what to call this). Semi-proof read!
Synopsis: A story in which you and your personal trainer, Matt have some underlying attraction and sexual tension during your session. What happens when neither of you can fight back the temptation anymore?
Word Count: 5,103
a/n: HEY GUYS!!! I know I disappeared from here for a week or so but I’m back now!! I hope this smutty Matt fic makes up for my absence??
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*:・゚✧ 💌 *:・゚✧
The sun rays crept through your window that sat right above your kitchen sink, your headphones resting at your neck as you opened your fridge door. You hummed, grabbing onto various different fruits.
You spun around on your heels, closing the door back with your hip before placing them on the kitchen counter. You glanced over at the clock to make sure that you were still making good time as you tossed the already diced pineapples and mangoes into the blender. You added a couple more things before blending it all together. Once satisfied by the thickness of the smoothie and the slight pink tint to it, you slowly poured it into your cup.
Recently, you had really gotten into fitness. It had been on your bucket list for quite some time and you're finally taking it into action. You had even taken it as far as hiring a personal trainer to help keep you motivated. Although, you sometimes wondered if he was the sole purpose as to why you kept going to the gym in the first place.
Over time, you had developed this little crush on him. Your stomach flipped every time the two of you were alone together during sessions. He had this thing where he loved praising you, obviously you assumed the man was just doing his job but sometimes it felt so much more than that.
However, you never planned to act on this assumption. The last thing you wanted was for there to be some awkward tension between the two of you because you were confusing his kindness for flirting. So you decided to keep those thoughts of attraction to yourself. Besides, it was just an innocent crush.
*ೃ༄
The glass door squeaked a bit as you pushed it open, the gym was empty and a musk scent filled the room. There were full length mirrors scattered just about everywhere, along with many machines used for exercise.
Some of them intimidated you, since you were only just a beginner. But Matt never made you feel pressured in your progress and always reassured you to go at your own pace.
He had a kind and gentle demeanor about him that always made you feel safe whenever he was around. You couldn’t help but wonder if he remained that way in the bedroom as well, your heart raced at just the thought of his praise in that context.
He hadn’t noticed you right away when you made it through the doors until it slammed shut behind you.
He sat across the room, hunched over on a bench. His thighs spreading apart as his arms draped over his lap and his phone rested in his hand. A silver chain shining just past his collarbone, which was fully visible due to his black tank that complimented the grey sweatpants he had on— that hung dangerously low at his hips.
“Hey.” He finally spoke, raising his head up with a smile as you walked closer towards him. “You ready for today?”
You sat on the bench next to him as he switched off his phone and placed it in the pocket of his sweats.
“Yes.” You say nearly out of breath, you could hear your pulse in your ears as he locked his eyes with yours. He made you terribly nervous and you hadn’t had the slightest idea why, especially since nothing has even happened yet.
You could’ve swore that you saw his eyes flicker down to your thighs before going back up to your face. Surely it was an accident, but another part of you hoped otherwise.
“Have you been practicing your form?” He smirked.
You cringed slightly at his question, knowing exactly what he was referring to. The main reason why you wanted to started working out was to build more muscle in your legs and core, but what you didn’t realize was just how intense those exercises can be.
One of those not even being a full exercise at all and just a “simple” warm up instead. The thought of even doing a plank right now made your stomach churn with dread.
“Yeah, of course.” You lie right through your teeth, hoping he doesn’t pick up on it.
“You sure?” Matt teased, getting up from the bench and walking towards the center of the gym. “Wanna come prove that to me?”
“Sure.” You reply in nearly a whisper as Matt adjusted one of the memory foam mats on the floor. This made it easier for your joins to withstand the stretches.
You knelt down, getting on your palms and knees. You could feel his gaze burning into the back of your silhouette, like he was trying to undress you with his eyes. You tried your best to brush off that giddy feeling that rushed through you, getting flustered at just the mere thought of Matt thinking of you in that way.
You let out a shaky exhale as you lowered your head, dropping your chin down into your chest as you supported your weight with your arms and toes. Matt's clothes rustled in your ears as he knelt down to get in front you, playfully tsking at the way your body trembled in this position.
“Firstly,” He begins at a soft whisper. His slender fingers trailing down to raise your face up by your chin, forcing your eyes to lock with his. “You gotta keep your head up.”
“Whoops.” You shyly reply, quickly averting away from his stare. He hummed at your obedience. You shivered under the warmth of his hands as they slithered down your spine past your black sports bra. Moving himself to kneel by your side.
Luckily for you, he couldn't see your rosy cheeks in this warmup— and they certainly were not heated up because of the plank. A nearly inaudible whimper like noise accidentally slipped out of you as one of his hands rested at the small of your back. The other pressing against your abdomen, gently readjusting your form.
“You gotta keep your core up like this to strength it.” He instructs, keeping that tender hold on your bottom half.
Your heart felt like it was pumping a mile a minute, feeling his fingertips resting right at the waistband of your leggings. His large hands against your body made you feel things that you just should not for your personal trainer. You wanted so desperately for his hands to travel lower, yanking away at your clothes and to finally touch you in the most intimate of places.
Finally, you cleared your throat before adjusting yourself in his strong hold before uttering a meek, “Like this?”
His hands moved just the slightest at the new position you were in. Grinning in approval, so proud of how you were doing.
“Yeah, just like that. Hold it right there.” He coaxed, his thumbs now tracing gentle circles against your clothes, earning yet another one of the cute noises from you that you prayed he didn't hear.
While you were down below trying your best to keep any other sounds from slipping out he was taking full advantage of the view. His wandering gaze getting an eyeful of the way your leggings wrapped around the plump shape of your ass and thighs. He nearly groaned at the sight, but  suppressed the urge as he didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable. But you were just so tempting.
Matt chose the worst day possible to wear grey sweatpants. He looked away for a bit, taking in a deep breath to compose himself. Filling his mind with gross images to keep lewd thoughts of you out— because he knew the longer he'd stare he'd definitely wouldn't be able to hide his erection around you.
Once he felt confident enough to keep his burning desires in the back of his mind, his eyes dropped back down to your figure.
However, that's when he made a pleasant discovery. A sly grin pulling at his lips when he noticed the slightest imprint your panties made against your leggings— he was convinced you were trying to kill him.
Only to take a closer look and realize that you weren’t wearing just any regular pair, but a skimpy thong instead. The sudden realization of knowing that you were wearing a thong right now had a cluster of inappropriate thoughts running through his head, clouding his better judgment.
You weren't a woman that he should flirt with. And you were definitely not a woman he should have sex with. You were one of his regular clients and it was going to be a real struggle for him to fight back this temptation to keep everything strictly professional between you two.
“You think you can keep it up a little longer?” Matt asked, his sweet words rolling off his tongue like silk.
“Yeah.” Is all you could muster up, trying not to break your concentration with his suggestive words, only for it be obliterated by what he decided to say next.
“Good girl, you're doing so well.” He coaxed, holding onto you for a little bit before finally retracting his hands, the warmth of them suddenly disappearing.
He continued feeding you with heartwarming praises that made you wonder if he knew the impact his words had over you.
It felt like ages had passed before he finally approved of your time, letting you rest up on your knees. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath, making your breasts protrude out slightly, threatening to spill out of your bra with each deep inhale you took.
You could see him struggling to keep his eyes on yours as he spoke to you, causing a flushed smile to spread on your face.
“What did you want to focus on today?” He began to ask, desperate to cut through the growing sexual tension in the room. “Arms or legs?”
“Uhh.. legs mostly.” You reply, your voice still a bit shaky as your shifted your weight on your heels. You shot him another smile, feeling brave enough to add a hint of flirtation in your tone, “But I wanna switch it up and do arms first today.”
“Yeah, we can totally do that.” He replies, standing up. He holds out his hand for you to grab onto, your fingers slid into his palm as he pulled you up from the floor. He guided you over to one of the machinery, “We can start off with pull-ups.”
*ೃ༄
The soles of your sneakers sank down into the plush mat on the ground as you take in another deep breath, trying your best to regain focus on the task at hand.
The pull-ups themselves wasn’t the issue. The only dilemma you could think of was that Matt’s hands would have to be on your waist. But even so, was that truly an issue?
“Ready?” Matt asked, his hands hovering just over your hipbones, waiting for your approval to touch.
“Yes.” You reply, peering over your shoulder to face him. Only to quickly avert your eyes when you accidentally looked at him for a bit too long.
Another convincing smile spread on his face, loving how flustered you’d get when the two of you made eye contact. He thought it was just the cutest thing and even more so knowing that you’d say otherwise.
Your breath hitched in your throat as his warm palms pressed onto your waist, his fingers gently wrapping around your figure as he lifted you up with ease.
“We can just do five for today, okay?” He huffed out, remaining exceptionally calm considering that your ass was pressing right against his chest.
“Okay.” You muttered in embarrassment. Your clammy hands wrapped around the steel pole. The muscles in your biceps flexing at the slightest as Matt assisted you with each pull-up.
Your cheeks flushed with that same rosy hue as before when he continued praising you. Each sugar-coated word sent butterflies right to your stomach and down to your core, making you subconsciously squirm in his hands. Which only encouraged him to say even more sweet things to you.
“Just one more, okay? Doing so good.” Matt groaned against you, lifting you up one last time before gently bringing back down on your feet.
You spun around on your heels, a smile on your face as small beads of sweat started to form at your forehead.
“I told you I was getting better.” You reply with a cocky tone, your hands rested at your hips.
“Yeah, well that’s because you’ve got the best trainer.” He joked, crossing his arms just below his chest.
“I already knew that.” You laugh.
“Mhm, I bet you did.” He replied, licking his lips before bringing them up into a smirk. “Wanna test those legs out too?”
“What? More squats?” You complain, those were the bulk of your sessions and you quickly grew tired of them. There had to be some other way to build muscle in your legs.
“I mean that is the best way for you, but if you want to try something new, I’m down.” He shrugged, looking around at the machinery.
His eyes locked on one of the leg press machines against the wall before bringing his gaze back to you. A perplexed expression written all over your poor face which only made him chuckle.
“Wanna give it a go?” He asked, pointing over at it.
“I can try.” You reply, walking over towards the leg press, Matt following close behind you.
Your fingertips grazed over the material of the equipment, your heart pounding in your chest— terrified of making a fool of yourself in front of Matt.
“Maybe you should get on first.” You say turning around to face him, giving him the most convincing smile.
“Why is that?” He asked, tilting his head to the side, his hands now buried in his pockets.
“So I can see how it’s properly done.” You reply, taking a step closer towards him. “You are the best trainer after all.”
The last words rolled right off your tongue with ease, now suddenly flipping the whole praising charade on him— which turned him on far more than he’d like to admit.
A slight red tint flushed over his cheeks, dropping his head down to hide that bashful smile of his.
“Leg presses aren’t really my thing.” He replied shortly after, bringing his flustered face back up, his eyes piercing right through yours. A stare so obviously filled with desire, it nearly made your knees go weak.
“Then what is your thing?” You ask.
“You’re gonna laugh.” Matt replied, trying to contain his own laughter.
“I swear I won’t.” You reply, an undeniable smile spreading on your face. “Just tell me.”
“Promise?” He asked.
“Promise.” You reply.
“Come here.” He replied, nodding his head over as he guided towards the dumbbells. Another black, memory foam mat spread across the cool gym floor, the plush material squishing beneath your sneakers.
His back faced you as he pointed down at the rack of assorted dumbbells, the order going from lightest to heaviest. He mumbled a few syllables under his breath that you couldn’t quite make out.
“What was that?” You teased, coming up closer to him to stand next to his side.
“Dumbbell hip thrusts are more my thing.” He replied, watching his words quickly contort your face into a flustered mess.
Before you could give him a proper response, his feet were already dragging against the floor. Your stomach flipped as he grabbed onto the heaviest weight— lifting it up from the rack as if it were a feather.
You anxiously fiddled around with your fingers, your clammy hand trembling within the other as you watched Matt place the weight on his lap. His shaggy strands of hair falling right over his forehead, peering up at you every now and then through his dark lashes. A smug grin plastered across his face— he knew exactly what he was doing.
His large palms wrapped around the rough, black material of the dumbbell. His entire hand covering up the ‘80’ that was imprinted on each side.
A few undeniable groans slipped out from him as he began the exercise, his teeth grinding against one another and his cheeks slowly filled up with a light red tint. His biceps flexed at the slightest but the main attraction was his groin— the way he gradually thrusted his pelvis up towards the ceiling had your heart fluttering in your chest.
Suddenly the air felt too thick to properly draw in, your lungs felt like they were ready to collapse at any moment.
All you could do was focus on the way Matt’s hips moved up and down in such a taunting manner.
A suggestive and lewd manner.
He moved in a way that had you subconsciously wishing that you were the one sitting on his lap instead— that he was thrusting up into you.
The tension in the room only continued to build up around you, consuming your thoughts and causing your body to react in a way that you know you shouldn’t. But you the temptation only grew stronger by the second.
You opened your mouth to speak, but thankfully you were cut off my his words.
“Is that enough proof for ya?” Matt asked, the same smirk still on his face as he finally gave his lower half a rest.
You watched as his fingers wrapped around the silver bar of the dumbbell, swinging it off his lap and gently placed it down by his side. The weights sinking down into the soft mat.
Tiny beads of sweat formed at his hairline as he looked up at you. His fingers combing through his hair as he waited for your answer.
“No.” You hum in a melodic tone, earning a chuckle from him.
“Well, I don’t know what else to do.” He playfully shrugged, “I don’t have anything else to lift.”
Feeling brave, you decided to finally put yourself out there. After today, it would be more painful if you hadn’t tried to make a move in a situation like this. Besides, what was the worst that he could say?
“I bet you can’t lift me.” You teased.
“Are you joking?” His smile growing from ear to ear, “I most definitely can.”
“I don’t know, Matt…” You reply. “You seemed to be struggling with that dumbbell just now.”
“I know you’re bullshitting, now.” He huffed out.
You knew what you were doing with your choice of words, knowing that he wasn’t the type of man to back down from a challenge.
Obviously, you and Matt both knew he had this in the bag. The real challenge, however, was keeping that strict wall of professionalism still in tact.
“Get your ass over here.” His words tumbling out as he pat his hand on his lap, beckoning you over to come sit. To which you gladly comply.
Your shoes squished into the memory foam down below, swinging one of your legs over him. Your dainty fingers pressed down into his shoulders for support as you slowly lowered yourself to straddle him.
A breathy laugh fell out from him once you finally took your seat, your core resting dangerously close towards his member.
So much for professionalism.
“Sorry.” You say, shooting him an awkward smile.
Your hips rocked against him, trying to get in a comfortable seating. It took every fiber in Matt’s being to not give into the primal-like urges that had been festering up inside him the moment you walked through those doors.
You, on the other hand, were painfully oblivious of the fact. Each slow and sensual movement of your hips had him mesmerized. He knew he should hold his tongue and knew even better to not touch you in this setting.
He opened his mouth to speak, giving a weak attempt to tell you that this probably wasn’t the brightest idea and maybe you should get off. But he was suddenly cut off to release a low and suggestive grunt.
You nearly whimpered when you felt his strong hands shooting up to grip your hips, locking you down in place to prevent you from brushing up against his dick again.
You looked up at him with pleading doe-like eyes. A stare so innocent yet so seductive, you looked so fuckable on his lap like this— and he just simply could not contain the desire he had for you any longer.
His gaze flickered down to your sleek figure, tracing hypnotic circles into your hips with his thumbs. You swallowed thickly when his eyes pierced back up into your own, anxiously anticipating what he was going to say or do next.
“Can I…” Matt mumbled out before clearing his throat. “Can I kiss you?”
You feverishly nodded in response, afraid of how needy you’d sound if you had used your voice instead. He hesitated at first, analyzing every minor change in your expression. He wanted to be completely sure that you wanted, no needed, this as much as he did.
Your desirous eyes were a dead give away, confirming that the attraction was mutual. Finally, he pressed his lips on yours— being sure to remain at a soft and slow pace to test the waters. It felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders now that the sexual tension had finally been severed.
His lips curled up into a pleaser smile as he pulled your body in closer to his own. Your arms draped around his neck, deepening the kiss as you tilted your head to the side. His nostrils flared against you as he took in a deep inhale, not wanting to pull away from your lips.
Suddenly the kiss morphed into something much more heated and passionate. His lips weren’t on you in a “one-night-stand” kind of way. No, he kissed you like he had nothing else to lose; like you were the only thing that mattered. All that underlying attraction he kept tucked away from you had finally been set free and he made sure to show that with his actions. He had been yearning for you.
Both of his hands slithered past your hips, grabbing a handful of your ass. Shamelessly pulling you back and forth so that you could feel how hard he was for you.
You pulled away from the kiss in attempt to catch your breath, only to be cut off by a sharp gasp when Matt began peppering wet kisses along your neck and collarbone. Your teeth tugged at your bottom lip, a trail of soft whimpers spewing out from you as he continued. All while his fingertips traveled up around your waist to toy with the waistband of your leggings.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” Matt slurred out, finally pulling away from your throat. “Can I take these off?”
“Yes.” You whispered.
His fingers looped inside your bottoms, quickly pulling away at the fabric and discarding it onto the floor next to both of you. He groans at the sight of the black strings of your thong pinching into the plush curves of your hips.
Two strong arms wrapped around your waist, swiftly flipping the two of you over so that Matt was on top of you now. Your thighs naturally parted, allowing for his hips to rest in between them.
He taunts you with more kisses, this time being more like petty pecks against your lips. You whined against him, your fingers tugging at the hem of his tank.
Luckily he caught the hint, laughing a bit to himself before raising up. He threw his shirt down to join your leggings, his hair now a bit disheveled and his silver chain dangling around his throat as he lowered himself back down.
The warmth of his hands sent butterflies in your stomach, slowly inching them up your ribcage to finally take off your bra. He slid the small piece of clothing over your head and tossed it away, giving you more kisses against your throat.
You shuddered, feeling his breath fanning against your hot skin. His large hands scooping up both of your tits, fondling them ever so softly. You whimpered, wrapping your shaky fingers around his wrists.
“Doing okay?” Matt asked sweetly, locking his eyes with yours.
“Mhm.” You hum, your brows knitted together and cheeks all flushed out.
“Good.” He smirked, his eyes flickering down. Slowly running his hands along your figure. “You’re so pretty, baby. Gonna let me me see more? Let me make you feel good?”
“Yes..” You whined with a nod, the tip of his nose grazing against yours. Your lips parted slightly when you felt the pads of his fingers on your clit, giving you a teasing stroke through your panties.
“Yeah? Bet you’ll be so good for me, hm?” He hummed, that conniving smirk never leaving his face. You squirmed under his touch, all you could do was give him another nod in agreement.
Your eyes darted down, watching him stretch the material of your thong. Slowly pulling the fabric over to the side.
“Hold this for me?” He coaxed, keeping a hold on the clothing before your fingers took his place.
Your lips pouted out sheepishly, your eyes never leaving the movements he made with his hands. One of them holding on the back your knee, slowly parting your legs further apart.
You let out a shaky breath, your fingers trembling as they struggled to maintain a strong grip on your panties.
“You’ve been wanting this too, huh?” He cooed, his fingers moving away from your clit and traveling down to your entrance. Being sure to lather them up with your arousal before slipping them inside.
“Fuck.” You gasped, feeling both of them push inside you. You tried to shy away from his eyes but he only forced your focus back on him, smashing his lips back into yours.
He picked up the speed of his fingers, expertly curling them up to find that sweet spot of yours. Your legs trembled in his hold and around his hips, now struggling to kiss him back.
The squelching of your arousal was an alluring symphony to his ears. Being sure to savor every moment he could with your sweet, velvety walls hugging around him so nice.
A devious chuckle slipped out from him when he realized his fingers were the cause of you struggling to kiss him back. You whined out in frustration when you felt him slowly dragging them out.
“C’mon, don’t pout.” He tsked, grabbing ahold of your hips, slowly gesturing you to flip over. “Turn around for me, baby.”
You huff out a shaky sigh as you slowly turned around. Your knees now sinking down into the memory foam below and your elbows resting on one of the dark, firm gym blocks Matt had scattered around the place.
You nestled your flustered face in between your arms, a rush of excitement washed over you as you heard Matt’s clothes rustle behind you. He tugged at the drawstring around his waist, finally freeing his dick from his stuffy clothes.
Goosebumps coated your skin once you felt the soft touch of Matt’s hand against you. Pulling at the string of your panties, making sure they were far back enough for him to fit. You shuddered underneath him, shyly anticipating his next move.
His free hand wrapped around the base of his cock, fighting the urge to pump himself dry.
“So pretty and wet for me, baby..” He spoke in nearly a whisper, dragging his tip along your slick folds. A pinkish tint decorating his cheeks as he continued, “Gonna let me fill you up, yeah?”
