#mean ass bitch x bitch that can't spell

[thatonefananticinclass]

#togakure #danganronpa #yasuhiro hagakure #byakuya togami #Dr1 #gay mlm #yasuhiro x byakuya #hiro x byakuya #hagakure x togami #capcut #himbo x rich bitch #mean ass bitch x bitch that can't spell #wholesome #wholesome danganronpa #pickles

[alphabetboyluvr]

NIGHT CRAWLERS - JJK

title credit: night crawlers - kids in glass houses

pairing: drugrunner!jungkook x sugarbaby!reader, college au

synopsis:

jungkook’s always been good at running. track, field, red lights, shit outta luck. drugs, now, too. but he doesn’t expect to run into you. in your shared lecture halls, sure. maybe. but not down the back alleys of daerim at ass o’clock in the morning. there are only three types of women he ever sees in daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. you aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. he's sure of it. so it then further begs the question: why the fuck are you here?

warnings: jungkook and o/c are polar opposites, but y’know what they say, opposites attract and all that jazz, jk is a college student but also a drug runner, mentions of gang dynamics and hierarchy, oc is a sugar baby, mentions of consensual but uncomfortable sexual encounters as a result of this (proceed with caution), drugs, violence, blood, motorbikes, hurt/comfort, all the good stuff, smut – fingering, tittie sucking (wow pretend to be shocked!), unprotected sex, jk has the hugest cawk in the whole entire world, jk is a lil aggressive but in a sexy way, he accidentally says something mean during sex (not sexy mean, actually mean (he makes up for it tho!)), jk on top, oc on top, mentions of his pubes (yummy), tummy pressing, kissy kissy kissy koo, creampie, post-coitus nap, they’re literally in love idk what to tell you, ambiguous ending!!

wordcount: 26K

note from holly: originally published to wattpad in 2021 and also briefly uploaded to tumblr, too. It’s just hit 100k reads over on wattpad so I thought I’d put it here too!! There are two additional chapters on wattpad, connecting the story another fic of mine and also showing us jk + oc four years on from the events of NC!! If you’re interested, you can find it here (x).

i write in british english!! both in spelling and dialect!!

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

IT'S BEEN SAID that with great notoriety, comes great responsibility to uphold the expectations of those who presume the worst about you.

Okay, so that's a lie. No one's ever said that - but Jeon Jungkook has never been one for sticking to traditions, and so he likes to live his life as if that's his motto.

That, and 'rather be dead than cool.'

Which is ironic, because it's only the heteropatriarchal bores - the ones from upper-class families, who want a white picket fence and 2.4 kids - that actually think he's lame.

And he doesn't particularly give a shit about their opinions.

Everyone else thinks he's actually pretty fuckin' cool.

Black nails, black cargo pants, black hair that waves loosely over his sharp features. An air of command as he walks, a swagger in his step that lingers in stranger's heads like the silage of his aftershave.

Yeah, Jungkook is cool, and he fucking knows it.

A rucksack is perpetually slung over his shoulder, the top concaved slightly to indicate there's very little in there, not much more than a tatty notepad and a few loose pens - or so you assume.

You've never actually spoken to him. Why would you?

Daddy's little princess, glossy lips, manicured nails. The kind of girl who gives him a second look, but only to sneer. He doesn't think of you often, but when he does, it's never nice.

Jungkook doesn't have time for you, and you don't have time for him. Your paths rarely cross.

At least they barely crossed. Past tense. 

Now that you're taking a few of the same classes as him, he sees you a lot more than he likes. Hair always up in that stupid fucking ponytail that he can't see past, perpetually on your phone. Attention seeking little bitch.

He'd ranted a little to Jimin about it, told him that you really must have been a dumb bitch to swap from an economics major to a film studies major with only a single semester left.

Jimin hadn't said much in return. Unlike Jungkook and his insatiable hate-boner for you, Jimin really doesn't give a shit about you. Barely knows your name, let alone the fact that you studied economics before switching over. Was kind of curious as to how Jungkook knew that. Not enough to bother with asking, though.

Jungkook thinks it's normal to scope out the competition. A little Facebook look-up, Naver search, Instagram scroll. Surely it's rational to do that? Check out their LinkedIn, cross-reference their Twitter history to see what they've said about the course.

It absolutely isn't normal, but then again, nor is Jungkook.

He's exactly as he appears to be; the rogue look isn't a front.

But beneath the exterior, there are a few more traditions he's subverting. 

He's the first in his family to attend college, and he needs to ace this class to keep his scholarship.

It's all just projection, the way he despises you.

You've got everything he wants. A well-to-do family, money, prosperity, financial security. He's never known that. And while he shits on you for having parents that have provided for you, all he wants in life is to be able to do the same for his own children one day.

"I've matched you all with students of a similar grade level, so no one is at an unfair advantage," your professor calls out, tearing Jungkook from his thoughts. "Not a single one of you will experience the city in the same way. From shortcuts to your favourite coffee spots, your lives here will have been different to those of your peers."

Jungkook smirks, leaning back on his chair. He knows this city better than most; its dark corners, where the monsters lurk... how to hide and where to run.

Again, the rogue look isn't a front.

But he also knows how to work a camera better than anyone in that room, how to time his shots, how to frame them, too. Top of the class, though modestly quiet about it (he's got a reputation to uphold, after all), he's curious to see who would be considered an even match for him.

"That being said, your experiences are also shared with those around you. For this assignment, with your partner, I want you to create a unique piece of film that captures what the city means to you. Think outside the box. Create something that excites, that invokes. You've got eight weeks. The partner list is on the noticeboard at the back of the hall. Dismissed."

Footsteps echo around the lecture hall as everyone trundles out of the room. You wait back, having already seen the list before you entered the class.

Instead, you pull out a pen - one of the ones that Jungkook hates, with a ridiculous fluffy pink pom-pom on top - and jot down your number. You aren't aware of his insatiable hatred, and either way, you don't really care.

He ignores you as you approach his desk, eyes only drifting upwards when you slide the torn-out piece of paper towards him.

"Mhmm?"

He's rude, you notice. Brows raised, expression flat, he's fed up with you before you've even said a word. Kinda hot, admittedly, but rude.

"We're partners," you say with an ambivalent shrug. Jungkook's jaw seems to tense, head tilting as he breathes out a short smirk.

Partners?

"You haven't even gone out to check the board."

"So what?" You scoff a little. He doesn't like your tone. The feeling is mutual. "I just made it up?"

It's his turn to shrug, now. "Dunno. You tell me."

His hair waves around his features, and you wonder how long it takes him to make it look so natural. The girls around campus swoon over his hair, like he's some kind of God. Other boys try to emulate it, but they can never quite pull it off like he does.

Another thing that all the girls giggle about are his doe-like eyes, but they're hard, now. Narrow, almost. Less of a doe, more like a dragon. Maybe if you get his nostrils flaring, he'll breathe fire, too.

Yeah, he's hot, you want to laugh to yourself, but not that hot.

"I checked before I came in. Didn't take a genius to work out what it was for."

He takes a moment before he nods. "Right. Well, you should probably know that I work better alone. Just let me handle the assignment, a'right? You can put your name on it, whatever, I don't care. Just let me handle it."

A control freak, you note. Nice.

You didn't transfer majors in your last semester, and face all the hardships that came with such a decision, just to sit back and let someone else do the hard work for you.

"With all due respect, it's a joint assignment. I'm not putting my name on work I didn't actually do."

A stickler for the rules, he assesses. Fucking fastastic.

"Look," he sighs, adjusting his body so that he's practically leaning halfway over his desk. As much as it sounds like he doesn't want to be a part of this conversation, his body language is oddly engaged. "I need to ace this class. You've been here, what? All of three minutes? Film what you wanna film, send it over to me for editing."

"I'm very much capable of editing-"

"And if you could do me a favour and keep the nail salon footage to a minimum, that would be much appreciated. Everyone's seen that shit. It's not interesting. Gangnam underground shopping centre B-roll, too."

It's a thinly veiled insult. Assumptions he's making about you based on the clothes you wear and the company you keep. He doesn't explicitly say it, but you know what he means: you're not interesting.

Jungkook doesn't mean to be an asshole. Not really. He's just got a lot riding on this course, and doesn't want to risk it all for the sake of keeping the peace with someone he doesn't particularly like in the first place.