Your teeth tugged back on your bottom lip, furrowing your brows together as he gently pushed himself inside you. Your eyes fluttered closed as he bottomed out.
“Matt.. oh fuck..” You whined, already feeling his tip brushing up against that same spot as before.
Both of his hands were now hugging around your waist, watching himself pull out only to slam right back into you. You sweet cries filling up his ears and the way your ass bounced with each thrust only encouraged him to give you more. Curious to find out how many other sounds he could pull out of you.
He continued rocking his pelvis into you, being sure to keep that sweet, slow pace as before. But you made it incredibly difficult for him to do so, he wondered if you had been doing it on purpose.
The way your pussy sucked him back in each time he’d pull out made him want to pin you to the floor and show who truly had the upper hand.
“Shit.” He cursed, the grip around your hips tightening.
His necklace dangled over your back as he hovered over you. Pressing sloppy kisses down your spine, causing you to shiver.
“You feel so fucking good.” He groaned against you, slowly pumping himself further inside. He continued pouring more sweet nothings in your ear, leaving you putty in his hands.
His hands slid from your waist up to your chest, grabbing ahold of your bouncing tits. His lips now aligned with your ear, his breath fanning against you as he whispered.
“That’s my sweet girl, taking me so well.” He began, one of his hands snaking it’s way down to your stomach. You cried out once he pressed his hand against you, loving the way he could feel his dick protruding through you.
“You feel that, baby?” He huffed out, you could hear the smile in his voice. “Feel how deep I am?”
“Matty.. I- I’m gonna..” You moaned, dropping your head towards your chest. Your body moving in uncontrollable waves in his hands as you quickly approached your orgasm.
“Come on, cum for me.” Matt groaned, feeling his own high creeping up on him. “I know you can. Want it all over my dick, baby, come on.”
His words alone were enough to send you over the edge. You let out a broken whimper as you released over him, his thrusts letting up slightly as he continued fucking you through your orgasm.
You whined from the newfound sensitivity, not knowing how much more you could take. Luckily, he wasn’t too far behind you.
He pulled out of you with a groan, his hand going straight to his dick. Sliding his hand along his throbbing length until thick, warm stripes of white coated your back.
A spew of curses slipped out from before he hovered back down to press a few kisses into your flushed cheeks. You whined, turning your face towards him to press your lips against his.
“I’ll grab a towel, okay?” He whispered. “You did so good, like always.”
📃 — taglist!
@bluesturniolo333 , @hoesformatt , @mattgirly , @stellarsturns , @mattsturniolosgf333 , @mrssturnioloo , @sturniozo , @littlebookworm803 , @only4mattyb , @breeloveschris , @liz-stxrn , @strawberrysturniolo , @mangoposts , @enyaslover , @1horrormoviewhore1 , @whatever1021 , @mattslolita , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniolopowers , @hercigaretteblush , @lovingmattysposts , @stardustmf444 , @lovesturns , @gigisworldsstuff , @crispylouis28 , @that-general-simp , @lustfulslxt , @ifilwtmfc , @chrislapdog , @sstvrnioloo , @angelic-sturniolos111 , @sturniolosreads , @gamermattsgf , @luvmxtt , @kayannettesposts , @sophssturn , @isabellehoran , @sturnfix , @luvmila444 , @luhsexcbihh , @kvtie444 , @rootbeerworshiper
©️ LUV4KOZUME 🦢
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2K notes · View notes
nariism · 7 months
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ೃ⁀➷ THIEF! ★
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Based off this ask by @raphuna-nekomada !!
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The first time, Neuvillette brushed it off as if nothing had happened.
He spent the entire morning looking for his dedicated Monday bow, black with silver intricacies that you personally picked out for him many years ago.
"Must be a sign from the universe not to go into work," you hummed from the bed, rolling over and inviting him back under the blanket. He hadn't indulged you on Monday, instead opting to use his Tuesday ribbon and huffing about how he would find the missing article later.
The second time it happened, he was suspicious.
Two days in a row his ribbon had gone missing, now his Wednesday ribbon had been used for Tuesday. It irked him, and while he had no other reason to suspect that you were the culprit, the way you beckoned him back to bed again flicked a switch in his mind.
Ultimately, he hadn't indulged you on Tuesday either.
The third time it happens, he saunters up to your side of the bed immediately.
"My love," he calls, and for a moment you think he hasn't caught you because he's lacking any sort of stern tone— the kind he would address Wriothesley with.
"Yes?" You peer up at him with a glimmer of mischief, clutching something to your chest. His eyes narrow and he kneels onto the bed beside you.
"Have you seen my ribbon?"
"I haven't."
"Are you sure? I'm certain I left it on the dresser last night."
"You must be imagining things, dearest."
You give him a sly, lazy smile and that's when he knows you're nothing but a terrible liar. He nearly scoffs in your face, leaning down closer so he can look at you with a hardening expression.
"And what exactly is your ploy here? Would you like me to wrestle it out of your hands?"
Your eyes widen in surprise for a moment before you laugh, clearly finding his suggestion humorous. "Would it keep you at home longer if you did?"
The gears turn in his head at your words, slow realization washing over him as you blink up innocently. (Feigning innocence, actually. Poorly.)
Ah, so that's what this is all about.
"You want me to stay home?"
A beat of silence. "And if I said yes?"
"You know my answer." Yet he hasn't pulled away, gotten off the bed, and left for work like he does every morning. In fact, you're pretty sure he's drawn a couple inches closer to you.
The fabric you stole from him suddenly wraps around the back of the neck and you rein him in until he's hovering just above you, arms and legs caging you in on either side.
"Got you," you sing quietly.
His gaze flickers down to your lips and then back to your eyes. "You got me," he repeats in faux defeat, swooping down to capture you in a kiss.
He starts to think that maybe a day off wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, but he has more than one trial today and there is no one to fill his role in his absence.
Still, Neuvillette decides that he can come to a compromise if only to hold you like this before his busy day. Besides, if he didn't indulge you now this would never end.
"Ten more minutes."
"Ouch. Stingy."
He smothers you under his body so you'll stop talking.
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© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
3K notes · View notes
aaagustd · 2 months
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for the night | min yoongi
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title: for the night
pairing: drug lord!min yoongi x waitress!(f)reader
genre/rating: angst, childhood best friends to strangers to friends??, unrequited love, valentine’s day au, smut, romance, 18+
summary: Yoongi lives a dangerous life. So why is he so afraid of you? 
warnings: idk what to say about these two, just a bunch of feelings (spoken & unspoken), light pining, pov switches,  mentions d*ath & grieving,  mentions dr*gs and violence, swearing, bl**d & injuries, p*stol wh*pping/ mild description of t*rture, crooked justice systems (it’s the wild wild west out there), mentions a robbery & a**ault (nothing involving the main story), mentions illnesses & health related topics, alcohol/drinking but no intoxication unless you count staring at yoongi for too long, black hair with the undercut yoongi, chains, rings, TATTOOS…. oh my !!!, yoongi has a gl*ck (a piece, that iron… whatever you wanna call it), everybody’s shipping these two but they’re just…yeah, eye f*cking from both parties, explicit content, the friend version of kiss & makeup??, dry h*mping, Dom!yoongi, yoongi getting head is a warning, protected s*x, gagging/deep throating, throat/face f*cking, hair pulling, crying, i’m sure yoongi has Sir kink hiding in there somewhere, manhandling, face slapping, yoongi’s fingers down your throat, missionary with your leg over yoongi’s shoulder, big d*ck!yoongi, his jewelry stays on bc why would it not?, cl*t stimulation, teasing, spitting, org*sm control, c*m shots, body worship, p*ssy eating, throat grabbing, i think that's all...
wc: 11.6k
release date: february 16, 2024; 10:15pm est
note: sorry i took forever. this is my first oneshot in a while so i apologize for mistakes. i'm just finding my footing in this writing thing again. thanks to @itaeewon for my banner and @cafekitsune who makes these pretty dividers. please follow both of them for cool graphics. anyway, happy late valentine's day. i love you guys.
masterlist | playlist | ao3 version
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“Enjoy the rest of your night… and be safe!”
As you wave goodbye to the last lovely couple dining at your restaurant tonight, you express how thrilled you are of their return. 
You stand in front of your father’s little restaurant and watch the lovebirds bundle up as they make their way to their vehicle, embracing each other and protecting themselves from the same frigid temperatures that threatened to ruin their Valentine’s day plans.
It’s nights like these that make the sacrifice of putting your nursing career on hold well worth it. This neighborhood doesn’t have a lot to offer as far as entertainment goes, so keeping this place in business is your top priority. This is your home, and the people you love put their all into this establishment. 
You’ll make sure it thrives and continues to be a source of comfort to the community.
You’re excited to tell your father about tonight’s turn out. You know he will be pleased. It’s been busy all day with dine-ins and take outs; everyone looking for the perfect date night meal. 
“The food is made with love,” is what your dad always says.
He always looks forward to this time of year, and he’s always talked about seeing you sitting in one of his booths with a special someone of your own some day. 
You only nod when he brings up your dating life; sometimes his love for you blinds him from reality. You’ve never brought anyone home, or ever mentioned being involved with someone to him. Even if you came out and said it, he’d never believe you’re the problem.
A chilly breeze in the mid-February air snaps you out of your thoughts—so as soon as the couple’s sedan departs from the parking lot—you slip back inside. 
The warmth instantly envelopes your trembling figure, and draws a small exhale from your lips.
Looking at your watch, you notice that it’s almost midnight. You switch the sign from open to close, but don’t bother locking the door because there’s one more visitor that should be arriving shortly.
You keep that in mind as you begin to clean the front of the house. 
One by one, your father’s employees complete their duties in a haste, then clock out so they can go home to whoever is waiting for them. Their eagerness only brings a smile to your face.
As you’re sanitizing a table, you catch a glimpse of one of the waitresses dashing towards the door.
“Well, see you tomorrow, Kaci!”
She halts, then turns around to say her goodbyes—and to gossip. 
“Night, boss lady,” she chirps.
Why she calls you “boss lady” is a mystery to you; your dad only left you in charge, but you’re just a manager. You still get on the floor and serve tables like everyone else.
You’re curious about the bit of mischief hidden in her tone. It’s not long before she reveals her true intentions.
“Did he stop by yet?”
And of course…she’s talking about Yoongi.
Usually, someone stops by on his behalf to collect the rent. His family allows your father and a few others to occupy the buildings on this lot for business. Payment is always to be paid in cash, so you make sure you visit the bank the morning of collections. 
Your family has had a close relationship with the Mins for years, so they’ve been working with you while your father recovers.
You met Yoongi right in this restaurant at the young age of four, and from there, your friendship blossomed. You were inseparable throughout grade school, but senior year is when everything shifted.
It had to be the first time you both realized that you were on different paths after graduation. While you prepped for college, he was being introduced to the hustle that built his family’s empire.
If that didn’t tear a rift in your relationship, the underlying tension and unspoken feelings surely did. People used to always say at least one of you would eventually want something different, and you used to always laugh at them…until it became a fact.
You’ve always wondered if he ever felt the same as you did—or if he ever thought about exploring something more.
Unfortunately, you’ll never know what he was feeling. After graduation, he shut you out and never looked back. That was so long ago, though. You’ve grown, and the pain of losing someone you cared about eventually went away.
…So you thought.
Being home again brings back so many memories and forgotten feelings. Things you wish you still had, and things you wish you could have had. After experiencing so much throughout college, and learning more about yourself, you’d kill to go back in time so you can handle things differently. 
You can’t help but think your friendship was torn apart by nothing more than a curious mind and raging hormones.
Yoongi’s so different now, though. However, you still see glimpses of the boy who would sneak into your window just to watch reruns of 90s cartoons with you. You smile just thinking about all the fun times you’ve shared, and all the trouble you got into.
“Look at you getting wet just thinking about him! I knew it. You’re whipped!”
“Can you keep your damn voice down,” you hiss. “Last thing I need is gossip right now.”
You’re so fed up with her teasing. If you two hadn’t just clicked when you took over the restaurant, you’d probably just kick her ass out in the cold.
“And, no. He has not. So, you can leave now, ma’am.”
“Oh, for sure,” she sighs dramatically. “Hell only knows what you two do when you are alone.”
Your jaw drops. 
Sometimes this bond you share is a blessing; but other times, it’s a curse.
Kaci’s a sweetheart, but her mouth… Well, let’s just say these comments are normal for her. 
And just like your father, she loves to play Cupid. No wonder he hired her.
“Just get your ass out of here.”
You can barely keep your laugh from bursting through your lips as you send a rag flying towards her. She dodges it, then proceeds to give you a middle finger. She has another shady comment ready to roll off the tip of her tongue, but then she glances out of the glass door and smirks instead. 
You scoff. “Bitch, what is it now?”
Kaci then shakes her head. 
“Nothing, babe. I’m out,” she winks. Kaci then points towards the parking lot and whispers, “Daddy’s here.”
“Huh? What are you talking about—”
Crawling into one of the booths, you partially open the blinds with your fingers and peek out of the window.
About seven sets of headlights stare back at you, all belonging to vehicles that are as dark as the midnight hour. A BMW sits in the center, blacked out with tinted windows and black custom rims. However, you don’t need a look inside to know who it is. No one else would pull up like they own the lot.
All the businesses are closed, which means these aren’t customers. It’s the boss.
Your heart rate builds up when the door opens and his sneakers touch the concrete. He stands there for a moment fixing his jacket and discreetly observing his surroundings. 
Your eyes follow his movements. You can only hear the bass from his music and the noises coming from your throat as you try to gulp down the saliva building up in your mouth. 
All you needed to see was the top of his head to confirm what you already knew. 
Yoongi’s here, and he’s the one coming to collect payment tonight.
You don’t know why your heart is about to pound out of your chest like you’re hexed by some teenage crush. Maybe you are still hung up on him a little bit. You can’t deny how attractive he still is. He definitely wears age well.
The dark hair suits him perfectly. You can remember the horror stories about the color experiments gone wrong when you were teenagers. It’s a surprise that it’s still luscious and healthy as it is.
However, that isn’t the only thing that has changed in his appearance.
They’re hard to spot under his jacket, but his torso, back, and arms are covered in tattoos. You only know about this because another waitress working here loves to share the story of how she was on her knees in a bathroom giving a shirtless Yoongi a blowjob. 
You would never admit jealousy, but damn; that lucky bitch.
Yoongi starts to make his way across the parking lot, pushing back his hair with his ringed-fingers to grant better vision out of his peripherals. You know he’s always watching his back; he can never be too careful when he’s making moves.
His haircut allows you to get a glimpse of the ink crawling up his neck, disappearing behind his ear. His earring dangles in the wind as he strides in your direction.
Each step is confident and dominant;  his aura dark and mysterious. 
A man who is about his business, it’s no shock that heads turn when he steps into the room. He’s reserved, but not afraid to enforce his authority when he deems necessary. You heard stories, and crossing Yoongi is considered a death wish. 
He’s like the hot badass described in movies or books, but he actually is that guy. Handsome, street-wise, tattoos and scars; paired with money, jewelry, and you’d be stupid to think he isn’t packing. 
You can smell the power and Dior emitting from his body all the way from where you are. 
Each step he takes towards the entrance of the restaurant gives you a better view without being noticed. It’s a sin how good he looks and he’s just wearing a simple outfit with some sneakers. You have no business feeling these kinds of things, but it’s impossible to not.
“Can he just bend us over already?”
You hear Kaci whisper the same words you were just thinking. But she can’t know that, so you swat her again for good measure.
“Fine…I’m leaving,” she whines, walking to the door.
You back out of the booth and move over to the host stand so you can roll silverware and act like you weren’t watching him.
Kaci opens the door just as he’s about to reach for the handle, and of course, she gives him a warm welcome.
“Hi, Yoongi,” she beams. You roll your eyes the second you hear that annoying high-pitched voice she uses when she’s being coy.
“Hey, can you hang back for a bit? It won’t be long.”
“Yeah, sure. Everything okay?”
The look he gives her sends your radar up, so you set down the utensils in your hand and join them in the lobby.
“Hey,” you greet him when he notices you. “What’s going on?”
Yoongi sighs before he answers, shaking his head as he gathers his words.
“You know the alterations shop over there?” 
His head nods in the direction of the Leonard’s shop a few stores down. Both of you nod because they take lunch breaks here everyday.
“Somebody hit them up about an hour ago. Left their daughter in bad shape before they stripped the registers,” he informs.
“Are you serious? That’s awful.”
“Yeah, they’re good people. Who would do something that disgusting?” Kaci asks.
Yoongi only shrugs. “Don’t know, but as soon as I find out…”
He doesn’t even need to continue. It’ll be bad; probably worse than you can imagine. One thing the Min’s don’t tolerate is disrespect. You mess with one of their people, you get handled. In this case, you can’t even feel bad for the bastard. That family doesn’t bother anyone. It’s a shame they were targeted.
“Anyway, I don’t want either of you lingering around here at night anymore. Stick together during opening and closing until we catch this motherfucker understand?”
“Yeah, got it,” you reply, and Kaci also agrees.
“Sure, not a problem.”
With everyone on the same page, you make a note in your mind to update the security system in the restaurant and think of some safety tips for employees. No one can ever be too careful, especially after what just occurred so close to home.
“And Kaci?” he calls, just as she’s getting ready to depart. 
“Yeah?”
“Don’t walk home. Your pepper spray is expired. Ask one of the guys to drive you.”
“Is Hoseok out there?” 
You and Yoongi share a look. He’s probably wondering what it’s about, but then again, who doesn’t know they’re fucking?
“Yeah…he is—”
“Kay, bye!”
Before the door slams in your face, you call out to her. 
“Text me when you’re home!... Or when you’re able to use your hands.”
Yoongi chuckles as the both of you watch her dash across the lot. You aren’t sure how she’s able to spot the right SUV, but she does within seconds.
“This has been going on for a while, huh?” Yoongi inquires.
“Mhm. Fight, fuck, repeat.”
After a moment goes by, you realize you forgot to bring the money you owe Yoongi. You snap your fingers when you remember why he’s there in the first place.
“Oh, yeah. Come on, it’s back here,” you tell him.
Yoongi follows you toward the back of the restaurant until you reach the small manager’s office tucked in a corner of the kitchen. While you dig in your apron for the key, Yoongi checks in with you to see how everything’s going.
“How’s your dad?”
You pause to look at him and answer with a proud smile. Your father’s been working really hard on his road to recovery; it’s nice to talk about his accomplishments without someone looking at you with pity, which Yoongi never does.
“He’s been doing better. Lots of physical therapy, but he walked on his own yesterday.”
With a nod, Yoongi’s expression softens.  “That’s the shit I like to hear.”
“Me too.”
Once you find the keys, you unlock the door and the both of you step inside the dark room.
“Thanks,” you whisper when he flips the lightswitch for you. 
You can feel him watching you as you walk around the desk, and when you squat down to open the safe underneath, you hear his footsteps approaching. 
You start entering the combination while he whistles and looks around your office. 
You’re curious about what he’s looking at, but right now you can't even take a peek without him noticing. Instead, you focus on gathering the cash you owe him for last month and this month while he’s busy snooping around.
After a while, you figure he’s found something interesting because the room becomes quiet. You grab the stack you set aside and close the safe, making sure it’s locked before you do anything else.
“So how was your day?”
Yoongi’s deep voice tears a giant rift in the silence, startling you and causing you to bump your head on the edge of the desk. Thankfully, his back is turned and he didn’t hear the small thud because you’d be beyond embarrassed.
“It was okay,” you reply as you regain your footing. 
Yoongi turns in your direction when he hears your words become clearer, indicating you’re no longer digging around in the safe. He meets you halfway and you extend your hand with the stack of money resting between your fingers. 
“This is all of it.”
Yoongi looks at the stack before he responds. Most of the time, it’s so hard to know what he’s thinking because his expression is always so stoic.
“Just okay?” he quizzes. 
“Yeah, pretty much. It was busy so I was stuck in autopilot most of the day.”
He still hasn’t made a move to accept the money. You feel kind of awkward being so close to him as is, and his lack of response makes you feel even more anxious. 
Finally, he speaks. “Do you even have this to give me?”
“Yeah, we’re good. Please, take it.”
You gesture for him to take the money, and he reaches for it, making you believe he’s going to grab it.
“It’s all here. If you want me to count it, I—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he insists.
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said,” he shrugs.
“Yoongi, no. We haven’t paid in a month. My dad would already be mad at me for being behind.”
“Does he have to know?” The look Yoongi gives you reminds you of all the times he’s talked you into doing something wild. He’d always take the blame if you got caught, but the thrill always made getting grounded irrelevant to you. “Keep it. We’re good until he gets back, okay?”
“Yoongi, I can’t.”
“You can’t?”
“I won’t,” you declare confidently.
“So you’re arguing with me?”
Your eyes widen, realizing that he wasn’t giving you an option.
“I-I’m sorry. I was just—”
“Don’t worry about it, alright? Just keep doing what you’re doing. I only hear good things about this place,” he concludes.
“Okay, ok. Thanks, Yoongi.”
“Don’t mention it.”
As you’re returning the money to the safe, Yoongi brings something to your attention.
“I don’t see your car outside.”
“Ah, shit. It needed to be serviced. I was supposed to pick it up on my lunch, but I forgot.”
After visiting the bank this morning, you dropped your vehicle off at the dealership for maintenance, but the breakfast rush swarmed in as soon as you arrived at work. By the time you thought about picking it up, it was well after business hours.
“Um, do you mind—”
“Wanna ride?” Yoongi offers.
“Please.” Relieved, you exhale a needed sigh. “If it’s not an inconvenience.”
“Not at all, love.”
You quickly grab your purse and switch off the light in your office, ignoring that feeling you got from the little pet name. 
Yoongi leads the way this time. As you’re following him through the restaurant, you’re sure to double check everything before you leave. Even Yoongi turns to ask you if you’ve secured everything.
“Good?”
“Yeah, everything’s turned off and we’re locked up tight.”
“Cool.”
Walking into the dining area, you give everything a quick once-over before following Yoongi to the exit. Everything looks tidy and neat how you like it so you step out into the cold night with your chauffeur. 
He waits with you while you lock the front doors, looking around for any curious eyes. After you’ve finished turning the lock and key, you give the handle a tug to make sure it doesn’t open.
Growing up in this neighborhood will teach you a thing or two about being cautious and aware of your surroundings.
“It’s freezing tonight,” you comment.
Sometimes you like to make small talk with Yoongi, see where the conversation goes. Depending on the mood he’s in, he’ll either have one sentence responses or he’ll engage in light conversation.
You don’t mention the past much. It seems like pretending it never happened is easier for both of you. However, sometimes you have an impulse to bring up the subject, or at least try to mend what’s broken. 
If that’s possible.
“Cold? This is perfect weather.”
You roll your eyes. He’s definitely fucking with you.
“Oh, whatever. You know it’s freezing out here.”
You don’t care how ridiculous you look speeding towards his car. You’re shivering and Yoongi takes forever to unlock the door.
You shuffle from foot to foot, wiggling to build up some body heat. You can hear the fabric of your jeans rubbing together due to the friction.
“You know it’s already unlocked, right?”
Oh.
You climb inside and relief washes over you. The heat is blowing warm and strong, making the leather seats even more comfortable. The seat warmers keep your butt cozy, and the vents are aiming towards your upper body. It’s perfect; you could fall asleep right here.
When Yoongi gets in the driver seat, your head lolls in his direction.
“Thank you.”
“For?” he asks.
“Your car feels like heaven right now.”
Yoongi scoffs softly.
“It isn’t always this warm. Trust me,” he replies.
“Well regardless, thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Not a problem, love.”
Fuck.
Yoongi’s engine revs as he pulls out of the parking lot. A thought comes into your mind as the vibrations travel up your body.
“Does it ever make your balls tingle?”
He coughs, clearing his throat while checking to see if he heard right.
“Uh, what?”
“The car,” you elaborate. “When you’re driving it…You don’t feel anything?”
Honestly, you’re just chatting to keep yourself from falling asleep. You don’t even expect him to answer as you stare out of the window, watching the SUVs fade in the distance.
“I guess I never really thought about it,” he responds.
You nod, vibing to the music. He’s turned the volume down since you’ve joined him, so you can actually hear each other speak.
“Hm. Sure does make your pussy tingle.”
You don’t think he heard that part. It was barely a whisper. If he did, he chose to ignore it.
“You alright?”
“Yup,” you answer. “Just ready to unwind.”
“Any plans tonight?”
You sit up in your seat, and turn to him.
“You bet.”
Yoongi laughs. “Oh, yeah?”
“I have a date with my bed, and I’m gonna let my blanket top me.”
“Gotcha. So you’re locked down, huh?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Well, it sure sounds like it. I never see you having any fun.”
You give him a look. 
“Well, look who’s talking. Besides, you know I’m dealing with a lot right now.”
“Fair enough, but you’re still allowed to do something for yourself for a change. Some of us don’t have that privilege,” he replies.
“I think everyone has the privilege to do something for themselves. You just have to be selfish enough to go for it, I guess.”
“That is true.”
Yoongi then turns the music up a few notches. You already know what that means. He’s over conversation and wants to get lost in his thoughts. 
As you cruise through the streets, people may look on the surface and think this is some young bachelor taking his car for a late night drive—maybe heading to one of the city’s hot spots. 
But Yoongi is all work, and no play. If it’s not about moving product, it’s placed on the backburner.
You can relate, but tonight you’re switching it up. Self care is calling your name and you aren’t hanging up this time.
“What happened to the garden?”
You’re pulled from your thoughts by Yoongi’s voice. 
As he pulls up to the curve in front of your childhood home, he can’t stop himself from teasing you about your dying plants. You really tried your best with them, but unfortunately, you weren’t gifted with nurturing hands.
“You’re not funny,” you mutter, acting ignorant.
You know you’ve destroyed your dad’s flower bed, but he doesn’t have to make fun of you.
“I’m just saying, shouldn't you cover them?”
“I forgot!”
“You always do,” he mumbles.
You giggle as you’re opening the door; finally having a carefree conversation with your old friend again feels nice. As soon as you step out into the elements again, the winter air nips at your cheeks and you know you’ll be trembling by the time you get to your doorstep.
“Well, thanks for the ride.”
Yoongi just nods and tells you that he’d do it anytime you needed him to.
As you stand outside of the car, you start to get that feeling in your gut. That urge you know you shouldn’t have, but the temptation is stronger than ever.
Yoongi tilts his head, wondering why you’re standing in the cold. You’re frozen, silently debating on what you should do.
Ultimately, you go for it, knowing the risk you’re taking without being prepared for the aftermath. 
You’re even sure why you’re asking, or where you expect things to go. But tonight made you realize something. You miss having a best friend. 
Your best friend.
“Hey, it's late. You wanna come inside?... If you don’t have any plans.”
Regret washes over you as soon as the words leave your mouth. You weren’t ready, neither was he. You curse yourself for rushing it. The silence goes on for ages, but you’re so numb, the cold doesn’t faze you.
Finally, he gives you an answer. “You know I can’t do that.”
Well, now you know you’re the only one still holding on. By can’t, he means he won’t. 
Nodding, you lie and pretend that you understand where he’s coming from. “Yeah, I get it. Sorry about that.”
You were sure he’d be more open now that time has passed. However, you’re still stuck where you left off. He still won’t hear you out.
“There’s no need,” he assures. 
Still, you feel guilty. Selfish.
Foolish.
“Well look, I'll see you around, yeah?” He checks his phone and tosses it on the passenger seat. "I have to go deal with something."
“Okay, thanks again for the ride. Stay safe.”
You try not to look disappointed, but it’s probably no good. You’re sure he hears it in your voice. Or maybe you sound more tired than anything. You are exhausted. Maybe it’s your restless mind that's causing you to get ahead of yourself and open old wounds. It’s best you go inside before you can dig yourself a bigger hole. 
“You'll call me if you need me, right?”
If you need him… 
You always need him. He’s your rock. Well, probably not anymore. How do you learn to forget someone who’s always been there for you?
You swallow the bitterness coating your tongue before you reply. You’ll get over it. You always do. 
Just not right now.
“Yeah, I’ve tried that already. Goodnight, Yoongi.”
You shut his car door and retreat to the safety of your home. You’re unsure if he says it back or not. You walk away before he can respond. 
Everything in your sight becomes blurry as your vision is blocked by a wave of pending tears. You urgently open your front door in case he’s following you. 
A part of you wishes that he did. 
But the longer you stand there, back pressed against your front door, secluded from the same world you’ve just finished servicing—you realize that the chances of that happening are too slim to hold onto. 
Minutes go by, and you start calming down. You find your strength again, and you realize that your vulnerability made you panic. You got too comfortable, and that’s your fault. 
Tonight will just be another solo night; nothing you aren’t used to. 
You wipe your face and rid yourself of all the negative energy. Tomorrow you’ll be fine and the blow of rejection will start to fade away. Shaking your head, you clear your mind and start taking off your clothes.
You put it in your mind that you won’t hold this against Yoongi, and whenever he’s ready to talk—if ever—you’ll tell your side of the story if he wants to hear it.
Until then, you’ll just focus on you because he was right about one thing.
You should treat yourself; you deserve it.
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“Get your sorry ass up.”
Yoongi stares at his hand as he walks away from the battered man lying on the ground. His knuckles are bruised and covered in the thief’s blood. The sight would bring shame to his father. He shouldn’t be out here behaving like a street thug when he’s got power moves to make.
But when he found out there was danger lurking so close to you, he had to deliver the message himself. He’s sure it was heard loud and clear.
Possibilities played through his mind with every blow that rained down on the guy. What if it was your father’s restaurant that had been hit up? What if you had been inside?
He’s furious, enraged; but mostly at himself for how he keeps letting you down. You wanted to forgive him tonight, put everything that happened behind you and maybe try again. But what did he do?
He ruined it.
He always figured that he would, but it’s what you needed to hear. He’s not a good guy or some bad boy you can turn good. Yoongi’s in this too deep to be pulled out. There’s no way he could ever look your father in the eye and tell him that he’s put your life in danger. 
That’s why he refuses to address those feelings he has for you. He’d either end up breaking your heart, or getting you into a nasty situation.
If the wrong person were to know that he has a thing for you, you’d become a weapon for an opp to use against him. Yoongi’s respected by many, but there are some who want everything he has; you’d be added to the top of that list if they knew he’d died for you. 
He can’t lose what his family’s worked hard for, but he can’t lose you either. 
There’s only two options if that line’s ever crossed. Either you’re with him, and you’ll have to step into his world; or you’re not; and the streets deem you fair game. 
The latter infuriates him. He’d kill anyone who would ever think of laying a finger on you. That’s why he has to make examples out of motherfuckers like the one behind him.
“You need to find you something safe to do, my friend.”
Yoongi turns around just as the man rises to his feet, staggering and weak from the beating he’s received. One of his arms cradles his torso while the other wipes blood from his lips. He’d receive pity from anyone without the context, but if they knew what he did to that seamstress—they’d be wondering why he’s still alive.
This is far less than what this scum deserves. His apologies fall on deaf ears. Yoongi’s men don’t give a shit about his apology, and neither does he.
“I’m so sorry. I…I didn’t know this was your block too. I was just—”
Yoongi pulls out his glock and fires a shot near the guy’s foot, barely missing him. He doesn’t recall asking him to speak.
“You better assume every block is mine, motherfucker. I own this fucking city. Have you forgotten?”
“I—”
Another shot nearly blows his head off because once again, Yoongi never asked him to talk.
“Who told you to open your mouth?...” he seethes. “Speak again and I won’t miss.”
The man nods, lifting his shaky hands as a surrender. 
Yoongi’s jaw clenches as he contemplates his next move. A few minutes ago, he was set on ending him right in this spot, but after thinking about you he’s calmed down a lot. 
That’s the only reason this man’s life will be spared. His mind is somewhere else now; all he can think about is his own mistakes. This guy’s learned his lesson; no need to waste anymore of his time here.
“Look, don’t ever put me in this situation again. Am I clear?”
“Yes, Sir. I won’t. I promise.”
Yoongi knocks the guy out cold with his gun. He looks over at the officer who was escorting the guy to jail and gives him a nod, giving him the clear to take him in. 
“This was a citizen’s arrest,” he insists, handing the cop a wad of cash.
“You got that.”
He dismisses his men, and goes to have a cigarette while he thinks.
After the criminal is placed in the back of the squad car, the cop rejoins Yoongi as he sits on the hood of his vehicle, having a smoke before he goes on with his night.
“Never thought I’d see you get dirty, especially tonight.”
Yoongi scoffs. “Yeah, me either.”
Yoongi looks at his personal phone, looking to see if you’ve texted him, or called. He doesn’t know why he’s checking. He shouldn’t expect you to reach out after how he left you tonight. It’d be a miracle if you ever wanted to see him again.
“It’s not too late, you know.”
“The fuck are you talking about, Shark?”
Shark is one of his longtime friends. He comes from a long line of crooked cops. 
He’s been present through the ups and downs of his friendship with you. Shark’s always been rooting on your side, always telling him to reach out when you left for college.
Yoongi has never taken his advice, though.
“I’m just saying. Maybe you should just call her,” he explains.
“Who?”
“You want me to say her name out here?”
Yoongi shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”
Both of them share a laugh at Yoongi’s reaction, but then silence falls over the night. 
Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, Yoongi’s hands are beginning to throb with pain. He tries focusing on something other than that awful feeling, but he can only think about you.
Why couldn’t he just hear you out? That would have been fair. He’s regretting more and more as time goes by, wondering if the opportunity has slipped away.
He notices the way you look at him, the way you perk up when you see him. He knows there are a lot of unspoken words because honestly, he’s always had deeper feelings for you. It was way before you realized you like him as well. He bottled that shit up throughout high school, and when he had the chance to tell you how he felt, he fumbled.
You even gave him a second chance to come clean, and he still couldn’t get it together.
“Seriously, what happened tonight? I see it all over your face.”
Yoongi sighs. “I took her home, and she invited me inside.”
“And you said no? Dude, no way.”
Yoongi looks over and finds his friend’s face stuck in a grimace. He feels shame creeping up his neck, so he quickly shifts his focus somewhere else. 
“What was I supposed to say? You know I can’t let anyone see me walking in her place,” he argues.
“You could have invited her to yours, explained things a bit more. I’m sure she’s capable of making decisions for herself.”
Yoongi’s at a crossroads, but every way he turns leaves him with doubt. It’s like he’s damn regardless. 
“What if it doesn’t change her mind? What should I tell her dad, huh?” Yoongi rants. “He asked me to keep her safe, man.”
“And what do you think he meant by that?”
Shark looks at his watch and turns to Yoongi as he prepares to leave. 
“Look, my shift ends soon, so I gotta go. But I think you know as well as I do that you have the old man’s blessings. Just stop overthinking it. You’ll screw yourself.”
With that, Shark walks to his vehicle, and puts it in drive.Before he pulls from underneath the overpass, he rolls his window down and yells out.
“It’ll be alright, brother. Trust me!”
When Shark leaves, he switches cars with his right hand, not wanting to double back to your part of town in the same ride. As he starts driving away from the secluded area, he thinks back on how tonight has gone so far. That’s when something you said hits him…and it hits him hard.
“You said you needed me,” he whispers.
All day you’ve been surrounded by people, loving each other; only to go home to an empty house. You just wanted some company, a distraction. You wanted a friend.
It’s then he realizes that he’s hurt your feelings more than a little. You weren’t hung up on a crush you had over five years ago. He’s so stupid. How did his brain not perceive what you said as an invitation to hang out?
Just like you used to.
Yoongi does a U-turn and heads straight for your house. He has no idea what you’ll say to him, or if you’ll speak to him at all. But he needs you to know one thing; he gets it now. And he won’t ever let you down again.
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No matter how many times you watch it, the horror classic Thirteen Ghosts never gets old. Your dad laughs whenever you call it your comfort flick, but he’s also not a horror fan so he just wouldn’t understand. 
That bath worked more magic than you could ever imagine. It’s super late, and you should be in bed, but you’ve been thinking about the bottle of wine you bought the other day since earlier.
You aren’t really a drinker, but the bottle was cute. You figured tonight would be the perfect chance to eat some snacks, watch a movie, and give it a try. But as soon as the glass touches your lips, your doorbell rings. 
You’re not expecting anyone this late. When you don’t answer, they pound on the door, startling you. Wine spills all over your hands. Quickly, you use your shirt to dry them off before making a bigger mess. You drink what’s left in the glass in one gulp before checking your Ring camera, letting out a gasp when you discover who’s standing at your doorstep.
“Yoongi?” you whisper.
Placing your phone and empty glass on the coffee table, you go to see what he wants. If you’re honest, you’re a bit worried. Did someone break into the restaurant? 
Your dad would be devastated. 
Without a second thought, you open the door, and interrogate Yoongi before he can even open his mouth.
“Is everything okay? Did something happen to my dad’s—”
“Oh, fuck. No! No, that’s not why I’m here,” he interrupts. 
You breathe a sigh of relief, clutching your chest as the panic slowly leaves your body. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, it’s okay. What’s up? Are you okay?”
Now that you’re not shaken with worry, you notice how disheveled he looks. His hair is messy; his expression seems anxious, his knuckles bruised.
“Were you fighting?” you quiz.
“Huh?” Yoongi looks confused but then suddenly seems to remember his injury. “Oh, this is nothing. I’m good. I just came to uhh… To see you.”
Your eyebrow raises curiously. “To see me?”
“Yeah,” he confirms. 
“Okay, well… that’s nice of you, but I was planning on going to bed in a bit. I have to get up early.”
You aren’t sure why he’s acting weird. Is he in trouble? Surely, he’d tell you if he was. If so, why would he come here?
“Um, okay. Sorry,” he answers.
You tell him goodnight and attempt to shut the door, but Yoongi lodges his arm into the opening.
“What are you doing—”
“I’m listening.”
“What?”
You open the door once again, fully believing this man has lost his mind. It’s freezing out there, and he’s just standing there babbling.
“I said I’m listening,” he repeats. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what, Yoongi?”
You’ve never been more confused. First, he drops you off and hauls ass across town. Now he’s pacing at your doorstep, fumbling all over his words. Something’s going on.
“You wanted to talk, but I ghosted you, remember?”
Oh. So he remembers that.
“That’s water under the bridge. Just forget it,” you insist.
“So now I’m water under the bridge?”
“What?! No! That’s not what I said.”
“Well, explain,” he pleads. “Or just tell me it’s too late.”
“Yoongi…”
“I just wanna be friends again, but this haunts me. If you have feelings for me, I can’t—”
“I don’t,” you admit.
This is the first time Yoongi has stood completely still since he got here. He stares at you with wide eyes, not uttering a single word. 
It took you a long time to understand your feelings for Yoongi. You had to experience a few unnecessary hook ups and break ups to realize you weren’t in love. You just wanted to fuck him like everyone else.
Who knows where things would have gone? But it would have been nice to let things happen naturally than to bottle up feelings.
You open the door again, and step to the side. 
“Come in. It’s cold.”
This time he doesn’t reject your invitation. 
Yoongi follows you into your living room, looking around and probably reminiscing over the past. Nothing’s really changed other than the furniture. However, the memories of the days you two used to run around while your mom scolded you for messing up the floors are still present.
You point to the couch and offer him a seat while you stand there gathering your words.
“You can sit here.”
“Thanks,” he replies.
Yoongi sits and does that thing he does with his hands when he’s nervous. His fingers intertwine and he just watches his thumbs chase each other in a loop. He used to do it all the time whenever he’d stay too late at your house and his dad would come looking for him.
Your parents always were able to calm Mr. Min down before he could reprimand Yoongi. It took him a while but he finally understood that you and his son were best friends, and your place was Yoongi’s second home.
There are so many evenings he’d miss basketball practice to hold you while you cried after your mom died. Yoongi never left your side. Even when you were unrightfully resentful and angry with him for still having his mom in his life; he understood every stage of your grief.
So no, he’s not just water under the bridge to you. He could never be. He may be wrong for shutting you out, but everyone has their breaking point. 
“I wanted to tell you that I was in love with you. That I wanted you to go with me to college,” you confess.
Yoongi’s jaw nearly hits the floor. You can tell he’s shocked because he starts tripping over his words.
“I-I… I didn’t know that. I’m sorry. You—”
“...Was confused,” you add. 
You can’t help but laugh at yourself and at the situation. All this time you’ve been scared to rip the bandaid off, and the wound’s already healed.
“I didn’t have anyone to talk with about dating and stuff; not from a young woman’s perspective, at least. I would watch rom-coms and thought I had butterflies whenever I saw you. Whole time…”
You fold your arms and lean against the wall, watching the television with a blank stare. Already, it feels like a weight is being lifted off your shoulders. So much tension has built up over time, so many unspoken words and unresolved feelings that it’s a relief to get it all out.
“...My pussy was throbbing.”
Yoongi picks his mouth up off the floor, and straightens in his seat. Once again, he’s caught off guard.
“Huh-What?”
You snort. “I was horny, curious… I just wanted you to bend me over and deflower me.”
“Deflower you? The fuck?”
Yoongi’s laughter erupts from his chest, lightening the vibes in the room. It’s nice to hear him laugh, like genuinely grin and reveal his cute smile. You didn’t realize how much you missed seeing the image until it’s presented to you at that moment.
“Well, it’s true!”