"Like our Professor said, we all experience the city differently," you plaster a smile on your face, the plastic kind that Jungkook hates. "You might just be surprised at what I can offer."

Private tennis clubs and shopping sprees worth more than a second-hand car? Yeah, no. He'll pass, thanks.

"Whatever," he reclines back, giving your number the once over before tearing a strip of empty paper from the bottom of the note. His hand moves quickly, scrawling his own number onto it. He doesn't hand it to you, but instead tosses it down onto the desk as he stands. "As I said, I work best alone. Don't bombard me with messages about the project. I'll have it under control."

He vacates his desk with an air of arrogance that you don't think he's yet earnt. Sure, he's hot, and from what you've seen of his work, he's pretty talented, too. But no one likes working with assholes, and the whole point of being at college was to make yourself a desirable candidate for jobs.

Or at least that's what your parents had always said.

When they were still talking to you, that was.

Before they decided that you're a disgrace to the family name, all for the simple desire of not wanting to spend your life slaving over finances and spreadsheets.

Like inheritance and a slightly crooked nose (straightened out for your high school graduation gift), econ majors ran in your family - and just like you'd cut off your parents' dream of watching you become an economist, they'd cut you off. Full stop.

So as far as you were concerned, Jungkook could take his arrogant whining about your financial situation, and the hobbies you might have enjoyed as a result of your upbringing, and shove it up his ass.

You really wish he would. Shove it up his ass, that is. Might relieve him of the pent up tension he seems to have going on.

Swiping up his number, you tuck it into your back pocket, ruing the day you'll actually have to text it.

It comes as a surprise to both of you when, a week later, Jungkook is the first to type a message into your fledgeling chat window.

I'm filming tonight. Could use a Grip, if you're free. Dongdaemun Design Plaza, 7pm.

You wonder how much pride he must have had to swallow in order to send you that. 

On occasion, during the past week, you've caught him looking at you in that slightly menacing way he always likes to do.

Part of you thinks he's unaware that he's doing it, just zoning out in your direction, but then you see him shake sense into himself - quite literally, a bunny with an itch behind its ear kind of shake - before he averts his gaze. 

He does a similar shake of his head when your response pings through to his phone.

Can't do Tuesdays or Thursdays. Sorry. Maybe another time.

He doesn't reply.

REJECTION HAS NEVER been something Jungkook has taken well. It's why he works so hard, fearful of being told that he isn't good enough.

He'd only sent that text because he genuinely did need a Grip.

Well, no. 

That's not quite right. 

He needed a muse; a subject of his shots, a pair of eyes to catch the confetti of night market lights in. Someone's hand to film as they exchanged money with a hotteok stand server, another human to get lost and found all within the same shot.

But that felt awkward to ask, especially after his insistence that he could do it all alone, so he'd settled for pretending he'd needed a grip. Just someone to hold his gear while he took tricky shots. That's all.

Given your rejection, he was pleased with his choice.

"Familiar," Yoongi nods over lunch the next day, following Jungkook's gaze. "Yeah, I've definitely seen her around. Dunno where, though."

"Campus, maybe?" Jimin rolls his eyes, confused at the fixation Jungkook seems to have on you.

Yoongi shakes his head. "Nah... She looks like-" he glances over to Jungkook conscious of Jimin's listening ears.

"Like?"

"Just like a girl I see occasionally," Yoongi pauses again, making sure Jungkook's focus on him. "At work."

Jimin laughs. "So yeah, on campus. You work in the campus cafe, Yoongs."

It was the only legitimate place that would hire him. Dumb choices as a kid - and a questionable nickname that's now etched into his knuckles - prevents most places from seeing him as a viable candidate.

Yoongi laughs along with Jimin, but Jungkook knows Yoongi isn't talking about the once a week shift that he picked up as a form of extra credit.

Jungkook knows, because on paper, he doesn't have a job either.

On paper, he manages to survive on his scholarship bursary, The Holangi Honour, awarded to gifted students from underprivileged backgrounds.

On paper, Jungkook is the Korean dream of hard work and perseverance.

His reality isn't so pristine, but it never has been. He comes from a long line of high school dropouts with dubious morals and criminally reckless career choices. It was naive to have thought attending university would help him escape it.

Scholarship funds dried up pretty quickly, rent and t-money cards eating away at it, until Jungkook had no choice but to revisit old haunts.

Yoongi had told Jungkook that he didn't need to worry, that he could help him out if he needed money, but Jungkook was no leech, much to his older friend's despair. He didn't want the kid getting into the same trouble that he was in.

One meeting with Yoongi's old school friend, Hoseok and Jungkook was in the rat race again, delivering people's come ups for when the sun went down. 

He'd always been good at running. Track, field, red lights, out of luck. Drugs, now, too.

Jungkook had managed a good year and a half on the straight and narrow. For that, he was proud. And sad.

But he's also determined. 

Top grades mean top jobs in the future, which means never having to traipse around Daerim at ass o'clock in the morning.

He hates this part of town, but it's where business is currently booming.

Hobi texts him a drop-off list each morning, ensuring his nights are almost exclusively spent in Daerim.

This is how Jungkook sees the city: grotty back allies, groups of men huddled around a pack of cards and dice on the floor, cigarettes hanging out of their mouths, phlegm spat onto the foor. He sees the women of the night in the early hours of the morning, and the sadness in the smiles they give to the men who approach them on street corners.

There's only one club of any worthwhile note in the area, and between jobs, Jungkook likes to sit up on the fire exit that rests above the back entrance.

It's where Hobi works, assisting some other reprobate that Jungkook doesn't care to learn the name of. Nasty piece of work, or so he's heard. The son of some powerful motherfucker that Jungkook knows to stay away from. He isn't interested in joining any stupid fucking gang. He just wants to get his money, get through university, and forget about this place.

That's the big dream at least.

His current wish, which feels much more immediate, is to outrun the fucker who has been on his tail for the past half a mile. Jungkook's pretty fast on his feet, and he gives a mean left-hook, but the guy chasing him has a pocket knife and that doesn't really feel like a fair fight.

It's his fault, and he knows it.

As per usual, Hobi had texted Jungkook his drop off list. Six of them, all in Daerim. He had no business being down by Jungang Market, especially not on a Thursday evening.

He couldn't even explain why he was; he was just curious about what life could be like if he ended up flunking out of college. He wanted to see where the monsters liked to lurk, or if they hid in the shadows like boogeymen.

But reprobate recognises reprobate, and drug runner recognises drug runner.

So now Jungkook really is running, out of territory that he shouldn't have infringed upon.

He's not out of breath yet, but he is conscious that his heartbeat feels like it's in his throat. A few streets over, his motorbike is parked behind an industrial-sized trash can, and he prays that no thieving cunt has tried to make a get away with it. They wouldn't have managed it - it's his prized possession and he never leaves it unprotected.

When he spots it a few minutes later, he laughs, relieved. "You beauty," he praises the engine, pulling his key from the pocket of his leather jacket.

The fucker chasing him is nowhere to be seen, probably nursing a stitch or panting down a different back alley. Jungkook doesn't want to risk it, eyes darting all over the place as he unbuckles the chain on his bike wheel with muscle memory alone. The metal clangs through the iron bars that protect the banjihas down the alley from break-ins. He always feels a little bit of guilt for chaining his bike up to the only source of natural light for the half-basement dwellings, but it's quarter past two in the morning. Not exactly sunshine hours.

And yet his eye is drawn to the light pouring down from a street lamp at the entrance of the narrow lane.

Usually, you ignore the noises you hear on your walk home - but, as strange as it sounded for Jungkook's voice to issue a compliment, you're almost positive that it is his voice.

Dark hair, dark eyes, he doesn't recognise you at first. You're wearing black, and your hair is down, but your lips still have that stupid fucking pink lipstick on, the one he'd seen you blot away onto a tissue in the middle of a lecture a few days prior.

His eyes linger, the lights flickering in his glossy dark irises as if there are fireworks inside that pretty little skull of his. For a moment, he thinks you must have been filming for the assignment. 

The lack of a camera proves otherwise.

"Get on the bike," he yells over to you, tugging on the sleeve of his leather jacket, pulling it down. Cognitive thoughts aren't something Jungkook's really working with, the adrenaline speaking for him.

That, and the fact that he's acutely aware of what men like the motherfucker who was chasing him down did to girls like you. Might not like you, but he doesn't want that on his conscience.

Plus, he needs your signature on the coursework documents, too. You're no use to him if you end up chopped into little squares and scattered in the river.

"Damnit, just get on the fucking bike!" He continues, noticing that you haven't moved a muscle. His jacket is off now, held out for you to take. He's impatient, eyes darting down the alleyway, as if he's scared of the rain that's pouring down around you. "Look, I ain't asking again. Just get on the bike, or I'll fuckin' leave you here. Some nasty fuckers about tonight."

And while you may not trust Jungkook, you don't trust the alleyways of downtown Seoul even more. You've seen the horrors. You know the dangers. Your mother didn’t raise a fool.

She also didn't raise you to bow to the commands of assholes like him either.

You ignore his jacket, hiking up your skirt, revealing far more of your thigh than most get to see. He doesn't make a comment, but you know he sees a flash of your underwear as you do so. 

For once, sex seems to be the last thing on his mind.

Rain pools in the gutter by the drainpipes, trickling down, collecting in the ducts. A puddle sits on top, a tell-tale sign that the street is going to flood soon, but Jungkook also doesn't give a shit about that. Not right now - but he does make a mental note to check that the drains are unblocked by his place when he gets home.

He's a fellow basement dweller, dependent on the cheap rent. A banjiha boy with big dreams of getting out.

You hoist your leg over, ignoring the droplets of water on the leather seat, as your hand wraps around his waist. The front of his white shirt is damp from the rain, elevating the scent of his laundry detergent. You don't hate it. Quite like it, actually.

"Wet conditions," he rasps, voice still hurrying out of his mouth. "So take the jacket. If I slide, the tarmac will rip your skin off." He turns, wrapping the jacket around your shoulders. "I'm not your father. Dress yourself."

"I'd be a bit concerned if my father was trying to dress me at the ripe old age of 21," you bite back, as if the fabric of his jacket doesn't feel like it's melting into your skin on account of how bloody warm he is. You push your arms through the material, shaking it ever so slightly as Jungkook begins to rev the engine.

"Thanks would have sufficed," he bites back a scoff, not wanting to waste time arguing. "Try not to fall off, a'right?" He gruffs. 

Some would have considered his concern endearing. You know it's just because he doesn't want to spend his evening scraping your flesh off the sidewalk. Not because he gives a single flying fuck about you. 

"Hold on."

He doesn't wait for longer than a second, just enough time for you to wrap your arms around his waist, before he pulls down on the accelerator. His exhaust chortles, spitting out petrol as he goes, water from the ground splashing up against your bare leg. You can feel goosebumps forming, and yet your arms are completely warm.

Of course they are. Jungkook's chest is a fucking furnace, heart pumping blood through him faster than the speed of light. Forward, forward, forward, he pushes his bike on, away from the downtown area he found you in, and away from the demons who were hunting him.

The vibration of the bike is a welcome disguise. Beneath the motor's veil, you're shaking. Partly terrified, partly the victim of an adrenaline surge. 

Hardly a surprise. You've never been on a bike like his before.

There weren't many men on motorbikes around your neighbourhood as a child, only Old Jinyeon, who had a Harley that he only rode on the weekends, or when his wife was away at that spa retreat that everyone knew was really code for 'rehab'. Prescription medication was her poison, mostly. There were whispers that alcohol was a bit of a problem, too. 

It was a shame, really. She was a nice lady - she'd just married into a lifestyle that didn't suit hers.

Old Jinyeon's father had also been called Old Jinyeon, and his father before that, regardless of their age. The name wasn't the only thing inherited, but a fortune too. Old by name, old by money. 

He'd met his wife at a gentleman's bar; gambled all of his chips away just so that he could keep talking to her as she worked.

But the good is rarely easy, and the easy never good. Women like her weren't supposed to be with men like him.

And girls like you aren't supposed to be on the back of boys like Jungkook's motorcycle.

But here you are, hurtling through the city at a speed you're pretty sure isn't legal, clinging onto him for dear life. Your eyes are shut, streaming with tears from the wind, mascara blotting onto his back.

"Left turn," he calls over his shoulder to brace you. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, stomach losing all stability as he rounds the corner. You've never suffered from travel sickness before, but now seems like the prime time to develop it.

The lights of the city all bleed into one kaleidoscope of colour. Your sense of direction has been rendered useless, only opening your eyes once every few seconds to make sure that this is real. And every single time, you're surprised to find that it is.

You expect it to be like a dream where you fall, only to wake up at the last second - but you've never had one of those dreams. You've only seen them in movies. You're not even sure they actually exist in real life. Perhaps this would be the closest you'd get to one. A main character moment - though this felt more like a crime-thriller than the rom-com you would have liked.

The feeling of damp wind in your hair like this is new, and exciting, but all you can think about is the fact that you're pretty sure one of your fake lashes just flew off. You pull your hand back to stroke at your lashes, just to check, but it's caught by Jungkook grabbing for it.

"I told you to hold on," he shouts, though he doesn't need to. The vibrations of his vibrato can be felt through his back. "So hold the fuck on, a'right?! I don't say shit like that for fun."

Jesus, you think. Who pissed in his cornflakes?

But he's right. You do need to hold on. He proves it by not warning you the next time he turns, the bike leaning so close to the tarmac that you're convinced you can feel rubber burn. He eases as soon as he hears you shriek, the grip you have on his chest so hard he swears you might puncture his skin. Reaching back, he cups your knee with his palm, checking for any sign of blood or broken skin. Negative. And yet his hand lingers before he retracts it. He's just making sure. Double-checking. Over-indulging.

"The fuck was that, asshole?" You all but scream.

"I told you to hold on, didn't I?!"

He did. And if you weren't doing so now, tighter than before, you'd have hit him so hard in the balls that he'd have no choice but to adopt in later life.

"You could have fucking killed me!"

"Oh, boo-hoo," he sneers, catching his tongue before he says something he'll grow to regret.

Jungkook would never have killed you. He knows these streets like the back of his hand, and how to ride his bike almost as well as he knows how to get himself off. It's second nature. Innate. A gift.

But before you can argue back, he draws to a stop, his exhaust rattling, the motor purring. As much as he'd like to tell you to get the fuck off his bike, he can feel you trembling now. A part of him - a very slim, deeply hidden part - feels guilty for being so hard on you.

He's grown up with bikes. Trusts them. Lives, breathes gasoline.

He doesn't imagine you know how to change a bicycle tyre, let alone anything with a motor.

The hand that had checked you for damage earlier returns, his fingertips warm against your goosebumps skin. He strokes lightly, once, twice, quickly. "You're fine," he tells you, and you want to believe him.

"Never said I wasn't."

He snorts a small laugh, then taps your knee, encouraging you off of the bike. His hand remains close as you do so, conscious of the fact that you'll most likely be unsteady on your feet - feet that he now notices are clad in the strappiest pair of heels he's ever seen in his life. Perhaps he doesn't need to worry about your stability at all. If you can walk in those, then you can surely handle a pair of wobbly knees.

Without much thought, you take his offer of assistance, his jacket dwarfing you as you stand, hand clasped in his.

"Where are we?"

The alleyway you're down is unlike the previous one he stole* you from (*rescued). It's cobbled and damp, yes, but the doors down here lead to dwellings, garages too. Not an industrial-sized trash cart in sight. And it doesn't smell like fermented piss either, which is a surprise. You thought that was just the standard for side-streets around these parts.

"Doesn't matter," Jungkook shrugs ambivalently as he unhooks his leg over the bike.

He wants to ask why you're wearing such stupid shoes.

That's a lie.

He doesn't think they're stupid.

He actually quite likes them. You've nice ankles. They look good.

What he really wants to ask is why you're wearing them on a school night. The pair of you might be in college, but it wasn't student night at the clubs, and he hadn't picked you up from a particularly nice part of town.

There are only three types of women he ever sees in Daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. You aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get Percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. He's sure of it.

So it then further begs the question: why the fuck were you there?

Sliding off his jacket, you offer him a small smile. It's the least you can do, you suppose.