“I see you are still an over-sharer,” Yoongi chuckles.
“And you’re still stubborn.”
Both of you look at each, shaking your heads and sharing a fond smile. You can tell this has been weighing on him as much as it did you. He’s regretful of how he handled the situation, and you’re sorry for staying away so long.
You should have tried harder. Yoongi always did whenever it got tough. 
Regardless, it’s in the past. It’s time to move on.
You walk across the room with your arms open, inviting your friend into an embrace.
“Seriously? No way,” he grimaces, trying to get up before you can close him in.
Unfortunately, he’s not fast enough.
“You know you want to. Come here.”
Wrapping your arms around Yoongi, you giggle when he acts like he’s all tense. He always pretends he doesn’t want to hug you at first, but then, he gives in.
“Fuck it,” he groans, pulling you closer.
You melt in his arm almost immediately. You don’t even care if you slide to the floor. All of your weight rests on him, but he still holds you up while complaining about you smothering him.
“I wish I could breathe,” he gripes.
“Fine…”
Yoongi expects you to back away; but instead, you climb on his lap.
“What are you doing?” 
You shrug. “My bad. I thought we were cool.”
Maybe you did move a little too quickly, but it’s nothing you haven’t done hundreds of times. You’ve shared beds, seen each other naked… accidentally found each other’s Pornhub accounts. You were just acting on instinct. 
You’re about to stand, but Yoongi stops you. “We are, but aren’t you mad at me?... From earlier?”
“A little, but…”
“But what?”
“Can’t friends kiss and make up?” you propose.
His hands rest on your bare thighs, fingers gently nudging at your big t-shirt. The room seems warmer now that there’s no distance between you. Or maybe it’s just the fires building in your belly that’s making you hot?
“Maybe…”
You trace his lips with your finger tips while looking in his eyes. You could spend the night like this if it were up to you. He’s beautiful; inside and out.
“Wanna try and find out?” he whispers.
You respond by softly connecting your lips, moaning instantly as your entire body begins to tingle. 
Yoongi pulls you closer, holds you tighter, and encourages you to deepen the kiss you share by parting your lips with his tongue. You don’t deny him, and he invades your mouth—taking over and leaving you dizzy from the lack of oxygen.
Suddenly, he pulls away, and you’re quick to whine.
“I smell wine,” he comments. “Are you—”
“I had a sip, and the rest spilled all over my hands.”
You show him the stains on your hands and shirt, and he just stares in disbelief. “Only you.”
“Whatever,” you dismiss, trying to steal another kiss from his wet lips. “I need you.”
You drag your crotch across his lap, seeking friction. You’re shocked when he grabs your waist, thinking you’re overstepped once again.
“Hold on.”
Yoongi reaches under his shirt and grabs his gun from his waistband. He shoves it in the folds of your couch, and throws you a wink.
“We’ve kissed. Now let's make up.”
With a smile, you get up and grab his hand.
“Follow me…”
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“Get on the bed,” he moans against your lips, pulling away to take off his shirt. 
You begin to move, but a thought pops up in your mind. 
Instead of climbing on the bed, you watch him remove his t-shirt and reveal his ink covered body. You bite your lip in awe at the masterpiece standing in front of you. He has no idea how hot he looks while simply undressing. You’re ready to pounce on him right now, but you pace yourself.
You have all night.
When Yoongi notices you’re still standing in the same spot, he tilts his head with a puzzled expression.
“Change your mind?” he quizzes.
You shake your head, and close the small space between you. Before he can say anything else, you drop to your knees. With skilled hands, you pull on his belt until it's free from the buckle. You flash Yoongi a smirk when you discover he’s watching you with those dark eyes. 
As you pop open the button on his pants, your other hand flattens over his denim covered dick, noting the way it begs to be freed.
“I can’t wait,” you murmur, stroking it over his jeans. 
Once you’re finally able to access his underwear, you reach inside and retrieve his thick, warm cock. You don’t care if you moaned before your lips even touched it. Shame is long gone, and you aren’t afraid to show Yoongi how long you’ve been waiting for this.
“I can tell,” he scoffs.
You let his smart remarks slide for the sake of your impatience, and move in to run the tip of your tongue up and down his slit. His precum oozes out and coats your taste buds, giving you a tiny sample of what he’ll taste like when he dumps his load on your tongue. 
Yoongi hisses, probably reacting to sensitivity. You keep going, giving him a moment to ground himself before you give him the real deal.
While you tease him, you admire his girth. He’s heavy in your hand, but his dick is the perfect size to wrap your hand around it. It’s smooth, but textured and veiny—just like his hands.
No longer able to wait any longer, you part your lips and let your saliva cover the tip. You use your fingers and palm to lubricate the rest of his shaft so that it slides into your mouth with ease. Only when he’s dripping wet with spit do you take him in, and his reaction is golden.
“Ahh, fuck.”
If you could smile, you would right now. Knowing you have him on his tiptoes almost feels as good as the blunt head of his dick touching the back of your throat. 
You can feel his muscles tenses up once your head begins to bob up and down, purposefully slurping loudly to create sinful noises.
“Fuck,” Yoongi curses. 
His voice is rough as he pants through his words, attempting to keep his composure, but failing. 
When Yoongi’s hand finds the back of your head, you look up to see what he’s doing. You keep going as you watch him whisper profanities into the air, running his ringed fingers through his dark strands.
He gathers your hair in his palm, making your scalp tingle and sting due to his strong grip. He starts controlling your movements, managing how much of him you take in at once. It’s not long before you’re choking and gagging on his cock. 
Drops of your spit and tears fall to the floor. Your head starts to spin from the vigorous motions, but the feeling doesn’t prevent you from allowing Yoongi to fuck your throat until it’s raw. 
Craving more, he thrusts into your mouth. The look on his face and the desperation of his movements lets you know he’s almost near his peak. However, once he realizes what’s happening, he swiftly pulls out, leaving you coughing due to the sudden intake of air.
“Look at me,” he commands after you catch your breath. “You’re fucking hot for that.”
“Thank you—”
Yoongi’s hand smacks the smirk off your face. You’re caught off guard, but that doesn’t stop your pussy from gushing at the change in his tone.
“But is that what I told you to do?”
You try to shake your head, but he’s still holding your hair.
“No, use your fucking mouth.”
When you try to speak, he shoves his fingers in your mouth, pushing them deep enough to gag you.
“You like using your mouth, don’t you?” he asks, but you know he isn’t looking for an answer. “So speak.”
“I do,” you croak around his digits.
“Now get the fuck on the bed like I told you to the first time.”
Yoongi snatches you up, and you scramble to the bed. You sit and wait for him to take off the rest of his clothes, trying to remain patient as you see he’s not in the mood for disobedience. You weren’t bothered the slightest by his lack of respect.
In fact, you crave more; and if you have to beg for it, you will.
“Second thoughts?” he asks randomly.
You notice that his wallet’s in his hand and after a few seconds he pulls out a condom. You get butterflies the moment he places a knee on the bed. For you, it’s not even happening fast enough.
“No way.”
“Good,” he winks. “Because I’m not gentle.”
“And I’m not glass.”
Yoongi growls when he hears that response, crawling over to you at lightning speed.
“Come here.”
He grabs your thigh and pulls you closer, pushing your legs apart so he can access your center. His fingers trace over your lace panties until he ultimately decides to rip them off of you. 
You squeak in surprise when you hear the fabric tearing.
“Yoongi!”
“Shh,” he coos. “They’re ruined anyway.”
With a face burning with embarrassment, you turn away and stare at the wall while Yoongi puts the condom on. You can feel his eyes on you, observing the way he makes you fidget and squirm.
You get too comfortable lying there in your own thoughts. The sensation between your thighs catches you off guard. 
“Ooh, shit Yoongi!”
Your body reacts the instant his dick rubs against your clit. You’re already worked up and ready to be filled, but Yoongi doesn’t want to skip the foreplay.
“Damn, it’s wet.”
He rubs the tip over your crevice, taunting you each time he passes your entrance. Just when you think he’ll slide in, he moves up to your throbbing clit and repeats.
“Please stop teasing,” you beg.
Yoongi laughs. “Why should I?”
“Because—”
You begin to whine and complain, but your words get stuck in your throat when Yoongi suddenly enters your pussy.
“Oh my god.”
Your wetness allows him to slide in easily, but your body wasn’t prepared to take him all at once. 
You grip your sheets for support, but the initial shock of him moving so quickly takes almost a minute to subside. 
Yoongi’s patient, giving your body time to adjust before he worries about pleasure. His thumb slowly massages your clit, getting you to relax under his touch. When your grip on the sheets finally loosen, he makes tiny strokes to test the waters.
“Good now?” he asks.
“Mhm.”
With your approval, he positions himself over you and fucks you a little deeper. Once he finds the perfect rhythm, he moves your right leg and places it on his shoulder. 
You’re already moaning loudly, not caring who hears. You cry out everytime his dick digs into your cervix, exploring places you never knew could be reached. 
You’ve begged guys to go deep, but they’ve always been scared to test their limits. Not Yoongi; he’s giving you everything he has, and even though you’re barely holding onto your sanity, you’d probably cry if he stopped.
“Take that damn shirt off,” he growls, gripping the giant t-shirt draped over your body.
You almost can’t figure out how to get it off, but by a miracle you manage. Now completely naked, you toss the clothing aside and start groping your tits while you lift your hips to meet his thrusts. You thought Yoongi would enjoy watching you, but he’s not impressed.
“Who told you to touch yourself?” he presses.
You don’t answer quickly enough for him. Honestly, you weren’t going to reply because your mind is so far away that his words just drift through your ears.
A hand around your throat snatches you back to real time. He’s pissed, biting his lip and trying not to spill his load before he’s ready.
“Answer me.”
This time you speak up immediately. “No one.”
“Hm. So you just do what you want?”
The sound of his deep voice mixed with the sound of your slapping skin and squelching juices turns you on beyond explanation. That familiar tension starts to build in the pit of your stomach, informing you of what’s soon to follow.
“I don’t like rules, Yoongi.”
“Oh, you will,” he promises.
Yoongi’s thrusts get stronger, making your body shift towards the top of the bed. He somehow keeps you in place using the hand he has wrapped around your neck, but you’re still being bounced around like a ragdoll.
“Since you don’t like it, I’ll finish up and leave.”  His movements suddenly become faster, and it doesn’t take you long to figure out what he’s implying. “You can make yourself cum, right?”
“What?” you shriek. “No!”
His laughter resonates through your bedroom as he mocks your desperation. You try reaching between your legs, attempting to induce an orgasm yourself but he forbids.
“Uh-uh.” 
He pushes your hand away and pins your wrist to the mattress, leaving you with no other resort.
“Yoongi, I wanna cum. Don’t be an asshole.”
“Better watch what comes out of your mouth then.”
You groan, realizing he’s too stubborn to give in. He’s not bluffing; he’d actually leave you stuck. 
You can taste the pleasure on your tongue. You’re so close, but Yoongi’s thrusts are starting to become wild. If you don’t give him what he wants, you won’t get what you crave.
“Tell me now…” he grunts, lust oozing from his lips. He leans forward, pushing your leg to your chest as he tries to come closer. The coolness of his chains pressed against your feverish skin brings you a little relief, but it’s not nearly enough. “You sorry?”
Fuck.
“I am.”
He chuckles. “I know.”
Yoongi’s thumb then wipes the single tear rolling down your cheek. Your body’s restless and seeking some relief from all the tension building inside your core. 
He finally slows down, pacing himself so he’s no longer ahead of you in the race to ecstasy. His finger gently tugs at your bottom lip, silently asking you to relax your jaw.
“You’re mine, right?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
“Good... Now open.”
Gauging your reaction, he smirks when you don’t oblige. You stick out your tongue, waiting for what you already expected.
Yoongi spits directly into your mouth, and you don’t even flinch. You look into his eyes as you close and swallow. He’s pleased when you reveal that nothing’s left when you open again.
“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he moans, repositoning himself.
Whatever he says after that is lost between his swearing and muffled cries as he presses his lips against your leg. He slowly picks up his speed this time, allowing the heat to fill up inside of you before he drills you like before.
“Fuck, you feel so good.”
“You too, Yoongi.”
You’re desperate for more tension, but you’re afraid you’ll be punished if you chase it yourself.
“More, please.”
“More?”
“Please…”
“I got you,” he assures.
Without another word, his thumb finds your clit. His name rolls off your lips over and over, surely traveling far outside your bedroom. Your body tenses aside from your fist pounding the bed. 
“Cumming!”
You can hardly breathe, air getting trapped in your lungs as his hips snap violently into yours. Your back arches as a wave of pleasure hits you like a ton of bricks. Your cries begin to fade away and all you can hear is your rapid heartbeat erupting through your ears.
Yoongi doesn’t let up, giving you his all until your body slowly falls back on you. He then pulls out and peels the condom off of his pulsing cock. As soon as it’s freed, he releases his hot seed onto your skin—painting your stomach and breasts white and sticky.
Both of you stay where you are, panting and struggling to catch your breaths.
You can see Yoongi through your heavy eyelids, slumped over and exhausted from everything he’s given in the past few minutes. His hair hangs over his eyes, but you know he’s just staring at your pussy, replaying everything that just happened in his mind.
“Yoongi?”
“Hm?” He snaps out of it at the sound of your voice, gently lowering your leg before he crawls toward you.
You feel like you’re melting when he kisses your lips. It's almost like a dream being this close to him again. Even after so long you remember the way he smells, the way he breathes… You remember everything like it was yesterday.
“You’re so perfect,” he whispers against your skin.  lips make one final journey over your body, kissing every inch of you and not caring about the taste of his cum staining your flesh. He gives you endless compliments and praises, making you bury your face in your pillows. “I can’t forget to taste you.”
“Wait!” you gasp when he spreads your pussy and devours you.
Your sensitive clit throbs in his mouth as he slurps up all your juices. Your body is limp by the time he’s done, eyes nearly shut and your mind shut down for the rest of the night.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he mumbles into the darkness.
Whatever he says next is a mystery because your tiredness ultimately puts you into a deep slumber.
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“I’m so fucking stupid.”
You groan as the sun pierces your eyes. Throughout the craziness of last night, you forgot to bring your phone to bed with you. Now, you’ll have to walk and—
Or you can ask Yoongi.
With that in mind, you roll over and unfortunately find an empty bed.
Of course, he left last night. He was probably out of the door as soon as you shut your eyes. You can only hope it’s because he has work to do and he’s not avoiding you after everything you talked about. You won’t even let your mind go there.
Instead, you get out of bed and stumble to the living room—finding your phone on the coffee table right where you left it. You’re still getting notifications as you pick it up; most from Kaci, one from another employee, but nothing from Yoongi.
Before you make your daily morning phone call to your dad, you text back that server regarding time off, and see what Kaci’s fussing about.
6:58am Kaci: BITCH YOU’RE STILL AT HOME!? 
7:10am Kaci: you so got fucked last night. i want all the detail STAT heaux
You roll your eyes. She won’t be getting anything other than the usual shoulder shrug. Last thing you need is for her to make a scene every time Yoongi’s in the room. 
7:23am You: omw. please cover for me.
7:23am Kaci: already am. get some ‘good morning’ dick sis
“I swear I wanna kill this girl sometimes,” you sigh.
Before you can leave the messaging app, your phone rings. The number isn’t saved so you answer it with caution.
“Hello?”
It’s Yoongi.
“Hey, what’s up?”
You hope he doesn’t hear the puff of air you let out as relief washes over you. You were sure you’d lost him again after the things you did and said to each other during the heat of the moment. Not like you didn’t mean everything you said, but you aren’t sure if he did.
“Nothing, just late for work. What’s up with you?”
“Not much right now. I might go home and catch some sleep,” he replies. “Your car’s outside, by the way.”
“Really?” You walk over to the window and open the blind, shocked when you see your car parked in front of your house. “How did you…”
“I told them I was taking it as collateral.”
“What?!”
Yoongi laughs. “I’m kidding.”
If he was standing next to you, you’d punch him. You don’t know how you fall for it every single time.
“I have my ways. Just um… do me a favor?” he asks.
“Yeah, anything.”
“I think my phone’s somewhere in your house. Can you check later?” 
You look around to see if maybe you can spot it but it’s nowhere in plain view. 
“I know you’re already late so…”
“Oh, yeah. For sure,” you respond. “If you want, you can stop by and look. The spare key is in the same spot it’s always been.”
“It’s cool. I’ll wait until you’re off work.”
“That works.”
Both of you stay silent, waiting on the other to speak. You realize you should be getting ready for work so you decide to end the call.
“Well, I have to get ready so… I’ll text this number later?”
Yoongi clears his throat before he answers. “Yeah, it’s a burner but I’ll get the message.”
“Kay. Bye then.”
“Hey,” he calls out before you can hang up.
“Yeah?”
“Still mine?”
A smile grows on your face, and you don’t try to stop it. You didn’t want to bring it up, but you were definitely still thinking about last night, wondering what it would mean today.
But you can’t let him have what he wants so easily, can you?
“Maybe,” you tease.
There’s a pause, but when Yoongi does speak his tone grows dark.
“You still haven’t learned, have you?”
You smirk. “I suppose I haven’t.”
“Well, then. I guess I’m coming over later.”
Shit.
If you didn’t think the restaurant would burn to the ground without your presence, you’d tell him to get his ass over here now. The mere thought of a repeat of last night has you clenching your thighs together.
No working late tonight. You’re sure it’ll be slow anyway.
“I guess you are.”
“I’m not being nice this time either,” he warns.
You bite your lip, trying to conceal your excitement, but you’re really bursting at the seams. You’re sure you’ll be anticipating his visit all day, letting your mind flood with scenarios. You decide to go ahead and taunt him some more, adding fuel to the already roaring fire.
“Good. Neither am I.”
He begins to speak but you end the call before he can get it out. 
As you stand in your living room giggling, a wave of nostalgia hits you. You remember he’d do the same to you after you’d complain about something silly. You’d be pissed, so the thought of him tasting his own medicine puts you in the lead on your imaginary scoreboard.
You’ve probably done a lot more that got on his nerves in the past, but who’s counting? It’s your job to push each other’s buttons and make up.
Isn’t that what friends are for?
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hope everyone enjoyed !!! let me know what you think !
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bambiimutt · 6 months
Text
He makes you cry during an Argument.
Arguments with these boys? What could possibly go wrong..
ೃ࿔*:・
Headcannons and short stories under the cut!
ೃ࿔*:・
TW!! talk of Hoodie stalking, but not major! I think that’s it!!
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Jeffrey Hodex:
- you’d think an argument with your boyfriend who loves you oh so dearly would hopefully end in him apologizing. Wanting to make sure he didn’t say anything to you to hurt you.. but you sometimes forget he’s not the normal person.
-Jeff has anger issues and it’s not a surprise to anyone when it’s brought up. So typically with any argument he has, his anger tends to get the better of him.
-which means if the argument is small it’s bound to be blown out of proportion, if it’s a pretty bad argument it’s about to be even worse.
-he doesn’t like to listen. To him he’s always right. He’s never wrong even if deep down he knows he actually fucked up he doesn’t want to admit it because he doesn’t want to look “weak” or too “soft”
-he typically doesn’t feel bad if you end up getting hurt emotionally, you’ll get a good ol scoff and roll of the eyes while he tells you “it’s not that big of a fucking deal, you don’t need to be so emotional.” Along the lines of that.
-but… you might just tug a few heart strings when he realized he’s made you cry. It’s when he sees that he’s scared you that he breaks a little. He’s got a habit of punching walls, breaking shit around the house when you both argue, screaming in your face.. and if it all leads to you finally breaking down and shaking that’s where he finally draws his line.
-he didn’t mean to scare you.. not like that at least. The last thing he wants is for you to be scared of him. He loves you.. even if he shows it in odd ways. He’s an asshole yes but he’s your asshole.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
“Would you just fucking Listen!” Jeff screamed out. His hands were immediately gripping onto his pants, trying his damned hardest to not punch the closest thing to him. But he can’t help himself the moment you cross your arms and give him that fucking look. “Jeffrey. Cut it out, I’ve listened to you for the past 40 fucking minutes.. you need to listen to me-“ you’re cut off quickly hearing his hand collide with the wall and a loud grunt leaving his lips. He’s slightly heaving, breathing heavily and hair a bit messy in front of his face. You jumped a bit, backing up quickly when he immediately whipped around to trudge towards you, black combat boots making him taller then he already was. His large hand was quick to grab your jaw and squish your cheeks together just slightly. “No you fucking listen to me. Stop being a fucking bitch. Why do you have to pick at everything I fucking do, huh?! Huh?!” If he was a scrawny guy you’d say you’d be able to at least get free but no.. no he was a big guy, tall. Muscular, broad shoulders.. built chest. His biceps twitched slightly as his grip grew harder. There was no way you were escaping this. Not with him. Your small hands pushed at his arm and your eyes watered, a tear falling onto his fingers. Oh.. Jeff’s grip softened as he slowly let go. His form lowering himself so he was at your level. “Oh baby.. oh..” his hands hesitated before cupping your cheeks and his lips are kissing at the corners of your lips, trailing towards your ear. “I didn’t mean it..” his voice is deep, gruff and low in your ear as you immediately wrap your arms around his waist. “I’m sorry..” really it’s the only time you’ll get a sorry out of him, a genuine one at that.