It's funny, because you only ever see three kinds of men in Daerim: drunks, gamblers, and dealers. Jungkook isn't any of those. You might not know that much about him, but you know he's a scholarship kid, and that he won the winter film festival on campus for his documentary on back-alley gambling.

"We're not too far from campus," he eventually states. Few blocks over. He assumes you live on campus. Got the money for it.

"Cool," you nod, sure that you'll be able to find your bearings from here. You don't live on campus. Not anymore. No money for it. "Thanks for the lift, I guess."

The atmosphere is awkward, dewy mist in the air dampening both of you. He nods back, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

He knows he should invite you in, offer you somewhere to wait while you call a cab or something, but he's embarrassed. Of himself. His living situation. The fact that he doubts you've ever even been in a basement that isn't a wine cellar.

"Look I-"

"So-"

Jungkooks nose scrunches, cringing at the awkwardness. You glance down, self-conscious.

"What were you doing over in Daerim?" he asks rather out of the blue. He doesn't even process that he's asked until it's too late.

You clear your throat a little. "Just had some errands to run."

"At two in the morning?"

You nod.

"Right," he doesn't believe you, but can't think of a better explanation.

"Well, what were you doing there?" You ask, albeit a little more confrontational than intended. You were on the defensive.

His mouth is flat as he speaks, a narrowness to his eyes that makes your lips purse to suppress a smirk. "Running errands."

So you're both dirty little liars. Who'd've thought?

"Fairplay," you say with a smile. "Look, I still appreciate the ride. I'd have been fine," you add."But yeah, appreciate it nonetheless."

"Was nothing. I was headed in this direction anyway. If you take a left at the end of the street and follow the road down, there's usually a bunch of taxis waiting for the university cleaners to finish their night shifts. I'm sure you'll be able to get one."

"Take a left," you hum. "Cool. Will do." Bracing yourself to leave, Jungkook wonders if he should offer you a lift to your place too. "See you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow. Class? That thing we attend during daylight hours?"

"Oh right. Yeah. See you tomorrow."

Bizarrely enough, if this is how awkward Jungkook is when he's being nice, you think you prefer him being an asshole. At least he has a little spark in him then.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook feels overloaded with fucking sparks, like someone's holding an axe grinder against the metal of his earrings, deafening him. The reality of his evening is kicking in, and the knowledge that he came a few metres from having a hole in his abdomen becomes overwhelming. He doesn't let it show, though.

"Thanks, again."

You make a promise to punch yourself in the face if you say thank you one more fucking time.

"It's fine, again," he smiles, with a small laugh, before focusing those eyes of his on the floor.

And so you leave, walking straight past the taxi rank and taking a shortcut to your apartment, which is a lot closer than you had realised.

Seven steps below street level, you jog down to your front door, petting the neighbourhood calico stray on your way down. The door closes with a slam, but you don't give a shit because the people in the apartment above never seem to give a shit when they stumble home at four in the morning.

Before he sleeps that evening, Jungkook wonders how much of the skyline you get to indulge in. Your dad works in the accounting side of one of the largest law firms in the city, he knows that much from his research. Knows that your immediate family has more money than probably all of his relatives combined. Alive and dead.

He just isn't aware that you're not seeing a single dime of it. Not since you dropped out of the economics and business side of school to focus on the creative arts. All that money your parents had 'wasted' on your education? Well, they weren't wasting any more.

Because you're a commodity, to be bought and sold, apparently. Not their daughter, who they should have just wanted to be happy.

So now you spend your Tuesday and Thursday evenings down in Daerim.

Because you are a commodity; and if anyone's gonna be selling you, then it may as well be your fucking self. 

A stack of yellow 50,000 won bills sit on your desk. Twelve of them. 600,000 won. Not bad for a week's work. 6 hours.

Might have been cut off from your Dad's money, but your replacement 'daddy' wasn't a bad substitute.

The bluntness of such a statement usually makes you laugh, but not today.

If Jungkook knows the Daerim area like you think he does, then he'll be able to work it out soon enough. A bitterness fills your chest, like coffee dripping through a filter, forgotten about and left to go cold. You've been so good at playing pretend.

Secrets are so much easier to keep when they're not shared.

Perhaps that should be your project piece.

Secrets of Seoul: The Seedy Underbelly of The City.

After all, that was your unique view of the city; the side you saw that you were pretty sure no-one else did.

At least, no one else except Jungkook. Go figure.

"SEVEN WEEKS LEFT!" Your professor reminds the class as they dismiss you from your lecture. There's a little chatter, partners sharing ideas and friends discussing what to have for lunch - and then there's you and Jungkook.

He waits by the end of his row for you to walk to meet him, an inconspicuous look on his face.

The girl who he's watching neatly put a fluffy pen into her handbag looks a lot like you, but a hell of a lot different from the girl he gave a lift to last night.

Who the fuck are you?

Jungkook has always liked a little mystery. Seen the romanticism in the unknown. Still doesn't like you - but you've gotten him curious.

"You haven't sent anything over yet," he notes, keeping a slight distance from you as you walk together up the stairs.

"You told me not to bombard you," you remind him.

"Sending me video files once in a blue moon is fine."

"Once in a blue moon. Gotcha."

It's Friday, so he knows it's not one of your pre-determined days of having prior engagements.

It's only now that he realises that must have been why you were in Daerim last night; that your 'errands' are actually scheduled into your routine. It doesn't bode well for his 'not a hooker, an addict or a sugar-baby' theory.

"I was thinking of heading over to Dongdaemun this evening, seeing as you weren't free on Tuesday," he starts a little awkwardly, but the more he speaks, the easier it becomes. Being nice, that is. "I could still use a hand, if you're free? If you're serious about helping out, I mean. It would be good to make a start on things."

Relief washes over you. You've been fearing a conversation about the night before, but Jungkook doesn't want to talk about it just as much as you don't.

You meet him at seven o'clock that evening at Dongdaemun Design Plaza. You've always loved the green roof, how organic the landscaping looks above such a futuristic building. He listens as you explain this, eyes wide and in awe of the sloping pathways and curved walls, showing him your favourite of all the trees in the park.

Jungkook looks at you for a second, observes your hands, how they delicately move a few leaves to frame the shot you're taking. You've a Midas touch, and Jungkook wonders if your fingers would turn him to gold, too.

It's a silly, fleeting thought, but it doesn't stop him from focusing the camera on you as you roam Dongdaemun night market later that evening, lights cascading over you like glitter.

He thinks you're pretty in this light. Pretty when it's just him and you. No distractions.

Except there's hustle and bustle everywhere, a vendor chasing a thief, groups of high schoolers laughing on their way home from Hagwons, food sizzling, vapours making his stomach rumble. Perhaps you're the distraction, instead.

The pair of you spend the next week traipsing the city together.

Somehow, you only ever come together when the sun goes down, but it's fitting. You're a pair of nightcrawlers, swarming through the city when traffic sounds like a melody and destinations are unknown.

He learns that you drink your coffee black, no sugar, lukewarm. You learn that he'd rather rub coffee granules into his eyes than drink it.

And despite your preference for no sugar, he always tosses a little white sachet towards you whenever you order a coffee. He finds it funny. Insists that you have to be a sugar baby. It's the only way he can explain that night he saw you Daerim.

He's just joking. And you pretend not to, but you find it hysterical.

Mainly because he doesn't realise how bang on the money he is.

But also because you can't help but laugh whenever he does.

There's a comfort that grows between the pair of you, a familiarity. A casual ease that doesn't feel dangerous, not even when he's pulsing through the city on his bike, you holding onto him, his leather jacket wrapped around your body. You begin to like the way that the wind feels in your hair, and you stop wearing fake lashes. Jungkook doesn't tell you, but he likes you better with a few freckles showing, dewy highlighter and a little mascara being the only makeup you wear for the midnight city roams.

It's only because you can't be wasting resources reserved for clients on a boy from your film studies class. Times are tough, money is tight. No point in pouring funds into a boy you won't make revenue from. It's a bad business decision.

A few months ago, you did your makeup multiple times a day just for fun. Now you have to ration it. Life... life isn't what it used to be.

But Jungkook is ignorant to that, and you quite like it. Escaping from your reality. Becoming the version of yourself that he thinks you are.

He isn't sure which version of you he wants to spend time with the most; the too-good for him daddy's girl who dresses in Celine and comes with a pout, the enigma who lurks in the shadows that he thought he had a monopoly over, or the master director who seems to rival his talents for capturing moments of life in 4K.

As he watches your brows furrow while you turn your phone upside down, trying to understand a map, he decides that he doesn't care which version he gets.

Jungkook wants what he wants.

There's an impulsion to his desires and subsequent actions that he takes to obtain them. He's driven by gratification, and little else.

On the days he wants to feel wanted, he'll go to a bar. He never whispers false promises or pretends like he's after anything more than what can be achieved in a single night. The girls he goes for tend to see that as a challenge. They think they can convince him otherwise. It's not his fault when they can't. It's not his fault that they end up falling for him regardless. It's not his fault that he never has any intention of loving them back.

He tells them this. They ignore him. It isn't his fault.

On the days he wants to feel accomplished, he'll stay on campus until the cleaners usher him out of the room so that they can prepare it for the next day. Their insistence is lost on him - no amount of Cif can polish the dirt out of the walls. Once a shithole, always a shithole. He'll offer his apologies for getting in their way, and they'll coo over him like he's their own grandson. It's all very sweet.

They tell him not to overwork himself. He lies and says he won't.

On the days he wants to eat more than a single cup of ramyeon - which is most days, given his absolutely mammoth appetite - he'll send Hobi a text and request more drop-offs for that evening. Yoongi will give Jungkook a subtle look whenever a message from Hobi pings through, knowing it mustn't be good news. It never is.

Jungkook tells Yoongi to mind his business - but with a grin and a glint in his eye that eases his friends worry ever so slightly.

Disapproval never stops Jungkook from doing what he wants, regardless.

Not from his friends, from the cleaning ajummas, and especially not from you.

So he ignores the look in your eye, as he encourages you to follow him through a gap in the chainlink fence, which surrounds a disused water tower on the outskirts of the city.

Jungkook wants what he wants.

And right now, he wants to get a shot of the midnight city from his favourite vantage point.

"You said you've taken thousands of shots here," You hiss as a twig snaps beneath your foot. He smirks as you utter out a curse. "Surely you can just reuse one of those?!"

He guides you round, ignoring the ground level rubble, until you get to a ladder that definitely isn't safe for use. It's rusting by the bolts, and has a few vines trailing up it, undisturbed for months. Remnants of paint are flaking from the structure, collecting like ashes on the ground below.

"I have," he shrugs, unhooking your camera bag from your shoulder, popping it into his rucksack for safe keeping. He crouches, putting his palms upwards to offer you a leg up. "You haven't, though. You see the city differently to me, remember?"

He's taunting you. Reusing the phrase from your Professor that you had quoted to him on the first day of the project. Asshole.

Asshole with a smirk that suggests he's only teasing. Suggests that he's fond. Words that suggest he remembers the things you say to him. Memorises them, even.

Curious.

"Can't we just pretend like we see it the same way?"

"No can do, sugar."

"Oh my god, stop calling me that."

You're thankful for the midnight sky and the way it disguises your blush.

As if throwing packets of the white stuff at your face in coffee shops isn't enough, he's taken to calling you 'sugar', too.

"Give me a reason not to," he says as he tilts his head, encouraging you to accept his leg up. You check your feet for mud, then put your trust in his grip.

"I've already told you, I was just running errands," you defend yourself for the thousandth time. A short yelp escapes your lips as he boosts you up, your hands gripping onto the flaking bars beside the ladder.

He doesn't believe you for a second. He also doesn't believe that you're actually a sugar baby. It's just fun to fuck with you a little.

Once you're up, he waits for you to safely sit on the ledge, and then he makes the climb too. He's up a lot quicker than you, coming to sit beside you with his legs dangling over the ledge of the railings.

"Tell me it isn't worth it," Jungkook says a little airily, enamoured with the view.

And he's right. It is worth it.

A maze of city lights twinkle like the Carina nebula, interstellar, yet entirely of this earth. Bright whites, reds and greens speckle the horizon, and for a moment, it's easy to forget that you're looking at Seoul. There's a magic that can only be appreciated from a distance, far away from the scent of alleyways and the void nothingness of grey brick buildings. Skyscrapers tower above the skyline, but still look small from where you and Jungkook sit, silently, in awe.

"Look over there," he points across the vast expanse. You follow his trajectory, but you have no idea if you're picking out the right spot. "Daerim. Can always tell. Know the street layout too well."

"You're gonna get me thinking you're a sugar baby," you nudge your shoulder into his, and he laughs.

Reaching into his rucksack, you expect him to pull out your camera. Instead, his hand comes back into vision holding a pair of chopsticks and a tub of instant ramyeon. Uncooked.

He pulls the seal back, stabs at it with the chopsticks and offers you the small chunk he's broken off.

"It's good," he promises.

You know what dried ramyeon tastes like. You know it's good. You just can't understand what the fuck is wrong with him.

"Are you broken?"

He grins as he tosses the chunk of dried noodles into his own mouth. "Absolutely - but ramyeon is ramyeon."

You tell him he's weird, and he continues to smile, not resisting as you take the tub from him and break off a chunk with your fingers.

It's one of his favourite snacks. He's impatient and impulsive at the best of times. Waiting for it to cook? Too much effort. Cooking it at the convenience store and carrying it up the tower with him? Disaster waiting to happen. It's just easier this way.

And so the pair of you sit, not really saying much, watching the city roll by. Every now and again, he offers you a chunk from his chopsticks.

By the end of the night, neither of you have gotten any footage of the city.

And neither of you really care.

AS YOU SPRINT home after yet another spree around the city with Jungkook, running late for your Thursday evening appointment, you curse your inability to send his calls to voicemail. 

You should really be working more. You need to be working more - but for the past four weeks now, you've answered every single one of his calls.

His messages? Yeah, you ignore those. He's learnt this, though. He messages you regardless, because... well, because he wants to, quite frankly. He doesn't give a shit if you respond.

He knows you read them.

He knows you saw that picture he sent of a flyer detailing a live art event last week. He knows that you noticed the veins on his arms.

You don't know that he'd spent a couple of minutes tensing his arm before he took the picture. Deliberately.

It's been said before that Jungkook wants what he wants - and what he wants more than anything, frustratingly, is your attention.

The way you study his arms the next time you see him proves that he's gotten it.

If anything, the delayed gratification makes it so much more worthwhile. 

You have been thinking about him.

So as far as Jungkook is concerned, you can ignore his messages all you like, because you still always answer his calls with an airy 'hi,' as if talking to him takes your breath away.

The only time you don't answer is between the hours of eleven and two on Tuesday and Thursday evenings.

Chances are, if he just so happens to be in the area - which he always is - he'll catch you down on the wrong side of the tracks at just gone quarter past two.

He still calls you 'sugar', teasing you for the reputation of the area. You just roll your eyes and grin, then banter with him about how even if you were a sugar baby, he wouldn't be able to afford your prices.

He argues that he'd pay in ways that didn't include monetary value.

You don't ask him to expand.

But as you wipe your watery lash line in the bathroom of a shitty rental apartment in Daerim, you think about what he could have meant. If he actually meant it. 

The TV blares from the living room, faint vapours of a mango e-cigarette wafting through the gap beneath the door. You've always thought mango smells like cat piss. Rancid.

Whatever Jungkook could have meant didn't matter. His flirty tone and angel eyes didn't pay the bills. The cash tossed down on the bathroom counter did - or more specifically, the widower, who occasionally wanted company from a pretty young girl, did.

A hundred thousand won for an hour, three hundred thousand total. It takes you just a week, two appointments, to make up the month's rent - but you still need to eat, to study, survive. 

And so you return, every week.

It's not his actual apartment. He lives over in Gangnam, close to his kids' schools. More money than sense. He doesn't tell you much about his personal life. You think a lot of his small claims are lies, anyway - but you smile and flutter your lashes as if he's reciting bible verses.

Some nights are better than others. Sometimes, he genuinely makes you laugh. Occasionally, he'll ask you what you want to do. Takes you to museums. Fancy dinners. Theatre shows.