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Tobias Rogers
- he’s one of the ones who’s a bit more understanding. He can’t exactly understand physical pain or frustration but he can completely understand emotional pain and anger.. and how fucking awful it can be to handle. So when he’s stood, tall and lanky in front of you, hands swinging in the air and his voice raising he can suddenly feel the room shift to a hurt.. deep cut feeling.
- he tries not to yell he tries to hear you out when you both have an argument, but having BPD can be an issue when it comes to that.. you say one thing in a slight tone and he’s set off. Oh? So this is his fault suddenly? Why did you have to say it like that? You could have said it this way. Why do you have to be such a fucking asshole?
-when in reality that’s not how you meant it at all.. and yes Toby does feel bad for it afterwards he shouldn’t have lashed out that way, he should have sat and listened and maybe asked why you said it that way.. but sometimes things get the better of us.
-he’s not always the one to apologize afterwards but he does when he knows he really fucked up. He can’t lose you not to something so fucking stupid. “I-I’m sorry.. you didn’t deserve to hear that.. to e-endure any of that..” with a sniffle you look up at him teary eyed. Oh that really hurts. “It’s okay Toby” he’s immediately at your side, hands brushing your hair back and placing gentle kisses to your jaw. It kills him when you cry.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
“I don’t know Toby I’m just tired..” this is what set him off. The way you said it. You were tired? of this? Of him? Of this relationship? “Are you fucking serious?” He speaks with his teeth clenched together, his head resting in his hands before he’s looking up at your slowly. His body slightly twitches from time to time, though when he was angry it usually became an issue for him, twitching far too often, clearing his throat more aggressively. His tics would normally become more violent in some ways. “Are we just d-done then? That’s it just b-because you’re tired yo-you can’t fucking walk away-“ his arm flys up in the air as he stands, his hands coming to rub at his face and the patch of hair on his chin. His tired droopy eyes dart towards you. You didn’t necessarily start crying because he scared you it was more of the the stress of the situation. “Toby please that’s not what I meant.” He still hasn’t noticed as his tall figure is rambling on, tics making his occasional grip and smack to his leg but he of course can’t feel it. When he finally looks at you he realizes you’ve been crying and it stops. The room becomes quiet and he twitches a few more times before softly kneeling on the floor where you sat. “I shouldn’t have assumed like that.. I’m sorry..” he’s softly laying you down on the floor as his lips trail your neck, his hands placing your arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry.” He mumbles against your neck.
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-Ben Lawman/drowned
- to be honest he’s probably not the one who started it. He’s usually pretty calm, and quiet…. Except for when he wants to act like a child and become ignorant and downright inappropriate.
-he can be perverted.. gross and this is usually where the arguments start, not that you don’t like him nor the way he acts it’s more when he says things he shouldn’t be saying. So you typically end up yelling at him and he will normally sit embarrassed and feeling a bit guilty.. he didn’t think you’d get so upset.
- on occasion if the argument isn’t about that and about something else he still is usually the one to just take it but there are rare moments where he snaps back. And when he does. Oh boy.
-constant pacing back and forth, hands in his hair, sharp glares at you and laughing in disbelief. He’ll sometimes say things he doesn’t mean. He’s usually not one to yell but when he does you aren’t really expecting it. So it scares you.. and the tears finally break.
- ben only stares for a moment. “Shit.” Yeah he fucked up big time. He immediately feels guilty and he immediately rushes towards you to pull you into a tight embrace. He didn’t mean to take it that far.. he really didn’t, knowing it was him who made you cry makes him want to break down himself.
ೃ࿔*:・
“You can hate me yknow, I won’t blame you, or be angry..” Ben mumbled against your hair, your sniffling shattering his dead heart even further. You look up at the blonde, your fingers lacing their way into his hair as you force a bit of a smile “I just.. I hate when we argue like that..” your voice breaks causing Ben to swallow. Oh no. There’s that lump in his throat. His hands rub at your back before feeling his way towards your lower half, squeezing gently. “I know babe. Don’t listen to me when I get like that yeah?” You give a gentle smile as he softly lifts you up, bringing you closer as he grabs his controller, getting ready to play his game and have you relax against him. Occasionally he’ll presses kisses to your forehead. He doesn’t like to talk about the arguments, maybe because he doesn’t know how to handle his emotions and yours at the same time or maybe he’s just scared it’ll lead to another argument, but he apologized like he always does and makes sure your comfy against him while he games. As long as you’re content with it, he’s content.
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-Masky/ Tim Wright
- a bit like Jeff I just think he’s a bit more mellow, he won’t ever apologize unless he knows he’s actually in the wrong. Which ends up being majority of the time. You know he has his episodes, where he blacks out and doesn’t remember a lot of the things he ends up doing.
- he will sometimes black out during an argument. It’s not often but when he does it’s like arguing with a brick wall. Like Jeff he won’t listen. He refuses to listen to anything you say because In the moment he’s the one who’s right. But he’ll never go as far to say mean things like Jeff does. No Tim tends to stop himself before he does.
-he storms off frequently. I think he more or so hates the emotions that comes with this. He hates the yelling, the way you look at him with disbelief and anger.. Its more so he doesn’t feel like fucking shit up for being an asshole to someone who genuinely cares about him. So he leaves you to your emotions to figure out, and if they aren’t figured out by the time he gets back he tries his best to help. Even if he does seem annoyed.
- typically your arguments are more him being snarky, sarcastic and being too logical, he can raise his voice from time to time but he’s only ever yelled at you once, and he still beats him self up for it to this day. Seeing you cry at how angry he got, how you still reached out for him in your meltdown caused by him.. and you still reached for him.
ೃ࿔*:・
“They’re pills y/n, prescription pills. I’ll be fine you know I need to take them. Why do I need to keep telling you thi-“ you cut him off quickly your voice already laced with concern as it shook. “Because you take more then you should be taking Tim. I don’t like it I don’t want you to hurt yourself..” he understood where you came from yes but what you needed to do was stop it. Just stop worrying about him. “Please for the love of god, I’m fine! I’m fucking fine! I’ll be fine! Please just stop it. I hate how much you worry and stress yourself over me. They’re fucking pills, I take them when needed. So just stop!” Now he didn’t scream super loud, but it was loud enough for you to feel the lumpy tingly feeling in your throat bubble, your hands softly twisting together “s-sorry..” you squeaked out. Tears brimmed your eyes as your bottom lip quivered. He watched you carefully for a moment, grimacing a bit as he watched your face twist with sadness.. and you slowly making your way towards him. Tim opens his arms and quietly pulls you in, one hand rubbing at the back of your head and the other gripping your back. “I’m an asshole. I know you’re just worried.” He mumbled quietly, lips pressed to your forehead as you hide your face in his chest. “You’re okay..” he continues to mumble, awkwardly trying to find a way to comfort you further.
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Hoodie/ Brian Thomas
-he’s quiet. Very quiet. I think he’s the most gentle when it comes to arguments with his S/O. He’s scared to hurt you, always in any circumstances. He’s more observant, he knows when the argument gets too much for you just by a single movement.
-though he does have his moments where he does get angry back, he can normally control his temper. Usually the argument starts by something he’s done so he can handle it, he can deal with it. He tells you “I promise I’ll change, just give me some time” and you believe him because he does change but then he falls back into his habits, leaving for weeks on end, taking too many pills, his stalker tendencies.
-the argument this time is unclear, you probably don’t even remember by the Time Brian starts yelling back at you. His hair is messy from running his hands through it one too many times, he’s clenching his fists and trying to breathe as he shakily keeps his voice down.
-even in moments like this he still thinks of you. Not wanting to hurt you nor scare you.. he just lets you have your outburst and then you both move on. But tonight was different.
-he tends to ignore you when he gets worked up in an argument. If he’s not yelling back then majority of the time he’s just silent. His back towards you. But only when he’s angry right back at you. He’ll give you that silent treatment for hours.
-but this time. He made you cry. And he’s stopped dead in his tracks, eyes softening, getting down on his knees and resting his head against your stomach,his hands holding onto your waist. Sigh… he just had to fuck shit up again didn’t he.
ೃ࿔*:・
“Brian you can’t just leave me for weeks on end.. you can’t just.. disappear then show up like nothings happened. Where do you go..? Is there someone else” at this point he’s just been listening to you, letting you vent out but when you suddenly accuse him of cheating on you.. he snaps. You really think HE would cheat on you?! It’s not like he didn’t spend months watching you, becoming so infatuated with you to the point that it would make anybody so fucking sick to their stomach. But he couldn’t tell you that he couldn’t tell you he’s loved you far longer. So he stands, looks at you with anger in his eyes, a hint of sadness flashing on his face “don’t fucking accuse me of cheating on you.” He points a shaky finger in your face “don’t you ever. You don’t understand the shit I’d do for you, the shit I DO for you.” He’s close now, watching as you look up at him shakily. “This S-still doesn’t explain where you go Brian.. you-“ he’s grabbing your wrist and pulling you close “no listen to me. I want to tell you I want to tell you so badly but I can’t. I can’t. I just can’t.” His eyes are averting he’s becoming shaky himself, he’s panicking. Trust him. Is what he wants to tell you, that It’ll all be okay, he’ll be okay in a couple of days, he’ll change just give him time.. but he can’t lie to you.. not now. It would only make shit worse for you in this moment. When he finally looks back at you he sees you staring up at him, not a word spoken but tears streaming down your face, and your wrists still held tight in his large hands. “I..” he softly brings your hand down, lowering himself to the ground as he watches you still stare straight ahead. He scared you. Brian goes silent and lets himself sit on his knees, his hands running up under your shirt to hold onto your waist and burying his head into your stomach. “I’m sorry” he whispered gently, shivering when he feels your hands curl into his hair and finally look down at him. You know he feels guilty. He’s only trying to protect you.
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Text
The Scare
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gf!reader
Word count: 1.2K
Warnings: Angst (ooooo, my first time writing angst), comfort, break in, attempted kidnapping, simon in ghost mode, graves being a pussy, simon being a good bf
Summary: You thought it was Simon, he had come home early from his mission, but there were 2 pairs of footsteps walking around your home.
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Everyone knew Lieutenant Riley was cold. He was ruthless, cruel, heartless, and so much more. 
But there was one thing that made him soft. One person. 
You. 
Barely anyone knew that the Lieutenant had picked himself up a hot little thing and managed to keep her. The two of you had been together for 3 years now and he was so close to proposing. He was ready to spend his life with you. He was ready to make you his and give you his last name. 
But what happens when someone who shouldn’t know about you finds out about you?
***
Graves knew. Somehow he knew. He mentioned your name to Simon, “Ghost, that is not nice. How would your pretty little (Y/N) think of that?”
Simon shivered. 
And then he realised. 
Graves was coming for you.
***
You were curled up in bed, music playing in the background as you read one of your favourite romance books Simon had bought you. The lights were off, a single three-wick Bath and Body Works candle on your bedside table. It was peaceful. Cosy. 
You were on the 15th chapter before you head footsteps and your front door opening. 
Simon isn’t supposed to be home yet.
You check your phone. 
Simon would’ve messaged if he was coming home.
There was no message. And he wouldn’t surprise you like this. 
You sit up, turning off the music. The footsteps are doubled. There’s two people. 
Simon wouldn’t come home with someone else. This wasn’t Simon walking around your apartment. 
With trembling hands, you reach for Simon’s hidden knife, concealed under his side of the bed. You clutch in it a sweaty palm, silent praying that the person walking around your apartment is a friend, not a foe. The footsteps get closer. You take a deep breath.
The doorknob jiggles. Your anxiety skyrockets. There’s murmurs before a foot hits the door. 
1 kick…
2 kicks…
3 kicks before the door finally busts open, shattering the lock. 2 men, dressed in black military uniform, hold up their guns to aim for your head. You suck in a breath. 
“That her?” The first man asks. 
“Think so. She fits the description,” the other one responds.
You shiver. They barely acknowledge you as they speak. 
One of them steps closer to you, reaching for the knife in your hand. You strike, stabbing his wrist through the jacket he wears. He yells, “Bitch stabbed me!”
He pushes you, reaching down to grab his wrist, pulling out the knife. The other one walks over while you’re distracted, talking a hold of your arms and tying them behind your back. You yell before you hear the sound of duct tape ripping. Within seconds, there’s a piece over your mouth. You try to yell. No use.
They begin to speak to each other fast, so fast you can barely catch their words. 
Help me…
The one you stabbed wraps up his wrist with a cloth, before picking up your legs. The other picks up your torso. 
You thrash around in their arms, trying to get free as you kick the one you stabbed, He holds your feet together with one hand, barking out a quick, “Stop it!”
He has an American accent, you notice. They carry you out of your bedroom as you continue to thrash around. They almost make it to the front door. 
But the door is wide open. And in the door frame stands a tree of a man, face covered by a mask of a skull. 
Simon…
Your eyes fill with tears of joy. 
Simon’s eyes are as dark as the night as he stares at the scene. 
The men immediately drop you, making you hit your head on the floor, a cry of pain dropping from your lips. Your vision goes blurry as you hear Simon step closer, fists clenched. 
You roll over onto your side, trying to get your hands out of their bonds, trying to grab your head to ease the pain. You suck in a sharp breath. Your vision stays blurry, barely making out the black blobs fighting in front of you. 
From the blobs you see, the one with the mask is bigger. And he’s winning. 
You think… 
One of the men drop down next to you, a new red blob on the ground making it’s way into your vision. You count to fifteen before the other man drops down too. 
You count to eight before you feel a hand pull the duct tape off your mouth. You let out a loud sob of relief. Simon…
He unties your wrists, gently massaging them as you roll over again, grabbing your head. You close your eyes as you let out cries of pain. 
It hurts. Your wrists hurt. Your mouth hurts. 
But the pain in your head is indescribable. It shoots from the back to the front, meeting at the centre of your forehead. It shoots back. And then back to the front again. And back again. And front again. And over and over. 
You can barely hear your cries anymore over the feeling of pain. 
A pair of arms pick you up bridal style, as if you weigh nothing. The black blob holding you takes you to the bedroom, setting you down on the bed. The blob walks away again. 
You count to thirty before it-he-returns, holding an ice pack, a glass of water, and a few advil pills. He sits on the edge of the bed, setting down the items. 
He takes off his mask, vest, gear, and everything else until nothing remains but a shirt and his tactical pants. Simon tips up your chin, placing one of the pills on your tongue, pushing it back with some water. “Swallow.”
You do as he says. 
A deep exhale leaves your body. 
He presses the ice pack to your head. “How bad is i’? Do I need to call a’ ambulance?” 
“N-no…” you blink back tears.
“You sure, lovie? ‘t was a bad fall,” he sighs, smiling sadly at you. “‘m so sorry ‘is happened to ya. Ya are the most important thin’ to me and Graves, bitch that ‘e is, took advantage of tha’. Soap and Gaz ‘re in the kitchen, gettin’ rid of the garbage. Tol’ them not to come in ‘ere. Ya need rest, okay? Bu’ don’ fall ‘sleep, ya migh’ have a concussion.” 
You nod to the best of your ability. He takes a hold of your hand, kissing your wrist. “‘M so so so sorry. Ya didn’ deserve ‘hat, okay? Ya so perfec’ and special to me…”
He looks down at the bloody knife on the ground.
“Ya try to protec’ yourself?” You nod in response to his words. “Good girl. Ya atleas’ did some damage…slowed them down enough jus’ in time for me to get ‘ere.” 
“Ho-how did you know I w-was in…” you don’t bother to finish your sentence. 
“Graves sai’ ya name to me. I took a guess ‘e was gone go for ya. Rushed here with the other three. They gone go on the mission without me. Need to stay ‘ere, make sure ya okay.” 
He presses a kiss to your forehead. You smile, softly. 
“Thank you…Si…” you nod. “For everything.”
“Always gone be there to save ya,” He nods. “When ya get bette’, I gone teach ya how to properly use that knife…and a few more things, just in case.”
“Sounds good, Si,” you hold back a giggle. 
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katsukikitten · 6 days
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cum here
Warnings: spit, dub con
A Bakugou Birthday collab read the intro on the ML first!
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A notification pulls your attention in your tipsy stupor as you collapse half dressed in your bed. Another successful night out with your girlfriends when your favorite pro hero posts a picture.
A thirst trap no less making you pop up in bed, the room spins delightfully as you stare down at the picture, screen shooting it without a care that he may get a notification for it but you were sure that you wouldn't be the only one.
Bakugou Katsuki, THE Dynamight with his shirt up exposing his abs, his Adonis belt and the vein that leads down to what has to be his fat cock.
You salivate over the thought of it and the several shots of tequila have you feeling bold, although your friends would argue you'd have been this bold sober simply because of how much you spoke about him even if most of the public thought he was an asshole you claimed that's what made him so fucking hot.
Pushing up your tits and angling your phone just right before you snap a photo and attach it to a very public reply before you slip into his dms to send a little something extra.
Bakugou's phone becomes nuclear to say the least, blown up from how many replies and notifications has gotten in such a short time. Each and every woman and the few male prospects are more than attractive and yet none make his cock jump to life, not fully anyway.
Until he sees you, tapping on the picture to make it full screen.
Soft fat tits pressed together, skin aglow in the ambient low light of warm string lights. Tongue lolling past pretty lips, wet muscle most likely fluttering before you took the picture. Obvious that you waited long enough for drool to drip from the tip in a silvery string as some droplets collected on those perfect tits. Pinching his screen to zoom in on your sexy mouth he imagines pressing his angry cock head against before he shoved his length until you gagged around him.
He groans at the thought, zooming out to take in all of you before he finally reads the caption..
Cum here.
“Fuck.” He growls, clicking on your profile, going to privately message you in hopes of more pictures. Palm moving to free his cock from his boxers when he sees you messaged him first.
Sharing your location with the pro hero like a fucking idiot. What if Bakugou had been hacked?
And here you were offering yourself up on a silver platter.
Cum here echoes in his head as he backs out to your selfie and before he can talk himself out of it he's jumping back into the tight black denim that never made it past his thighs.
You lock your phone falling back into your bed after you've seen that he's read your messages. Sighing as you hadn't expected much else, especially since it was his birthday and half of the feed were thirst traps of others tagging Dynamight in hopes of getting his attention. He ignored every single one of them, even from well known models and porn stars, so what chance did you really have?
Still, it was fun to be a little delusional every now and again.
Fireworks echo in the distance and you're surprised the spring festival was going this late into the night. Never one to miss a good show you rise from your bed, topless and half drunk to watch the last of the fireworks before you'd pass out, sleep well past noon before ordering a fat order or take out.
Leaving the sliding glass door open when the cool night air makes you shiver and regret foregoing a shirt. Eyes adjusting to the dark easily but your eyebrow furrows up in confusion. You hear the fireworks but you can't see them.
At least not well, a small orange burst that makes you wonder if maybe they aren't fireworks at all, that maybe it was just a villain making their grand escape.
Scoffing you turn, closing the sliding glass door only for it to be stopped in its tracks. Looking up for see a hulking shirtless man shrouded in darkness on your balcony. Smoke, caramel and whisky envelope your senses as the man breathes evenly behind you. You blink once, twice before you register his eye color.
Toxic, crystalline bromine.
"Dynamight?”
“In the flesh, Sweetheart.” He removes his hand from the frame of the door, takes a step towards you and you step back.
Stalking forward until you're both fully in the room and he delights in the mixture of emotions in your eyes. Fear, excitement, arousal.
“Haaah, what's wrong? Little kitty is acting more like a cornered bunny. Ya scared?” He leers over you, crowding your space, “Shouldn't be. Yer the one who invited the big bad wolf.”
Grabbing onto your chin to turn your pretty face this way and that, he doesn't even need to force his eyes away from your chest, your face captivates him that much. He runs his tongue across his teeth before he smirks.
“Now where am I supposed to cum again?” His large thumb swipes over your plush lips before he shoves it between them, forcing your mouth open.
He tries to recreate the picture you sent him, watches the wet muscle flutter and it makes him salivate. Makes him gather it in his mouth before he's pushing it the tip of his tongue letting his spit hit your tongue.
“Right here wasn't it?” He mixes his spit with yours with his thumb, pressing down on your tongue harshly. He watches your eyes widen before they narrow, into that hungry cat gaze that was in your photo.