But he has a nasty streak, and in those three hours, you're his. He owns you. There's no sex, that's not the arrangement, but his hands have been known to roam, and the disparity of equality within your working relationship becomes apparent. You brush it off, tell yourself that it's natural for a man engaging with you in a romantic capacity to forget the rules. You tell yourself that it's okay.

The churning in your stomach and dis-ease of such a situation tells you that no, it isn't okay. But if you laugh at his painfully unfunny jokes loud enough, you're able to drown out the noise in your head.

The worst nights are the ones where he pays you extra.

There's no discussion anymore. The stack of notes is just thicker than usual upon arrival, and you know that at some point during the night, you'll have to sit in silence and watch as he sinks his hand down into his pants.

It's easy to forget the way it looks. Your eyes glaze over, and the discomfort, the slight disgust, indicated in your features gets him hard. He thinks it's taboo. Thinks you enjoy it too. That your panties look a lot like his hand by the time he's finished.

The snort-like grunts are what you find hard to forget. The wail of a moan that comes when he does. You hear that shit in your nightmares.

But it earns you an extra two hundred thousand, so you endure it because you don't have much of an option at this point.

Come 2 AM, cash stuffed down your bra, you don't have to think about it anymore. The fresh air of the city, a little smoggy and polluted, hits you like a freight train. You thank it.

When Jungkook enters Daerim that evening, he expects to find you. He normally does. You never look particularly happy - in fact, he often tells you that you've got a face like a slapped arse - but it's more so today.

He whistles from across the street, clad in black, a thick hoodie keeping him warm beneath his leather jacket. "Oi, Sugar," he calls, that boyish grin on his lips. Teeth so pretty you wonder how much novocaine it would take for you to be numb to the way it makes your stomach flip.

Eyes dancing up and down your body, he likes what you're wearing. Black tights, black dress that cuts off at your mid-thigh, a sweetheart neckline and chiffon sleeves that puff around your slender arms. He decides your boots are far more sensible than the heels you're usually in.

"That'll be twenty thousand, Jeon," you call back, arms folded over your chest as you change direction to walk towards him.

"Per hour?"

"Per every time you call me that stupid fucking name."

"What would you rather?" he goads, leaning against a window ledge on the back of a restaurant building. There's nothing down the alleyway, just trashbags and the distinct scent of fermenting piss. "Shugs? SB? Baby?"

You smirk, walking to the wall opposite him, mirroring his position, hands resting beside you on the ledge. There's a safe distance between the pair of you. A look, but don't touch type of vibe - but this time, unlike earlier on in your evening, you actually enjoy it.

"You really gotta make your mind up," your eyes roll, lips rising into a crescent. "One minute I'm a trust-fund princess with Daddy's money on tap, the next I'm a sugar baby with a different type of Daddy altogether."

Jungkook shrugs. "Just don't see why you waste your evenings roaming fucking Daerim of all places."

"Best dandanmian in the city," you say, referencing the abundance of traditional Chinese restaurants in the area. "Can't get the authentic stuff in Itaewon."

"Can't get hookers in Itaewon like you can in Daerim, either," he taunts you.

He doesn't really think you're a hooker, but he likes the way you grin whenever your eyes roll.

"Ah, so that's why you're here."

He holds his hands up to playfully admit defeat. "Guilty."

You laugh, knowing that there's no way in hell Jungkook will ever have to resort to hookers. Not when he looks like that. All doe-eyed and charming, floppy hair just begging for a pair of hands to run through it.

The pair of you let the moment simmer, droplets of water dripping from the drainpipe and into the sewer. He's lit by the neon light of a restaurant sign, red and yellow painting him like an impressionist masterpiece.

"You look cold," he acknowledges, but you shake your head and insist you're fine. Your hair is a little damp from the small shower you'd been caught in a little while previously, mascara smudged around your eyes. You looked like that before the rain, mind you. He shakes his jacket off and tosses it across to you, snorting quietly as it hits your face and crumples over your feet. "C'mon. I'm now about to ride home. I'll give you a lift."

He asks for your address, and you tell him that you'll just get a taxi from his place like you normally do. There's no need for him to go out of his way.

"The princess doesn't want the pauper to see her castle, huh?" he teases, always talking in bloody riddles.

"See!" you protest. "Always changing your mind! A minute ago I was a sugar baby, and now I'm a rich bitch again. Which is it, Jeon?"

"I dunno," he reaches behind himself, adjusting your legs and pulling you a little closer into his back, tapping your side to make sure you've got the jacket on. "You tell me, sugar."

He doesn't see you roll your eyes, but he knows you do it. You always do. Even when your pretty pink nails are clutching the fabric of his shirt, you pretend like you don't enjoy his company.

You've gotten good at playing pretend. 

Jungkook only jokes about you being a sugar baby.

He doesn't fathom that you actually are one.

His engine begins to purr, and Jungkook kicks up the stand, setting off into the night.

The way you hold onto his waist is different tonight.

Physically, it's the same.

But it feels different.

And it is, because you're not just holding onto him; you're hugging him. Comfort in an old routine. You adjust your arms, keeping tight against his back, and he pretends like he doesn't notice the shift in dynamic.

He pretends as if he didn't notice your sad eyes earlier, too, and as if he can't feel the stutter in your chest as if you're trying not to cry.

Jungkook isn't a knight on a white horse, and nor does he want to be - but he doesn't mind being your rogue bandit who steals you away from the things that make you sad.

He's just an arc in your fairytale, not your happy ending.

But you've always been a sucker for a bit of a plot twist.

When you arrive at his, he wants to ask you to stay. He doesn't want an orange taxi cab to appear at the end of his lane and act like your actual knight in shining armour. He doesn't want you to ride into the sunrise with anyone but him.

And as luck would have it, your phone shares his desires.

Well, no. It doesn't. It's a mobile phone. It doesn't have cognitive thoughts - but it is out of charge.

"Different charging ports," he grits his teeth as he holds up his Samsung after you ask if he's got an iPhone charger. "I'm pretty sure I have an apple cable lying about though. You can come in for a second, get a little bit of charge just so that you're not stranded in a taxi without a way to contact anyone."

You nod appreciatively. "You sure?"

He doesn't answer, instead holding his door open and ushering you inside.

Jungkook cares in strange ways. He's practical, forward-thinking, trying to find solutions to problems that you'd normally shrug your shoulders at.

He's never told anyone that he loves them before, but he did once swap the hinges on his ex-girlfriend's bathroom door to the other side, so that it would stop hitting the sink basin every time she opened it. He shows his affections in meaningful ways, often without being asked or expecting anything in return.

Neither of you realise it yet, but this is one of those occasions.

It's not until you're perched on the worktop bench in his kitchen that he realises he let you in without hesitation. No longer embarrassed of where he lived, he kind of likes having you here.

You look out of place, silver pendant round your neck, expensive, and hair professionally coloured, nails done, toes, too. Not that he can see them. He just remembers a conversation you had once over chicken and a beer about the fact your toes always matched your nails.

Small details like that are what he thinks about when he's alone; like the way you blink a little faster when you're confused, and how you sprinkle Cheeto dust back into the bag off of your fingers instead of licking them like he does. He thinks about the way you laugh in his company, and how he's never heard you laugh like that with anyone else. And he tries to stop, but dammit, he thinks about how sexed up you look on those Daerim nights.

You're dressing like that for someone else, he knows that much.

But he gets to indulge in it too, when your body is pressed against his back as he takes you home.

He's stopped asking what you do in Daerim. He doesn't want to know.

For a few minutes a night, when he's alone, he likes to pretend what it would be like if he was the one you were dressed like that for. Only ever a minute or so. Gets him too hot. Finishes him off too quickly. Absolute sin.

"Kook?"

He doesn't even realise he's halted his movements until your voice breaks him from his thoughts. His jeans tonight are tight, and do a pretty good job of hiding the swelling between his legs. Fucking uncomfortable, though.

"Sorry," he doesn't turn to face you. "Was just trying to remember where I last had the cable."

"I was just saying that it's fine. It's really not that far. Don't wanna be a bother."

"Why'd you say shit like that?" he turns to face you, face twisted a little. He's annoyed.

"Like what?"

"Call yourself a bother. You do it a lot."

"I don't."