Eyes that devour him whole as you hollow your cheeks to suck on his thumb. Swirling it around the digit before you pop off of him, the lewd sound echoing around the two of you.
You're fast, faster than Bakugou, especially drunk, expects. Jumping onto him and wrapping your legs around his waist, bucking your hips to make him fall onto the bed with a grunt as your tongue slides into his mouth. He paws at you heavily, grabbing at all your delicious softness as he growls into your mouth, calloused hands still warm from his journey here. Launching himself into the air that did little to sober him after he stalked your profile enough to get your apartment floor and balcony right.
Your claws dig into the nape of his neck as you bring him into a sitting position parting the kiss slowly, letting the silvery string that connects the two of you snap on its own.
“Gonna let me take care of the birthday boy and his special request?” You practically purr, crawling down his body as your fingers hook into the waistband of his boxers and jeans. All but ripping them from his body even when he lifts his hips to help you free his cock while he grunts out a “‘Course.”
It stands at attention, jumping as your eyes fixate on the one thing you've fucked yourself to the thought of hundreds of times. Drunk all over again, eyes falling to half mast as your hand grips him firmly, listening to him hiss over the contact before you give him a few languid pumps.
Hovering over him for a moment before you look up, watching his pupils blown wide, wider than what they were at the door. Soft almost unnoticeable red tint to his cheeks as he tries to control his breath.
“Try not to fall in love.” You giggle, lolling your tongue out to swipe over the leaking slit in a quick stripe.
“Ya wish, Sweetheart.” But already his head is falling back, hands reaching to grab at your hair before you swipe him away.
Slowly taking him into your mouth, hand gripping what you can't fit into your mouth, letting his fat cock head gag so that your throat contacts the same way your cunt would. Saliva pooling past your lips to coat his shaft, gagging again when you hear him groan before you start a steady pace.
Bobbing your head, alternating hollowing your cheeks and letting him ram into the back of your throat. Giggling when you push his head into the pocket of your cheek, holding eye contact and he reaches down to pull his balls harshly.
He's never been this close to cumming with such little effort.
You let your molars graze him lightly before straightening him in your mouth again. Sure to hit your gag reflex purposefully so that his pre and your spit soak his neatly trimmed pubic hair that's starting to slick to his skin.
If you're lucky he'll stay long enough for your pussy to do that to him too. Cunt neglected as it soaks your underwear as you adjust your weight on your knees for some sort of friction.
Moaning around him when he groans loudly, at his hisses and growls of sugared curses that do nothing but encourage your sinful movements.
Katsuki is panting, the man with all the endurance in the world is fighting the building coil in his lower abdomen and losing.
Bakugou Katsuki never loses but tonight he just might.
Letting his fingers card through your hair before he's pulling harshly, still you don't budge. Lost in your mission to make this last as long as possible by changing from a speed that's bound to make his cum flood your mouth to a slow bob that has you gagging around his sensitive head every time.
Letting your eyes flicker to look up at him and his debauched face, throughly fucked out as his chest heaves eyes fixated on you even as he struggles to hold his head up as if he couldn't bare to look away from.the things you do to him.
The sight is enough to make your eyes flutter, to make you moan around him and the vibrations make his sac tighten, moving your hand so you can shove all of him deep into your tight throat, tears in your eyes that stick in long lashes and fall in fat droplets as you bob on his entire length, once, twice.
And he can't take it, the sight, your eyes all but begging him to cum as you choke yourself on him, as if his pleasure was more important than air.
“Oh fuck princess, just like that.” He groans, cupping the back of your skull as he presses enough to make you gag one last time before he bucks his hips up into you. Starving you of air as your nose is pressed to his pelvic bone while he paints your pretty throat in sticky white cum, your claws digging into the thick meat of his thighs deliciously.
Finally he lets you up and you gasp desperately for air even if you found his aggression as he chased his high undeniably hot. You expect him to smirk, expect him to laugh or to leave pulling up his pants in a hurry but he doesn't.
Instead his large hand grips your chin, pulling you to him as his free hand comes to wrap around your sensitive ribs. Closing the space so that he can kiss you, swiping his tongue over yours shamefully groaning into your mouth as he tastes himself mixed with your spit.
“Fuck.” He pulls you onto the bed, flipping the two of you so he can pin you to the mattress chasing your lips desperately. His other hand has a mind of its own as it rips your panties from your hot core, fingers quick to press and spread your glistening folds. Cruelly avoiding your clit before he shoves two thick digits knuckle deep into your drooling cunt.
Forcing you to arch off the bed, pumping into you with a harsh pace, fingers perfectly positioned to bully that spongy spot that has you seeing stars before he times it perfectly.
Pulling away enough to look you in your eyes before he slowly, roughly, swipes his thumb over your clit and makes you cum in a matter of seconds, faster than any toy. You arch off the bed with a moan so loud you're sure the neighbors know his name now, little do you know what else he has in store.
Removing his middle and ring finger from your fluttering cunt reluctantly, quick to press the digits to his tongue harshly. Smoky caramel fills your senses as his palm heats against the fabric by your head. Leaning over you again to swipe his tongue against yours to taste the two of you melded together in your hot, hungry mouth. He pulls away, hand gently cupping your throat as he holds your gaze, cock heavy and hard again as he aligns it with your still convulsing entrance.
“Sorry Sweetheart, guess I fell in love.” He bullies himself into you in one harsh thrust and you're seeing stars again.
“Now I gotta return the favor.”
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januaryembrs · 8 months
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MAGIC BROWNIE | Eddie Munson x Sunshine!Reader
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Description: Sunshine girl accidentally eats one of Eddie’s “Magic Brownies” and he takes care of his baked girlfriend.
Word count: 3.3k
Trigger Warnings: weed obviously, accidental drug usage, quick mention of child neglect when talking about Eddie as a kid not eating enough. Reader gets undressed but no sex (eddie has a horny thought however)
main masterlist
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This was not how he had expected their day to go. She loved baking for him and Wayne, loved making sure her scrawny, lanky boyfriend was fed, and boy could he eat. Wayne swore he had the stomach(s) of a cow. Any food left on his plate? Give it to Eds. Food ready to go out of date? Nope, Eds is already scarfing it down. Weekly food shop was just brought in? Munson is dining like a king before the fridge door is even open.
Maybe it was from when he lived with his dad and he would forget to feed the little, jet black haired boy for days on end and he would have to be given half his teacher’s lunch when they saw how gaunt he was through his mop of curls. Maybe he had yet to adjust to the idea that he would still have food without storing it for winter like a damn bear, either way she never dared to think about her sweet Eds and his kind uncle going hungry on weeks when money was tight.
But when dessert became an option, Eddie’s sweet tooth was in heaven.
They had the house to themselves on Sundays; Wayne was always pulling doubles on a weekend to make up the extra cash, the garage was always busiest then. They already had leftovers from last night to sort them for the evening, so what else better than to cook than a thick tray of rich brownies she’d practised not even a week earlier.
Unbeknownst to her, Eddie had done his own kind of baking.
“Okay, be there for seven,” He said into the corded phone, biting at his nail as he thought. Nodding to himself, before remembering they couldn’t see him, he hummed a goodbye and hung up the phone.
“Who was that?” She asked, emerging from the loo with freshly wet hands, wiping them on her jeans as she tied the pretty little pink apron around her waist again. Watching her lean down to open the oven door, he smiled to himself, handing her the matching oven mitts.
“No one,” He muttered, shamelessly watching her ass as she bent down to pick out the hot tray, “Just got a package to drop off later,”
“What, like to the post office?” She asked, her eyes flicking to him innocently, shoving the pan out for him to smell.
Smiling toothily at her, as if he knew a secret she didn’t, he kissed her forehead sweetly. “Where else would I take a package, sweet girl?” He murmured, before shoving his finger in the centre of the chocolatey goodness with a childish raspberry blown through his cherry lips.
Hissing when his finger met the hot sugar in the centre, he shoved the digit into his mouth with a groan of delight and pain.
“It’s still hot, honey,” She scolded, putting the tray onto the side to assist the frowning boy.
“You’re still hot, baby,” He said, his words distorted by his finger being in the way of his tongue. Pulling it from his mouth, she inspected the spit covered skin carefully, seeing where it raised red slightly.
Giggling at his words, she kissed the tip gently, unaware of the way his eyes seemed to follow the way her mouth pressed to his burn so carefully, feeling his tummy shiver at his girlfriend's pure actions.
“Feel better Eds?” She asked, looking up at him with hopeful eyes, his tongue going dry immediately. His chin bobbed for a second, scrambling for words, before he nodded wordlessly, turning away from her before she could see the way his cheeks blazed a rosy heat of their own.
“Um, I just gotta-” He stammered, heading for his room as she pulled out a sharp knife to cut the slab into segments. His mouth was dry as he dug out the brownies he’d made himself two days prior, though these weren’t as chocolatey as his sweet girlfriend’s and more rammed to high (ha) heavens full of weed.
Did he prefer the taste of hers? Yes, any day of the week she was an amazing cook. Had he burnt the top and left a thick crust whilst somehow managing to undercook the middle? Yes, though he was still at odds with himself just how he’d done so. But were his little gooey creations going to see him and Wayne through two weeks of rent? Absolutely.
Dashing back to the kitchen with the blue tupperware under his arm, he stopped long enough to see her transferring them into some kitchen paper inside her own container, her fingers gentle enough to carve ice let alone handle confectionery.
“I’ll be right back, just gotta take care of some things. How about I swing by Family Video on the way back and rent us The Shining?” He asked, a large, scuffed hand coming up to her face to cup her cheek, brushing away the flour that dusted her eyebrow.
She scrunched up her nose, but kept his doe gaze nevertheless, big, Bambi browns staring down at her, entranced.
“I dunno, Eds. I like those films but they always make me wanna puke afterwards,” She said, lips twisting in disgust, “Plus I get kinda scared when Wayne’s not home anyway, I don’t wanna be thinking of crazy axe wielders. Hawkins is crazy enough as it is,”
Putting the tupperware on the side, next to her pretty pink one, he took her warm cheeks in his grasp and tugged her face closer.
“Which is where I come and hold your hair back and protect you from the intruders, silly girl,” He asked, a kiss going to the tip of her nose, “What does my lady want instead then? Gremlins?” Another to her forehead, “The Lost Boys?” There goes another to her chin of all places, “Labyrinth? Come on, I know you have the hots for Bowie as a Goblin King ya’ little freak,” He blew a raspberry on the apple of her cheek, a big wet kiss following it.
Giggling some more and shoving him away, rubbing her face on her shoulder, “How about E.T?” She asked, her hands coming to rest on his wrists.
He stilled, eyes wide with his own grimace. “E.T? Now that’s a scary movie,” He said, watching his girlfriend roll her eyes and smirk, “I’m serious. That wrinkly mother fucker gave me nightmares, with his extendable neck and his weird eyes and shit-”
“Alright, alright, Labyrinth it is.” She conceded, leaning on her toes to kiss him sweetly on the mouth, “I’ll still need you to hold my hand all night, alright Goblin King?” She asked, watching his cheeks flush as she leaned in closer to him, “Movie night rules, unfortunately,”
He couldn’t remember if he’d said anything, just that his mouth had moved in some kind of agreeing motion, his eyes trained on the way she licked her pretty lips as she leaned in for another kiss. Two years together and she still had his heart hammering away behind his ribcage whenever she kissed him.
He barely remembered getting in his van with the package, its hot pink lip staring at him from the passenger seat, the thought of her shampoo smell invading his nose whenever she got so close he could see each individual pigment in her eye. He barely remembered dropping it off, other than taking the money and wishing his customer a good evening, “I know I will be,” He said under his breath, flooring it to Family Video.
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“One Goblin King and empty hand at your request, fair maiden,” Eddie said, practically tumbling through the door, his van all but ditched in the driveway. Looking around for his sweet girlfriend, he furrowed his brow when he heard not even a peep in response. Usually she would be bouncing over to him with a kiss ready on her lips made just for him, maybe even a bowl of warm, buttery popcorn if he was really lucky.
But nothing.
Twitching the curtains, he made sure her car was in the drive, and just as he’d thought, she’d not left. So where in hell's gates was she?
“Baby?” He called through the small trailer, his panic starting to set in. Surely an intruder would have taken jewellery or money, not a whole woman for christ sakes. Maybe it was the past few years with the Lab being shut down for its dangerous radiation, or the talk of the Russian’s invading their little town, or even that Summer kids went missing from their friend’s pool party, he didn’t know. She was probably just waiting behind the door to jump out at him, or some dumb trick like that. She probably was just in his bedroom getting changed or something like that.
He had never moved through the little hallway so fast, hating how quiet it was.
His heart dropped when he saw his tiny room empty. His unmade bed that he had never seen looking smart sent him over the edge. Was there a struggle? Had his wardrobe door always open? Of course it was, he was a master of leaving things unfinished. He’d leave a sandwich without filling if he wasn’t always so damn hungry. No, he was being silly. There was nothing off about his room, nothing that screamed kidnap other than the god damn silence- why was it so damn quiet-
Then he heard a creak from the bathroom, and it was like his chest took a xanax. “You in there, honey?” He called, doubling back on himself to stand outside the white door, leaning in closer to hear inside. Hearing still no response, he practically melded with the wood, cheek squished against the cold wall, “Baby?”
Nothing, nothing but slight movement from the other side.
Huffing, he reached for the handle, “I’m gonna come in, alright? I’m just checking you’re okay, I’m not a peeping Tom or anything-“
Their bathroom was tiny, was only there for usage over luxury, but it was cosy. Yet, it couldn’t have prepared Eddie for the odd sight. His girlfriend, seemingly playing with something in her hands, fully clothed in a half filled bath, her denim jeans submerged, socks still on her feet, top floating riding up to her chest with the water pressure.
Staring at the back of her head for a moment, the confusion clear on his face, he looked around for anything that could help explain the odd situation, before his eyes fell back on her.
“You alright, honey?” He asked, approaching her carefully, though it took all of one step to make it to the small, PVC tub. Her head lolled to rest against the wall, and she seemed to have only just noticed him standing there.
“Edsy!” She said, smiling dopily up at him, “I was wondering where you got off to,”
Chuckling unsurely, he rested his hand on top of her head, giving her a gentle stroke. “You alright there, Little Mermaid?”
She snorted, reaching up to show him her hands, “I was just painting my nails, see?” Except all he saw was red marker pen drawn over her fingertips, the nails more akin to a toddler coming home from preschool. Thinking she was kidding, he smirked.
“Beautiful baby-” He stopped himself, the smile dropping in an instant when he finally met her eyes. She went to look away, her hand holding the red crayola pen tightly to continue her artwork, but his hand shot out to grab her chin. “Wait, wait, wait. Look at me,” He swore he had never sounded so serious.
She blinked up at him after a moment, again as if taking a second to compute his order, and looked up at him with droopy lids. Smiling at him sweetly, his gaze locked in on her red corneas, bloodshot and absolutely baked expression.
“Baby, are you high? Did you go under my bed?” He asked seriously, turning her head to the streetlight filtering through the window to get a better look.
“Why would I do that, Eds?” She asked, her words drawling, quieting as she ended her sentence as if she hadn’t the energy to finish. “I just had a couple of the brownies I made and started feeling warm and didn’t wanna be sweaty when you got home-”
Hand flying to stroke his temple, he gently caressed his girlfriend’s face, understanding her issue. He must have taken the wrong fucking box.
“Oh baby, oh my sweet girl. I am so sorry.” Taking her head into his chest, he pressed a kiss to her parting. “I’ve spiked my own girlfriend, new fucking low Munson,”
“-ddie,” Her voice was muffled from his Hellfire shirt, “We gonna watch Jared?”
“Jareth, honey,” He sighed, looking down at his stoned girlfriend with a concealed smile. He felt guiltier than a sinner in church but god was she cute high. “Come on, let’s get you dry,”
Hoisting her out of the tub with his hands under her arms, he got her to take off her jeans and top as he held up a large bath towel as a curtain between the two of them, wanting to give her some level of privacy. Hearing her clothes hit the floor with a heavy thud, he wrapped her body with the big towel, feeling her hands in his hair as he helped her into his room, her feet shuffling obediently.
“Now the movie?” She asked, plopping herself down on the bed, her eyes lazily scanning over his walls of posters as if she wasn’t here three times a week. Digging around in his bottom draw for spare clothes, he tried to hide his snort as she nudged at his butt with her foot. “Eddie, now the movie?”
“Nearly, baby,” He said, handing her a grey shirt and boxers big enough to fit comfily on her. “Gonna get you a bit comfier first, I’ll make you some mac and cheese,”
“But I’m not hungry,” She said, tugging the shirt over her head with a whine, before flopping back, feeling dizzy, “You do the legs for me,”
“Huh?” Eddie asked, blushing when she spread her legs and gestured to him with the boxers in her hand.
“You do the legs, my head feels funny,” She mumbled, spreading her arms out on the bed, fingers digging into the fluffy duvet. He knew it was probably soft under her dulled touch.
Eddie and her had been intimate many times before. Hell, they’d had sex before they’d even reached the one month mark, but having her ask him to take her underwear off, even so innocently, had his face red as a saint.
“Alright, honey. I’m gonna make you feel better, get you some water.” He said, hoping she couldn’t feel how his hands shook as he slipped her underwear down her legs, avoiding looking at her private parts for her dignity’s sake, “And trust me you’ll want something to eat in an hour or two,”
“If you say so, Eds,” She murmured as he gently held her ankle to put her foot through the leg hole, doing the same to the other and pulling them over the meat of her thighs that had his mouth watering. Giving her knee a little kiss (he tried to stop himself, he did) he asked her to sit up a little so he could bring the underwear all the way up.
He couldn’t help give the softness of her stomach a kiss too as he rose to see how she was doing, smiling softly when he saw her sleepy eyes regard him with a little smile of her own.
“Tired?” He near whispered, stroking her warm cheeky with his knuckle gently. She shook her head, blinking harshly when it made her vision blurry.
“No, just feel funny,” She said, grabbing onto his wrist to keep his cool hands on her face, “But good funny. I think. Just funny,”
“How many did you have, baby?” He asked, holding onto her hand as she sat up, watching her head tip slightly at the movement, as if he could tell how heavy every part of her felt. He knew the stages of edible high well; he and Keith had been hooked on them in tenth grade, but his sweet girlfriend knew nothing about any of his ‘Magic Brownies’ he sold, and he’d intended to keep it that way until now.
“Two, I think. I think I had a bite of a third and I started feeling weird so I stopped. I thought I just had a lot of chocolate.” She said, head pressed against his shoulder as he led her to the kitchen, “Eddie, my feet are cold,”
“Oh, shit, your socks,” He cursed, heading towards the sofa. “I’ll fix you up, don’t worry honey,” He said, gently helping her sit down, her body all but dead weight.
She murmured something as he pulled away, and he could only give her hand a peck before he was rushing around, grabbing her things that would make her feel better. Fluffy socks to calm her, make her comfy, water for when her mouth got dry, plain tortilla chips for when she started getting hungry while he’d cook her some real food. He all but scowled at the weed confectionary as he passed it, hating the fact he had unknowingly gotten his girlfriend into such a state.
He took barely five minutes before he gently rolled the socks onto her cold feet, throwing himself back down next to her, her head lolling to look up at him through heavy lids.
“We watch Jared now?” She asked, burrowing her face into his shirt.
“We watch Jared now.” He confirmed, chuckling when he felt her try to press herself even further into him, her nose jabbing into his ribs, “What are you doing?”
“Wanna crawl inside your skin, I’m not close enough out here,” She murmured, and Eddie smiled widely down at her, pressing play on the remote.
“I’m gonna pretend that wasn’t mildly creepy, baby,” He said, his arm wrapping around her to keep her close, feeling her melt into his side, “I got you some water for when your mouth goes cottony,”
“Huh?” She said, though her eyes were zeroed in on the screen, his words a jumble in her ears. Nosing her hair line, he chuckled, kissing the tip of her ear and stroking her arm.
“Nothing, just watch your film, honey,” He said, his words a sugary glaze as he looked down at her zombie-like expression.
He had a lot of ass kissing to do in the morning.
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ellemj · 27 days
Text
Breathe: Part 1
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Two-Part Fic
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Summary: Bucky hates the way you take unnecessary risks in the field, the way you're so mesmerizing and yet so hard to work with, and he especially hates the way you get on your knees for him during a dangerous mission. Finding out how pretty you look on your knees is the last thing he needs.
Warnings: profanity, enemies to lovers type vibe, Bucky being a moody yet protective little shit, teasing, prelude to smut
Word Count: 5.3k
A/N: I've been thinking on this one for weeks, working on it slowly but kept getting stuck with the dialogue. Happy to say that I was inspired tonight and finished enough of it to post for you guys 🖤
            The handgun tucked into the waistband of your jeans, the black backpack with a few extra magazines and various pieces of tactical gear, and the determined look in your eyes all tell Bucky one thing. He has a very limited window of time to convince you not to do this, to get you to think rationally and not get yourself killed. He watches in silence as you zip up the backpack and drop it on the floor by the front door of the safehouse. There are so many ways he could choose to go about this, but he has no idea which method is going to get you to sit your ass down and stay out of the line of fire that you’re so set on heading into.
            You’re kneeling down lacing up your boots when you feel Bucky’s stare. You dare to glance across the living area, taking in the sight of him on the couch. He sits there with his feet spread on the floor and his elbows resting on his knees. His leather-gloved hands are clasped in front of him, hiding both flesh and vibranium from your gaze. The way he’s staring at you is enough to make you question your entire poorly thought-out plan, enough to make you want to kick your boots off and follow the stand-down order you received from SHIELD less than an hour ago.
            “Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, narrowing your eyes at him, trying to use some form of telepathy to get him to stop.
            “Why are you so set on doing this?” He responds with a question of his own. He leans back now, resting his back against the couch cushions. His eyes never leave you.
            “We’ve worked on this for months. If we stand down, if we don’t pull this off tonight, we won’t ever get another chance.” You remind him, rising to your feet and lifting your backpack up to sling it over one shoulder. Bucky’s quick to push himself off of the couch and cross the room, coming to stand a foot in front of you. He reaches for the backpack strap on your shoulder but you dodge his outstretched arm with ease. A look of annoyance spreads over his features and he ends up planting one hand on his hip while the other moves up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
            “So, what’s your plan then, huh? Go out there alone and get yourself killed because you don’t know how to follow orders?” Bucky’s tone displays every bit of exasperation he’s feeling. This is why he doesn’t like being in the field with you. You’re unpredictable and dangerous, you do things your own way no matter what anyone says. He can’t stand it.
            “That sounds about right, are you not okay with that?” You’re turning on your heel and gripping the door handle as the words leave your mouth. You’ve only tugged it open an inch when Bucky steps close behind you and flattens a gloved palm against the surface of the door, forcing it shut once more. He’s so close that his chest is brushing against your backpack and you can smell the faintest hint of his cologne. Your resolve crumbles more and more with every second that he stands this close to you. If he keeps this up, you’ll give in and let the target slip through right through your fingers.
            “I’m not letting you leave.” His tone indicates that he’s most definitely not bluffing. He keeps his hand against the door, his chest grazing your backpack, and his vibranium fist clenched at his side. You’re still, holding your breath, as your eyes follow Bucky’s right hand. He slides it slowly down the door until the material of his glove is gliding over the back of your hand that still holds the door handle. The touch feels so intimate, so intentional, and yet, it’s pissing you off more than anything. You don’t fight against him when he pulls your hand away from the handle, letting it fall down to your side. You watch as he turns the lock with a metallic click.
            Bucky thinks he’s won, he thinks he’s convinced you to put this insane plan aside. You didn’t swat his hand away when he touched yours, you didn’t even stop him when he locked the door. He’s feeling the tiniest bit of relief when you turn around in the small space that he’s given you between his body and the wooden door. He stands there looking down at you, noting the stormy look in your eyes and the palpable tension in the air.
            “I’m going.” His eyes dart down to your lips as you speak in a quieter voice than before. “You can physically try to stop me, or you can go with me.”  When he meets your gaze again, he imagines himself physically stopping you. He’s so much stronger, he has every advantage. He knows that you know that. But you also know that he won’t hurt you, you know that when presented with those two options, he’s going to take the latter.
            That’s how you end up parking the car down the street from a bustling, overcrowded bar. As you step out of the driver’s seat and shut the door, eyeing a few people stepping out of the bar a hundred feet ahead, you come to the conclusion that you need to change up your look to fit in here. You tug your hair out of its ponytail and run your fingers through it as you step up onto the curb. Bucky’s shutting the passenger side door when he sees you mussing up your hair and putting on a bit of lip gloss. He surveys the sidewalk ahead and notices the small group of people standing outside of the bar talking and laughing, then he looks back to you. It’s almost laughable to him that you think you have to change a damn thing about the way you look right now. You could be wearing a trash bag and missing your shoes and you’d still probably end up with a roster of men to choose from by the time you leave this place. The two of you fall into step next to each other, heading for the entrance slowly.
            “What’s our cover?” He asks lowly as you near a few bystanders on the sidewalk. You think for a second, knowing that whatever cover you choose is going to have to be good enough to get you to the office upstairs for at least a few minutes. All you need is the right moment to slip up the back stairs and find any piece of evidence with the target’s new alias on it. Just a name, it’s all you need here tonight. “Coworkers having a drink after work?”
            You notice the way a woman in the group of bystanders ahead seems to be mesmerized by the super soldier who walks beside you. Something about the way she stares, with her mouth practically watering at the sight of him, does something to you.
            “Take off your gloves.” You whisper, moving a little closer to him so your clothed arm brushes against his with each step you take.
            “What?”
            “Just this one.” You bump his gloved flesh hand with the side of your own, indicating that it’s the glove you want off. He shoots you a slightly confused sideways glance, but strips the glove off and shoves it in the pocket of his leather jacket. When he feels your arm push against the back of his own, and then the sensation of your warm palm meeting his softly, his fingers intertwine with yours as if it’s instinct, as if it’s second nature for him. You no longer have to answer his question about your covers.
            The woman who had previously been ogling Bucky quickly averts her eyes when she notices the way he’s holding your hand. But she notices more than you do. She notices more than just his fingers intertwined with yours. She notices the way he turns his head and looks down at you with a softened gaze, with a look that would never have given away the fact that you’re merely colleagues. She looked away because she knew she couldn’t compete with you in his eyes.
            When you’re past the group of people and nearing the door to the bar, you drop Bucky’s hand as you step forward and reach for the door, pressing his chest against your back, he reaches around you and grabs the handle first. He leans in close to you as he slowly tugs the door open.
            “Are you sure you want to do this?” He whispers the question against your ear, letting his breath fan along the side of your face. You can almost feel his lips grazing the shell of your ear and it sends a shiver down your spine. You only nod in response, which leads to him opening the door for you fully and following you inside the bar.
            Twenty minutes later, you find yourself in a dimly lit corner of the bar with your back against a brick accent wall and a glass in your right hand. More notably, Bucky finds himself caging you against that brick wall, with his still-gloved vibranium hand resting on the wall beside your head while he leans down and ghosts his nose and lips along your jawline, creating an image for you both. An image that says we’re in our own little world. The strategy has done two helpful things thus far: it’s made a good number of people avert their gaze due to the obvious public display of affection and it’s made for damn certain that no one would question the two of you making your way to the upstairs office for an activity that involves less clothing.           
            Bucky can’t quite wrap his head around what’s happening right now. You’re letting him press his lips against the skin of your neck, letting him trace your jawline with the tip of his nose, hell, you’re even letting him drag his teeth over your earlobe like you wouldn’t stop him if he decided to bite down on it to see what kind of noise you might make. He doesn’t know why he’s getting so lost in the meaningless actions, but he thinks it has something to do with your intoxicating scent, or maybe it’s the way your breaths come in a little quicker and your chest rises a little more, brushing against his, every time his lips graze over the newfound sweet spot beneath your ear. He’s actually grateful when you slide your free hand into the hair at the back of his head and tug him away from your neck. If you’d let him keep going, it might’ve affected the long-standing disdain he feels toward you. It might have.
            “I think we can make it upstairs and search the office.” You say, slightly breathless as you try to bring yourself back down to earth. You’re peering over Bucky’s shoulder at the scene of the bar, still full and busy. No one will think anything of the two of you heading down the hall toward the restroom. No one will even notice when you waltz right past the restrooms and enter the door to the back stairwell instead. You feel Bucky’s flesh hand wrap around your fingers on your glass. He takes it from your hand just as you’re looking up into his blue eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?” It’s the second time you’ve asked him that question tonight. You watch him closely as he takes the last sip of your drink, as if he doesn’t give a shit that your mouth has already been on the rim of the glass.
            “Do you really think these lowlifes won’t shoot us on the spot if they catch us kissing upstairs? They won’t even care if we’re there for the intel or not, they won’t wait to find out.”
            “I didn’t say we’d kiss.” You retort, letting your hand fall away from the back of his head. You rest your right palm against his chest and lean in close to him, putting distance between your back and the brick wall. You don’t pay attention to the way Bucky’s chest stops rising beneath your hand as your lips come unbearably close to his own. “We’ll do whatever we need to to sell it, to get out of here alive if we get caught up there.”
            Bucky watches as you give him a gentle shove and start heading away from him, down the hall leading to the restrooms and stairwell door. He thinks about grabbing you by your hair and pulling you back, telling you that this is dangerous and that there’s a reason this mission was sidelined earlier in the evening. As he sets the empty glass on a nearby table and starts following after you, his mind puts its own spin on the grabbing-you-by-your-hair idea. You’re passing by the restroom doors when he envisions a few other activities that would involve your hair wrapped around his fist. He has to shake his head to clear out the untoward thoughts, mentally kicking himself for stooping so low. Where is his head at tonight?
            Bucky had to use a bit of brute force to get the stairwell door open, and then he took on the role of a look-out while you carefully picked the lock to the office door. You’re on opposite sides of the room now, each of you searching through various filing cabinets and paper trails. Bucky’s starting to feel like the two of you are taking too much of a risk, spending too much time up here while being unable to find even a crumb of evidence. It isn’t until you move around to a desk against the back wall that you notice a small lockbox shoved beneath the piece of furniture.
            “Over here.” You whisper, pulling the small metal box out and setting it on top of the desk. Bucky’s next to you in an instant, inspecting the box as you fiddle with the lock. “I can probably get into it, just listen for anyone on the stairs.”
            The lockbox contained exactly what you needed and a little more. Instead of finding one new alias, you found two. You found two brand new passports with different fake names, but both with passport photos matching your target. Bingo. Bucky’s standing behind you, looking over your shoulder at the two passports. He reaches around you and plucks them from your hands, quickly using his phone to snap a picture of each before dropping them back in the box. You’re putting the lockbox back into place beneath the desk when you hear the sound of distant voices and the bottom stairwell door handle rattling. This would be about the time that your target’s security team is figuring out Bucky jammed the stairwell door back into place, rather than shutting it normally. He rightfully assumed it would make it harder for anyone to follow the two of you up here. Harder, but obviously not impossible. You feel adrenaline surge through your veins as you turn to face Bucky head-on, your eyes widening as he searches your expression for any indication of your next move. We’ll do whatever we need to to sell it. It’s as if your earlier words are echoing in the space between the two of you. One more second of looking into each other’s eyes seals it. Bucky’s sure he knows what you’re thinking. It’s why he tugs his shirt up a couple of inches and starts undoing his belt with nimble hands. It’s why he pushes a few items away from the surface of the desk to clear it off for you.
It’s why he looks so confused when you drop down to your knees at his feet.
“What are you doing?” He asks gruffly, his eyes darting from the still-closed door and then back to you. When his gaze settles on you, on the way you’re holding the perfect position with your knees on the floor and your ass resting on your feet, he feels something brewing inside of him. He feels something building low in his stomach when you tilt your chin up and look at him through your lashes, like getting on your knees for him is something you’d do any damn day of the week.
Fuck.
“Get up.” The words rush out of his mouth in a harsh whisper. He needs you to get up. He needs you to get up and stop looking up at him like you want something. He can’t handle seeing you like this. It’s fucking ruining him. You don’t make a single move to listen to his command, you don’t have any intention of getting up from where you sit on your knees.
Then, he groans. Bucky groans. It’s a smooth, low, rumbling sound that slips past his parted lips. It slips past his lips because the way your eyes are locked on his is giving him the most sinful thoughts, the most sinful feeling. He scrunches his eyes closed but it’s too late, he feels blood rushing to his cock, the velocity of the turbulent bloodflow aided by the super soldier serum that runs through his veins. His cock is fully erect before the bottom stairwell door has even opened yet. When Bucky opens his eyes again and dares to look down at the irresistible sight in front of him, the sound of the bottom stairwell door being forced open spurs him into action. He needs you on your feet and bent over the damn desk so you can pretend you’re using the office to fuck. It’s why he slides his flesh hand around the back of your head and grips your hair, fully intending to pull you up and push you over the edge of the desk himself.
The softest whimper escapes you as he tugs on your hair. As if it’s second-nature for you, your hands move to grip his thighs at the sensation spreading across your scalp. Bucky freezes with his fingers mixed in the soft locks of your hair and his eyes focused as he stares down at you. You fucking whimpered.
——
            This is one of the rare moments where Bucky’s thankful for his vibranium arm, rather than resentful of the stark reminder of his past. His metal digits are wrapped around the top of the steering wheel as he guides the car down the highway, skillfully weaving in and out of traffic to put distance between the two of you and the bar. Normally, he’d be driving with his dominant right hand, but he knows that if he was doing that, you’d notice the way his knuckles are white with tension. So, Bucky drives with his vibranium hand on the wheel and his flesh hand resting on his thigh.
            You’re, for the most part, blissfully unaware of the affect that you had on Bucky in the bar, of the affect that you continue to have on him now. As you sit in the passenger seat analyzing the pictures that Bucky snapped of the forged passports, you don’t notice his tense posture or clenched jaw, you don’t notice the tent in the front of his pants or the frustrated look on his face. Truthfully, even if you noticed any of those things, you wouldn’t question many of them. Being tense and frustrated is a normal state for the man.
            “I’m glad we got his aliases, even if I’ll probably be benched for it.” You say softly, as you lock your phone and drop it in your lap. Bucky shifts in the driver’s seat in an attempt to get a bit more comfortable while still concealing the bulge in his pants the best he can. He hopes you’ll be benched. You’re always so damn reckless, going against orders no matter who they come from and risking your safety just because you have no regard for your own life. A moment of charged silence goes by before you start to wonder why Bucky hasn’t even offered an annoyed sigh in response. “This might be the first time I’ve ever gotten the silent treatment after getting on my knees for a guy.”
            This time you notice the ticking muscle along the side of Bucky’s jaw. As more blood rushes to his cock, he wishes you hadn’t brought it up again. He also wishes you hadn’t made him imagine you being on your knees for anyone else, because that just pisses him off. 
            “Why was that your go-to move?” He asks suddenly. You’re still at least half an hour away from the safehouse you left earlier, so you’re glad he’s decided not to stick with the silent treatment.
            “What? Getting on my knees?” Bucky nods in response, but keeps his eyes trained on the dark, winding road ahead.
            “It seemed like the right thing to do.” You mumble, crossing your arms over your chest. It’s not like Bucky had made any move besides unbuckling his belt. What was he expecting you to do? Another moment of silence goes by before you decide to ask him. “What were you thinking?”
            “Not the same thing you were thinking.”
            “Clearly.” You huff. You steep in annoyance for a minute before resigning to dropping the issue entirely. If he hadn’t wanted you on your knees, he could’ve said more than the simple get up that he muttered as you were mere seconds away from being caught.
            “I was going to bend you over the desk.”
            “And you were pissed about me getting on my knees?” You let out a laugh and tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Hypocrite.”
            “My plan was more believable.” He mutters lowly, guiding the car into the left lane to move around a slower vehicle up ahead.
            “You don’t think a girl would get on her knees for a guy in a secluded area of some bar?” He doesn’t respond. It calls his confidence into question and suddenly you find yourself studying him from the passenger seat. With every passing second that he feels your gaze coasting over him, he prays you don’t let your eyes linger on his lap for too long. He has to know that there’s probably a plethora of women that would do exactly that for him. Does he really think it’s that unrealistic? “The girl we saw outside of the bar on the way in would’ve done that for you.”
            “What girl?” Bucky has no idea who you’re talking about. The only girl he was focused on outside of the bar was the one telling him to take off his glove so she could feel the skin of his hand. You scoff and roll your eyes.
            “How do you even survive in the field with such shitty observational skills?” Bucky’s growing tired of hearing your voice. He pushes the gas pedal down with a little more force, speeding around the car on the right. “She was staring at you.”
            As Bucky shifts his focus away from the argument that’s brewing between the two of you to getting back to the safehouse as swiftly as possible, he finds himself thinking about one single moment from tonight. When he tangled his hand in your hair and pulled on it, and instead of a reaction of pain or frustration on your end, all he got was your hands on his thighs and a sound of need, of want. You liked it. You liked it and he can’t figure out why that moment is burned into his brain. He wars within himself, telling himself to let it go, to bask in the tense silence for the rest of the drive. Bucky bites down on his bottom lip as he replays the moment, as he replays the sound in his head over and over. Refusing to let himself speak on the moment is what leads to trouble. It’s what leads to Bucky letting a deep breath pass between his lips, exhaling slowly as he decides to take a calculated risk.
            Bucky’s eyes never leave the road as his right hand moves from its resting place on his thigh and reaches over toward you. Not a single word leaves his lips as his vibranium hand remains locked on the steering wheel and his flesh hand slides between your head and the headrest. You’re frozen in the passenger seat, your eyes fluttering closed as his palm presses firmly against the back of your head. It feels as if his fingers are moving in slow motion when he curls them against your scalp, grabbing a fistful of your hair. Bucky’s thumb lightly circles over the side of your head, sending tingles all the way down to your toes. You don’t have a second to ask yourself what the fuck is happening, why his hand is in your hair for the second time tonight, why your body is letting it happen. You don’t have the ability to form a single coherent thought when his grip tightens and he tugs on your hair, forcing your head to tilt upward. You don’t even have the ability to stop your lips from parting, to stop the sharp inhale that fills the silence in the car.
            Bucky’s satisfied. Though his cock is hard as hell, straining painfully against the zipper of his jeans, he’s satisfied. He lets go of your hair as quickly as he first took hold of it, letting his hand move back to rest on his thigh.
            “My shitty observational skills picked up on how much you enjoyed having your hair pulled earlier.” Still, you have no words. You squeeze your thighs together as Bucky moves around yet another slow car taking up the right lane. You take a moment to look over at him, but he doesn’t turn to meet your gaze. Ever the safe and efficient driver, Bucky keeps his focus on the road ahead. His face looks emotionless, stoic. His body language though tense and brooding, doesn’t give off an air of uneasiness. It isn’t until your gaze coasts down that you notice the hard-on hidden in the shadows of his lap.
            “You liked pulling my hair, didn’t you?” He doesn’t respond. “You liked seeing me on my knees so much that you couldn’t stand the fact that it was fake. That’s why you wanted me to get up.” You accuse, watching him carefully. You see the way his jaw clenches again and you know you’re getting somewhere with him.
            “Watch it, you’re starting to sound a little full of yourself.” He warns. He can feel your eyes on the side of his face, studying him as he maintains his composure.
            “Oh, I’m sorry. You’d rather see me full of you, right?”
            Bucky doesn’t give any thought to his decision to take the next exit. It’s as if a dark haze clouded his judgment when you said what you said, when you made him think about you being full of him. The air between you is silent as he makes a right turn at the end of the off-ramp and steers the car into the mostly empty parking lot of a supermarket. With tensions rising, you take a deep breath and think about how this might be your last night in the field with the grumpy super soldier who’s always been so hellbent on doing the opposite of everything you would do. You should be almost relieved that you’re going to be benched for a while, that you won’t have to deal with his attitude and authoritative tendencies. So, why do you feel a bit sad about it? Why do you feel like you’re losing something?
            Bucky parks the car but stays seated, staring straight ahead at the darkened supermarket entrance.
            “I hate working with you.” He says suddenly. His expression is unreadable as you study the side of his face, as he continues staring ahead.
            “I—”
            “Let me finish.” He cuts you off. His tone alone is effective in shutting you up, and you press your lips together. Bucky runs a hand through his hair and lets out a sigh before turning to meet your gaze. His eyes flit down to your lips briefly, so briefly that you think you might’ve imagined it. He wants them, your lips. He wants them in so many ways. On his own, on his skin, on his cock. He has to remind himself to focus. “I hate working with you. You do stupid shit, you take big risks, you don’t like to listen to anyone but yourself.”
            Bucky’s eyes roam down to the exposed skin of your neck. He wants to kiss you there again, to drag his tongue along the column of your throat and make you tense up.
            “After tonight, once Fury finds out you went against direct orders, you aren’t going to be in the field for a while.”
            Bucky lets his gaze travel further down, coming to focus on your hands that rest in your lap. Such small hands, he thinks. He liked the way your palm felt against his when your fingers were intertwined earlier tonight. He liked it a little too much.
            “I’m going to be able to breathe knowing you’re not out there doing everything you can to get yourself killed.”
            His words set off a burning sensation in your chest. You feel your cheeks heating up, turning a soft shade of pink, as he looks into your eyes once again.