"You do," he insists, and you can't work out why he's so annoyed by it. You want to apologise all over again. "You just-" he takes a moment to find the right words. "I dunno who's conditioned you into thinking everything you do is bothersome, but it really isn't. If I didn't wanna help, then I wouldn't. It's not a bother. You're not a bother."

And you don't know why, but for some reason, you choke up a little. It's not like he said anything particularly groundbreaking, it's just for the last few months, your entire existence has felt like a drain on those around you.

The money you can live without, but you miss family dinners on Sundays, and face timing your little sister, more than you can even begin to explain.

And while no, you didn't want your parents' money, you didn't want to keep seeing a perverted old man just to be able to afford to eat, either. The flat rate was 500,000 now. Every single time. Without fail. You hadn't put the price up. He was just always paying extra. Always touching his prick. Always jerking himself off over your repulsion.

Earlier that evening, he had queried how much it would cost him to finish on your chest. You told him a million. He asked if you accepted bank transfers. You told him no. He offered 1.2 mil.

Part of you considered it. It's a lot of money. Not something to be taken lightly.

But when you ran into Jungkook, just like you knew you would, you were adamant you had made the right choice. He had scanned your body, getting a read on your mood, assessing what you needed, what you wanted, and then had offered up his jacket. All doe-eyed and sparkling. You finally got what all the girls swooned over, 'cause you were doing it too.

"Hey," he says softly, noticing the way your eyes are reddening. "Hey, hey, no. Don't cry, sugar."

You laugh through the first couple of tears. Stupid fucking nickname.

"I meant it," you sniff, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hands. He's standing closer now, hesitant to touch, hands hovering around you. "20 thousand won, Jeon. Pay up."

His fingers tenderly wrap around your wrists, keeping them from rubbing at your face again. He's smiling, eyes ever encompassing, cheeks so appled that you bet you could get drunk off the cider he'd produce.

"Can we do it on an I.O.U. basis?" he speaks quietly, playfully. "I get paid on Monday."

It's a lie. He gets his commission cut straight from his sales figures. There's 2 million won in his rucksack. He only gets ten percent. 200K. His job's not nearly half as lucrative as yours, but it's still nothing to be laughed at. He's making bank.

"Nuh-uh," you sniff again, letting out a little laugh. He laughs too. "Told you that you couldn't afford me."

And then it's silent. You can hear your heartbeat. He moves a little closer.

"Told you I'd just pay in other ways."

His voice is hoarse, as if he's scared. 

As if he fears the consequences of his claim.

Your eyes drop to his lips. They're trembling slightly. Preparing.

The grip he has on your wrists loosens. He's giving you freedom. He's giving you the chance to back out, to run away.

But you don't.

"Pay up, then," you all-but whisper, lips closing on his.

Jungkook doesn't stall, no, but it takes him a second to respond. To realise.

And once he does, his brows furrow into the kiss, demanding that you know just how much he wants this. Wants you. Has done for weeks, now.

He pulls your body into his, needing you close. Your body curves, his arm hooked behind your back to keep you balanced.

A surge of intensity washes over you like crimson paint. It'll stain you, and everyone will know: That's her. That's the girl who let Jeon Jungkook kiss her like he actually meant it.

He kisses, and he kisses, and he kisses, and he doesn't stop, as if he knows his first with you will also be his last - and when he finally does stop, forehead on yours, the pair of you are breathing so heavily into each other's mouths that it's as if you're sharing oxygen. Keeping each other alive. Both capable of first-degree murder.

And so neither of you pull away. There's no way he's doing time for you. There's no way you're doing time for him. Looks like you'll just have to kiss forever. Shame. Such a hardship. However will you cope?

"I-" he begins, before cutting himself off, easing his grip on your waist. One of his hands lingers, while the other pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes wincing. "Shit-" he finally lets you go. "I don't know what that was. I'm sorry."

You want to tell him that it's okay, that you didn't mind, that he could do it again - but it's clear he doesn't agree.

"Just adrenaline," you offer, sinking down to perch on the worktop bench. Your defeated posture is hidden well like this. "Don't sweat it."

He stays silent as he turns around to resume his rummaging, looking for a charger that will fit your phone. He knows there's one in there, he just can't for the life of him remember when he last had it.

Everything feels a little awkward. You half think that you should fill the void with something, that you should break the ice, but what was the point? You'll be out of his hair soon.

And you are, home twenty minutes later. You had only charged your phone for ten minutes at his, just enough to get you home. It's about to die again. Not before Jungkook pings you a message, though.

He doesn't expect a response, but he lies awake until he sees your read receipt confirm that you've seen it.

Sadness doesn't suit you, sugar. I'm not gonna pry, but if you ever need a ride earlier than normal out of Daerim, give me a call.

He spent a good six minutes debating whether or not to end his message with a kiss, eventually deciding against it. No need to make the message any softer than it already was.

To his surprise, a bubble pops up on your side of the chat thread.

His heart twinges, your response saying everything he wished he had with just one simple letter:

x

JUNGKOOK HAS A terrible habit of taking out his stress on the people around him; the ones that he holds closest.

"I just don't see why it's such a big issue," Jimin says through a mouthful of salad greens. His teeth chomp so loudly that Jungkook thinks they'll have to swing by the dentistry labs later that afternoon. Which Jimin'll probably like, considering he won't stop fucking rambling on about a dentistry student at the moment. "She's hot, she's got guys practically falling at her feet and she's interested in you. It's one party. Stop being so fucking boring."

Yoongi casts Jungkook a sympathetic look. He doesn't work so much at the moment, what with his chemistry finals coming up, and especially not in the Daerim area.

That's Jungkook's market now - but he did happen to have a drop-off for a last-minute order a couple of weeks back.  Territory isn't an issue between the friends, with Jungkook respecting Yoongi far too much to ever tell him to back off, or to not take deals in that area.

He had been about to approach Jungkook that night, when he noticed you crossing the street, a smile plastered on your face. He couldn't see Jungkook's face from the angle he was at, but he could see how raised his cheeks were. And so he left the pair of you to it, knowing better than to stick his nose where it wasn't wanted.

Unlike Jimin, apparently.

"Not boring," Jungkook retorts, tossing the wrapper his chopsticks came in at Jimin's face. "Got a bunch of assignments due in."

"Dude, you've been MIA for weeks. If we didn't have classes together, I'd have sent out a search party by now."

"You're being dramatic."

"You're being boring."

"Kids, settle down," Yoongi interjects, and wonders why he doesn't just find friends his own age. Logistics, he decides. The perils of having to save up for university before he could actually attend.

Jimin, being Jimin, then proceeds to bicker with Yoongi, leaving Jungkook free to find your face amongst the canteen crowd. You're sat with friends, none of whom he's ever met.

Your hair is up, like it always is during school, but you've let your grown out bangs frame your face. Pretty, he thinks. Prettiest girl here.

But then you stand up, and Jungkook turns caveman. Head empty. No thoughts. Just nonsense. Jesus Christ. Who gave you the right? God damn.

A few months ago, he would have looked at you in that outfit - a silky sage green playsuit over a white tee, sunglasses resting on your head like an alice band and a pair of white converse on your feet - and he probably would have scoffed. Wouldda said some bullshit about the fact you're dressed like a child, or that the weather isn't good enough to warrant such an outfit.

A few months ago, he was a fucking idiot.

You feel his gaze on you, just like you always do.

And you ignore it.

You've been getting good at that. Pretending as if you don't feel his eyes. As if you're unaffected, unbothered by the simplest form of intimacy: a single look.

He knows you've been keeping your distance. Watching from afar is all he can do when you slink out of class before he can catch your attention. He tells himself that he doesn't care.

Jungkook mutes the audio track of the editing software he uses when he stitches together your footage, so he doesn't have to relive your conversations or hear you laugh, or worse, hear himself laugh.

It's all a bit nauseating.

Maybe a party would actually be a good distraction.

"Tonight, did you say?" Jungkook pipes up out of nowhere, only dragging his eyes away from you when he sees you pull your phone out to send a text. 

He pouts. You never text him. Not once since last Thursday. 

And you were nowhere to be seen on Tuesday.

He had called you, and for once, you didn't pick up. He didn't try again. Decided that it was on you just as much as it was on him.

That being said, he didn't get home till four in the morning, two and half hours after his last deal. Spaffed away an entire tank of petrol. Rode in fucking circles. Just in case.