            “I can’t fucking breathe when you do stupid shit. Do you know what that’s like? Not being able to breathe?” He questions. You swear you see his black pupils darken impossibly more, dilating to hide more of his blue irises. You swallow hard before slowly, shaking your head. “I would’ve thought you’d know what that’s like, with the way you got on your knees earlier.”
            He can’t keep looking at you, not when you’re being so fucking obedient, keeping your mouth shut and listening to him say his piece. Bucky closes his eyes and leans back in his seat, pressing his head against the head rest and tilting his face up slightly. It’s quiet for a moment, but instead of the tension dissipating after he’s said what he needed to say, after he got it off of his chest, the air seems to be growing thicker, more electrically charged. He hears the soft sound of your seatbelt unbuckling and sliding away from your lap and chest. He hears the flutter of a few strands of your hair being tucked carefully behind your ear on one side.
            When your right palm ghosts over his thigh, right above his knee, he doesn’t move a muscle. You tread carefully, watching his lack of a reaction as you press your palm flat against the fabric of his jeans and start dragging your hand slowly up his lower thigh. He takes a deep breath, but keeps his head tilted upward and his eyes closed. When your hand reaches his upper thigh, your fingertips brush along the bulge straining beneath his seatbelt.
            Bucky’s clenching his jaw as you pull your hand away from him and press the release button on his seatbelt. You guide it away from his chest before using that same hand to trail down the front of his shirt. By hooking one finger in the belt looped through the waistband of his jeans, you’ve chosen your fate for this moment.
            Bucky’s eyes snap open and he looks at you with a mix of frustration and pure lust.
            “Show me what it’s like.” Your voice comes out in a tantalizing whisper as you drag the tip of your index finger along the ridge of his belt, looking up at him through your lashes.
            “What what’s like?” He narrows his eyes at you. Bucky knows exactly where you’re going with this, exactly what you’re going to say next. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get to hear the words fall from your lips.
            “Not being able to breathe.”
NEXT PART
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@sunnyhummingbee @gyokujyn @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13 @ordelixx @crist1216 @twlkdead @claireelizabeth85 @charmedbysarge @blackhawkfanatic @kentokaze @eecummingsandgoings @nyashonality @h2oaffirmations @sadeyes61 @aka-tua-braindump @immortalfangirl @valenftcrush @andrometda @sillysillygoose444
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rafecameroninterlude · 3 months
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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!kook!reader
summary: rafe surprises you on your birthday
warnings: best friends brother, sarah being the worst friend ever (what else is new?), crying, firting over the phone, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, unprotected sex
word count: 2.8k
a/n: i’ve seen your comments and ik y’all want reader to stick up for herself against sarah, so don’t worry that’s in the works!! i’ve been feeling a little sick but i’m going to try to keep up with requests as best as i can <3 mini series masterlist can be found here
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“is everything okay?” ignoring the fact that sarah just cancelled your plans, on your birthday, you refused to hang up the phone without getting a conversation that lasted less than two minutes. “w-what do you mean?” you heard the faint sound of someone laughing in the background, a door shutting loudly on the other line. “you’ve never missed any of my birthdays, and tonight you cancel after reassuring me all week that you’d see me? not to mention two weeks ago when we were supposed to go on the druthers, you said you’d be back home later, but you never showed.” you hated how you sounded like a concerned parent more than a friend, but right now you just wanted answers.
“everything is fine, y/n,” sarah scoffed, “i mean, seriously, i’ve just been busy, alright?” you don’t know if you should feel relieved that she’s fine, or hurt because she’s obviously not interested in talking to you right now. with ward, rose, and wheezie out of the house for the summer, there was no valid explanation as to why she goes days, sometimes weeks without being home. unless of course, rafe was right about her spending all her time on the cut. “have you been staying on the other side of the island?” you couldn’t help but ask, the question lingering in your mind since rafe mentioned it two weeks ago. “oh, my god! do i have to tell you everything? you’re worse than topper.” she hung up before you could say anything else.
what the fuck?
she’s acting as if she has never been like this before. was it a crime that you were worried about your best friend who you haven’t seen in three weeks? sarah once showed up to your house at three in the morning because you sent a crying emoji instead of a laughing one. it’s hard to think about, the person she was then, versus now. you felt your eyes stinging, your vision getting blurry as the tears threatened to overflow. god, this was pitiful. if someone told you that you’d be here, your hair and makeup done for the gods, holding back tears because of sarah, you wouldn’t believe them. the amount of things that have changed this past month was starting to crash down on you at once.
with sarah gone, and your parents away for their anniversary trip, the last thing you wanted to do was wander in a party by yourself. ultimately deciding to stay in for the night, you laid out your pajamas, about to unzip your dress before your phone rang. unknown caller. “hello?” there was a few beats of silence, “y/n?” your heart fluttered instantly. “hey, rafe.” you sniffled, trying to clear any indication that you’ve been keeping yourself from crying. “what are you doing tonight?” his voice turned rough. “i was just about to get in my pajamas.. why?” he cleared his throat, a small seed of hope burying itself in your chest. “let’s go to mine. i have something for you.” as if you couldn’t smile any harder, you could count on rafe to beat the odds. “what if i said no?” you teased, knowing you could never say that to him.
“then i’d have to go home to an empty house and no birthday girl to give birthday dick to.” you sighed dreamily, eyes glancing up at your ceiling. “aren’t you the gentlemen?” you got up, thankful to see that none of your makeup smudged. “so where are you right now?” you reapplied your lip gloss, running a brush through your hair for the final time. “outside your house.” you paused. “are you really?” you peeked outside your window, a black truck sitting out front. “i’ll be right out.” you hung up, screaming excitedly, grabbing your purse before making your way outside. rafe met you half way, picking you up and putting you in the passenger seat.
“you’re telling me you were about to change out of this?” his hands rested on your hips, your head leaning against the seat. “yeah, but i rather you take it off of me instead.” he smiled, pulling you into a kiss. “i rather do that too.” he shut the door, the car ride back to his house consisting of him making you laugh. “why’s it so dark in here?” rafe lead you upstairs, skipping past his room. “where are we going..” you stopped in your tracks. “ward’s room?” you shook your head, feeling like you were trespassing in some weird way. “don’t worry, keep walking.” he opened the doors to the balcony, the breath being sucked right out of your lungs.
a small cake with pink frosting and the number twenty in gold accents sat in a little box on top of the table, a vase full of your favorite flowers right next to it. “how..” you turned around, rafe rubbing his hands against his jeans. “i knew it was your birthday today, which explains the cake, and i may or may not have stalked your instagram highlights for any flowers i could find.” you blinked, throwing yourself in his arms. “this means so much to me, rafe. thank you.” you let out a shaky breath, your emotions getting the best of you once he pulled back to cup your face. “hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he sat you down, his eyes flickering between yours. “i just wasn’t expecting any of this, i’m just really grateful that’s all.” you smiled.
rafe nodded, pulling a small gift bag from under the table. “i really want to see you open this.” he placed the bag in your lap, giving you a reassuring nod when you looked at him. with shaky hands, you removed the pink tissue paper, a velvet box revealing itself at the bottom. rafe adjusted in his seat, his eyes frantically moving between you and the gift. “rafe..” you opened the box, immediately being met with probably the best gift you’ve ever received. “i’ve heard you talk about this a lot, so i figured why not?” he shrugged, “do you like it?” he watched you pick up the silver bookmark, the words ‘pretty girl’ imprinted in cursive lettering on the back.
“i love it..” you truly had no other words. placing it gently inside the box, you got up, rafe pulling you on top of him, both of you smiling into a kiss. how did he know how to do this? make you feel special and wanted and appreciated all at the same time? you deepened the kiss, his hand squeezing your thigh. “should we cut the cake?” you hummed, shaking your head, “let’s save it for after.” rafe pulled away. “after what?” his hand snaked around your neck, “after you give me birthday dick, your words.” you yelped when he suddenly yanked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you inside. “can i confess something?” he walked through the dark hallway, basically kicking open his room door.
you nodded, leaving a trail of kisses across his neck. once he laid you down, he took off his flannel, his biceps flexing under the small light emitting from his bathroom. “i’ve been reduced to fucking my hand every night since we had sex on the druthers. “all i could think about these past couple of weeks is how perfect you look under and on top of me,” he spoke quietly, “have you been thinking about it too?” his shirt was next to go, and the harder it was to resist from moaning at the sight of him. “yes,” you sat up, pulling him down to sit at the edge of his bed, “..that night replays in my head everyday.” settling between his legs, your fingers worked at getting his belt off.
“but the thought occurred to me one night;” you slid his belt out of the loops of his jeans, “you’ve tasted me already, but i haven’t tasted you.” as if on cue, you placed his belt next to him, using his knees to anchor yourself back on your feet. he groaned, watching as you moved your hair to the side. “take my dress off?” you turned around, unknowingly facing the mirror on his wall. without hesitation, he unzipped your dress, his eyes growing dark as he looked at your shared reflection. “nothing underneath?” this was a bold move for you, so you were more than happy to see how much he liked the idea of you walking around, ready for him to take you at anytime.
“nope, just wanted to save you the time.” you smiled, his hands cupping your tits, a soft gasp escaping from your lips. “we have all the time in the world.” he gently bit the skin of your neck, spinning you around. he pulled you down with him, your hips straddling his as you unbottoned his jeans. “i like your makeup,” rafe’s rubbed his palms on your thighs, “such a shame it’s gonna get ruined.” you smiled, rafe sitting up to kiss you roughly. kneeling on the floor, rafe held your hair back as you looked up at him, palming his cock through his briefs. “you gonna let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours?” he grunted, your eyes fluttering, “mhmm.” you hummed, rafe extending his hand out in front of your mouth.
“spit, baby.” he commanded. doing as he said, you laid your head on his lap, watching as he started stroking himself, both of you gazing at eachother with heated stares. “please, rafe.” he moaned, his head lolling to the side. he was still tugging on your hair, the stinging sensation shooting down your spine. he stood up, discarding the last article of clothing keeping you from being fucked into oblivion. you opened your mouth for him, a string of curse words tumbling out as his tip met your tongue. “oh, fuck,” be gritted his teeth. you straightened up, making sure to keep your eyes on his, a moan rumbling in your throat as he pushed further.
rafe licked his lips, his chest rising and falling as you started bobbing your head. if you had to be on your knees just to see the way he fell apart with your mouth alone, you’d do it all night if he asked you to. your eyes started to water, rafe smiling at the sight. “tap me if you need to.” he pulled out, thrusting back in once you nodded. fuck. your hands flew out, holding the back of his knees as he tugged at your hair, hard. “you’re taking it so fucking good,” his muscles constricted, your pussy clenching around nothing. the only word you could think of to describe the noises in this room was obscene.
heavy breathing, gasping and moaning, even an occasional whimper when you swallowed around his cock. “y/n-” he shook his head, his eyes rolling back just as you patted his leg. rafe stopped all movements, pulling out of your mouth with a wet pop. “i don’t want you to cum yet,” you stood up, your knees beet red as he pressed his thumb against your bottom lip. “yeah? want me to fill you up instead?” his words went straight to your core, a single tear drop rolling down your cheek. “yes.” your voice was hoarse as he laid you down, your arms wrapping around his neck to kiss him.
rafe teased your entrance before sliding between your folds, his cock rubbing against your clit. you shivered at the contact, your hips chasing his in order to get more friction. “it’s going to be hard to stop doing this, you know,” rafe looked down at you. “i wouldn’t care about sarah’s opinion on this, and i don’t think you should either.” he stared at you intensely as you pondered over his words. “you wouldn’t care about her opinion on us having sex? or..” your heart was racing, hoping he’d pick up on what you were insinuating. “well, that too, but i mean something more, more than us just sneaking around.” you met his eyes, a small smile gracing your lips.
“are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” rafe laughed. “no- well, yes, but not formally yet, i want to do that the right way, not when you’re under me waiting for me to fuck you.” you bit your lip, nodding your head. you could never get used to how good his body felt on top of yours, your toes curling as he pinned down your thighs. “you’re so fucking beautiful,” he kissed your temple, “this pussy was made for me.” rafe slammed into you once you settled into his sheets, a strangled cry ripping itself from your throat. it didn’t help that rafe was already filling you to the hilt, but watching his mouth fall open, and his eyebrows knit together was just as rewarding.
any concept of time was lost when you were with him, but you knew you didn’t want this to end. you loved how intimate rafe was, swallowing your moans with every kiss, massaging your thighs when he would thrust into you particularly hard, he was so good at this, you couldn’t even think straight by the time you were teetering the edge of pure bliss. “rafe, don’t stop.” you held onto his frame, his fingers circling your clit as you felt the pit of your stomach drop. “o-oh, my god,” you shook in his hold. “rafe!” you gasped. “i know,” he moaned, “fucking hell, i know.” his hips stuttered as he cummed, his eyes screwing shut while he emptied himself inside of you.
he took your lips, still thrusting slowly as he steadied you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. eventually he came to a stop, both of you laying under the sheets. “did you mean what you said earlier?” you rolled over, facing rafe as he sighed sleepily. “about being something more? yes.” you smiled as rafe took your hand in his, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. “should we go for that cake?” you asked. “that sounds so good right now.” both of you got up, sharing the sheets as cover, about to leave the room until your phone started ringing. rafe was quick to pick it up from the floor, his jaw ticking as he looked at the screen.
“who is it?” you reached out, rafe blocking your attempt to grab your phone. “it’s sarah.” he declined the call, tossing your phone on the bed behind him. “come on, let’s go get that cake.” he ushered you towards the door before you stopped him. “it’s nearly three in the morning, rafe. she could be in trouble.” he stared at you for a moment, sighing as he nodded his head. “alright.” he stepped away. you pressed sarah’s contact, putting the call on speaker. she picked up after the third ring. “y/n?” you knew that voice. after fourteen years of being best friends, you knew when she was crying, even when she wasn’t in front of you.
“what’s wrong sarah, are you okay?” you stole a glance at rafe, ignoring the roll of his eyes. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry y/n. i haven’t been a good friend, and i’ve been keeping so much from you, my family… topper, i can’t handle all the lies anymore.” you felt yourself growing with empathy, rafe taking hold of your arm. “don’t fall for that shit!” he whispered. “i didn’t even tell you happy birthday!” sarah sobbed, “please let me make this up to you.” you don’t know why, but you looked up at rafe, who was shaking his head. taking a deep breath, you racked your brain for what you should do.
the fact that you had sarah on the phone, while standing in rafe’s room, naked at that, you felt like you were betraying one of them with either answer you gave. if you told sarah yes, then it would be like a slap to the face for rafe, but if you told sarah no, you’d be throwing away a friendship that grew into a sisterhood over the years. “we could have a movie night. for old times sake.” she sniffled, your own tears starting to well in your eyes. “y/n.” rafe stroked your hair. this wasn’t easy, at all. “okay.” you regretted it as soon as you said it, rafe’s hand falling to his side. “okay, that sounds good.” it pained you to see the way rafe was looking at you right now.
“friday at eight?” you gave her a quick ‘yes, i’ll see you.’ hanging up shortly afterwards. “rafe-” he slipped into some shorts, walking out of the room without a word. there was no winning in this situation. you plopped down on the bed, still wrapped in rafe’s sheets as you sat in silence. after about five minutes, rafe walked in with two plates of cake. he handed you one, sitting down next to you. “i won’t hold it against you,” he spoke up, “i just wish you could see what she’s doing.” you licked some frosting off of your finger. “i’m sorry.” you leaned your head on his shoulder. rafe hummed, “don’t be. i’ll let you find out by yourself, and i’ll be there with an extra plate for you when you do.” he rubbed your thigh.
you laughed to yourself. “thank you.”
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Baby Blues || Young President!Coriolanus Snow x reader
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Summary: motherhood has not been kind to you, neither has Coriolanus.
Warnings: r is implied to be young, toxic, mean Coryo, r experiencing post-partum depression,
Wc: 794
A/n: I’m always gravitating to write these type of coryo fics for some reason…. I hope you like them! Apologies for lack of Tom Blyth/Coryo content, I promise I have some coming!!
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You sat in the sunroom, the weight of your 5 month old daughter on your hip, while Coriolanus read his newspaper, seemingly unfazed by his daughter’s cries that filled the room.
Your hands shakily pick up the delicate china tea cup, bringing it to your lips and taking few sips.
You stared at nothing in particular, feeling the weight of both youth and motherhood. You subconsciously start to bounce your leg, all while your daughter wails in your arm, begging for attention from her own mother.
Coriolanus sips at his black coffee, trying his best to drown out the cries as he tried to focus his attention back on his newspaper. Your concerned servant in the room exchanged worried glances with Coriolanus, and finally, he glances at you, frustration etched on his face.
“Y/n, tend to her,” he instructed, irritation evident in his voice. “Don’t just sit there like a mad woman, do something,” He hissed as your gaze moved to him. Your eyes seemingly empty as you stare at his icy blue ones.
At an attempt to soothe her down, you stand up to bounce her on your hip, hushing her. Your daughter’s cries only intensified, drawing Coriolanus to his feet.
The rustle of the newspaper ceased as he took his daughter into his arms. Almost magically, her cries subsided in the secure embrace of her father. A wave of inadequacy washed over you as you witnessed his effortless ability to calm her.
~
You stand infront of the large floor to ceiling window that overlooked your courtyard, gazing blankly at the last few socialites leaving the presidential mansion after a soirée that Coriolanus hosted.
Your once vibrant, youthful eyes now dull, overshadowed by the weight of motherhood. Coriolanus, sat on one of the chairs, watches you from where he was. “You’ve been standing there for about 20 minutes, sit,” He says, gesturing to the seat beside him as you turn your head, lightly biting your lips before moving.
“It’s like you were in another world tonight, what ever is the matter with you now?” Coriolanus remarks, frustration edging his tone.” You feign a smile, “I’m just tired, Coryo. That’s all,” but your eyes betray the facade, revealing a profound weariness that transcends mere fatigue.
“You always seem tired,” Coryo scoffs. Your gaze flickers towards the nanny, cradling your daughter in her arms. Your heart aches with a mixture of guilt and relief as you observe the bond forming between them.
Coriolanus’s gaze follows your eye line, “Perhaps you’ve been focusing too much on your duties and not enough on our daughter,” He suggests, unaware of the storm raging within you.
“I’m doing my best, Coryo,” you respond, voice barely audible as Coriolanus lets out a tired sigh, massaging his forehead.
The baby’s cries cut through the air, and you flinch as if struck—something Coriolanus observed. He glances at you, a mixture of annoyance and concern etched across his features.
“Can’t you tend to our daughter? You’re her mother, after all.” You nod absentmindedly, standing up and making your way toward the source of the cries.
The nanny, a woman just a couple years younger than yourself, hands over your daughter, a look of sympathy etched on her face.
You clear your throat, feeling Coriolanus’ eyes on you. You cradle her awkwardly, attempting to soothe her, but your efforts were feeble. Coriolanus observes, frustration simmering beneath the surface.
“You’re always like this. Will you always treat our child as if she’s a stranger?” He spat, and you bit your lip, glancing down at your daughter whose features closely mirrored yours, except for her eyes and blonde hair.
Your eyes well up with unshed tears, swiftly wiped away. “I just… just need time, Coriolanus. I’ll adjust,” you stammer, seeking to reassure your husband and, more importantly, convincing yourself that you will.
Nearly half a year has passed since you gave birth to her. Skillfully, you’ve evaded numerous public appearances with your daughter, fully aware of the pervasive curiosity surrounding your role as a mother.
You were aware of their judgments. The notion that you were too young to be a mother echoed in your mind, a sentiment you shared as you gazed at yourself in the mirror, your stomach swollen with the imminent arrival of a child into the world.
Coriolanus sighs, a blend of disappointment and impatience coloring his tone. “Pull yourself together, for both our sakes. The people want to see their First Lady and my heir. You can’t keep hiding away. There are already whispers going around,” he admonishes sharply, and you gulp, your baby cradled in your arms as you turn to face him.
Coriolanus couldn’t deny the noticeable change in you since giving birth. When he married you, the youthful aura enveloped you, a stark contrast to the transformation he now witnessed.
The aura had dissipated entirely. Despite your youth, you appeared to have weathered a lifetime. Fatigue etched into your eyes, weariness evident in your mental state.
“It’s wise for you to step back from the public eye for a while, away from your duties. You need to rest,” Coriolanus states firmly, his gaze fixed on the world beyond the window.
Your gaze shifts to your baby in your arms, her doe-blue eyes locking onto yours. Unaware, Coriolanus discreetly signals the nanny to take your daughter.
Caught off guard, you hesitated when she reached for your child, desiring to hold her longer. Reluctantly, you allowed her to take the little one. With a heavy heart, you observed the nanny exit the room, and Coriolanus broke the silence, reassuring you, “Don’t worry about her; go rest.” Slowly, you nodded in agreement.
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