"Now we're talking!" Jimin grins. "Tonight. It's her birthday, she's rented a bar in Itaewon - Dad knows the landlord or something."

Jungkook didn't know who 'she' was. Hadn't been listening to that part of the conversation.

"Well, you kids enjoy yourselves," Yoongi sighs as he gets to his feet. "Can't risk my finals over a few crappy drinks in a shitty bar."

"Oh boo-hoo!" Jimin pouts. "Spoilsport."

When Jungkook enters the bar that evening, he's greeted with everything he expects. E-cigarette vapours cloud the air, a cocktail of flavours violating his senses as he heads to the bar, shitty EDM pumping through the speakers. It's been a while since he let his hair down, so to speak.

There's something about him that commands attention. People gravitate towards him, even through the smoke clouds and sweaty bodies. Girls buy him drinks. Guys buy him drinks, too. Anything just to spend time in his presence. Like leeches, they hope to share some of Jungkook's aura.

It's impossible, though. It's Jungkook's authenticity that gives him such charisma. Trying to emulate it only ever comes off as tacky - like the guy towards the back of the room who's permed his hair to look like Jungkook's. Pierced his eyebrow, too. Looks like shit. Jungkook doesn't want to judge him, but he's a few drinks deep, and being kind is what got him into that mess with you in the first place.

No good ever comes from being nice.

He takes a shot. Tequila. Chases it down with lemonade. The girl next to him is playing with the bracelets on his wrist. Her nails scratch a little bit, and he quite likes it, so he doesn't resist when pulls him onto the dancefloor. He observes the way she moves first, and isn't disappointed. She knows how to move her hips, and seems to like it when he puts his hands on them. He can't really feel the sensation when she kisses him. The alcohol has numbed his lips. Maybe Jimin was right to force him into this.

By the time he goes to the bar for another drink, he's faded. Off his tits. Helped himself to some of Hobi's stash that he was supposed to be distributing that evening. A little bit of coke never does him any harm. He knows his limits. Tastes like shit down the back of his throat, but he kind of enjoys it.

At first, he thinks he must be seeing things when he catches you with an espresso martini in hand, laughing with people he doesn't know.

You've this whole life that he's no part of. A whole entire world. He really is an outsider looking in.

You're one of the elite; an old-money heiress. The type to own a miniature dog breed and only fly business class. It was stupid of him to think your interest in him had been anything more than entertainment. A 'little bit of rough.' Excitement away from the confines of the life he's sure your parents must have planned out for you.

It might just be because he's coked up, but he doesn't care about any of that. 

All he can think about is the fact he's pretty sure you've never looked more beautiful.

He feels so lost looking at you like this, as if he needs to be closer, for fear of losing sight of you entirely.

And so he sits beside you at the bar, orders his drink, waits for you to notice him. Which you do.

You'd spotted him the very second you walked into the bar, his hands all over some girl you don't know.

In all fairness, you didn't realise he would be there. Sohyun, the girl whose birthday it was and an old friend from high school, has been fawning over Jungkook for months. Just superficial drawling, comments about his thighs and the fact she'd quite like to be suffocated by them. Harmless, really. You know she's never actually made a move.

Sohyun doesn't know you're working on a project together. You avoid the topic of him altogether, especially with her.

But she does notice the way Jungkook is looking at you like he's seen a ghost; haunted and comforted all in the same expression.

"You're here," he finally says, and it feels as if your chest is about to cave in.

Turning to face him, you're casual in your posture. Unbothered. Completely unaffected by him, and the lipstick that's painting those lips of his that you like so much.

You raise your thumb and swipe it across his bottom lip. He's silent as you do so, watching you, holding his breath. His lip moves like rubber beneath your touch, soft and supple, springing back into position once you release it.

You raise your thumb to study the lipstick you've collected from him. "Plum's really not your colour, Jungkook."

He doesn't say anything, a little transfixed. It's barely ticked past midnight. You should be in Daerim.

In all fairness, so should he. Hobi had some choice words for Jungkook when he told him that he wasn't working that evening at such short notice.

You swipe open your phone and repeat the step, filming your thumb as Jungkook becomes captive to your touch. You want to look, to see how wide his dark eyes are, but you're too busy feigning disinterest.

"There," you smile, forwarding the video along before you lock your phone. "Just sent you a video of how I see the city tonight."

You've no right to be annoyed. You know that.

Jungkook can be in a bar with another girl's lipstick on his chin if wants to be. He can stay out all night, and he can stay in beds that aren't his. It's his prerogative.

But you are annoyed.

It's irrational, and pathetic, and you shouldn't be.

You barely know him. Not really.

After you'd shown him your favourite tree at the Design Plaza a few weeks ago, he'd insisted on taking you across town to Garosugil, a street in Gangnam lined with beautiful tall trees. He questioned why you only had one favourite tree, when you could have had an entire row of them instead.

At the time, you'd enjoyed the way his eyes looked beneath the lights of the designer stores that neither of you could afford. You didn't question what he had meant.

It seems like you found your answer.

"I'm not the city," he eventually says.

And he's right.

He's not the city.

Fuck it, no, he's not the city, but his eyes sparkle like Itaewon on Friday nights, and his hands are strong like the World Cup Bridge. He's not the city, but you find it so easy to get lost in him without a map, and sometimes wearing his leather jacket makes you feel like you're eating comfort food at your favourite breakfast bar over in Myeong-dong. He's not the city.

He's not the goddamn city.

But it feels a little like you'd accidentally anchored your navigation pin in him regardless.

All you do is smile, and tell him that he's right.

"Look," he begins, and you can smell the spiced rum on his breath.

"It's okay," you interrupt. Who are you to make him feel guilty for his promiscuous encounters?

He doesn't know what you do in the dark. Not really. If he did, he probably wouldn't have kissed you last week.

"No, I-" he cuts himself off like he always does when he doesn't wanna fuck up his words. The alcohol is doing him absolutely zero favours. "I dunno, sugar."

Your smile is sad, and he hates himself. You lean forward, press a kiss into his rosy cheek and whisper, "That'll be 20,000, Jeon."

And because he's drunk, and he wants to make things better, he reaches for his wallet. You were about to walk away regardless, but damn, if the boy doesn't know how to hit you where it hurts.

"Really, Kook?"

It's like he doesn't know you at all; doesn't remember how you banter with him, how you flirt with him. Or maybe you were just stupid for thinking that you'd been flirting with him in the first place. Maybe he just speaks to everyone how he speaks to you. Must have spoken to whoever was wearing that lipstick in the same way.

He doesn't answer, not verbally, but his brows pinch together and his lips develop a frowning pout.

When he stumbles home that evening, he asks himself the same question: really, Kook?

In the morning, he wakes alone, with no recollection of how he got home. 

He doesn't remember the girl from the bar, or the fact that Jimin threw up in a fish tank, or that they're now barred from three different establishments for encouraging people to snort fish food (which Jungkook had stolen while Jimin was emptying his stomach). Regretfully, he doesn't even remember your arrival at the first bar. Doesn't remember how, for once, you'd dressed to impress just him.

His lack of recollection means fuck all though, 'cause despite his headache, the thing weighing down most heavily on him is guilt. He feels a sense of duty when it comes to you; duty that he hasn't performed lately. Were you getting home safe? Getting harrassed by scummy fuckers on the Daerim path of destruction?

Out of habit, he checks his phone, ignores the messages from unknown numbers and goes straight to your message thread to check the damage. He's surprised to find that he didn't drunk text you, but even more surprised to find that you'd messaged him. It's a video, just a few seconds, but it's enough to provoke some of his memories back.

He watches your thumb as it glides across his bottom lip. Watches it again. Notices the lipstick. Notices the thumb ring he never realised you wore before, and the fact that your nails are black now instead of their usual pink. There's something erotic about it; the way you touch him. The way you filmed yourself touching him. He'll probably get in trouble for it, but there's no way he isn't adding that to your project.

You consider ignoring his call when your phone flashes with his caller I.D.

It's only just gone seven, and you're still in bed, still try to make heads or tails of your life.

But you're weak, and so you slide your thumb across the little green icon.

"Hey."

"Uh, hey."

"You good?"

"So hungover, I think I might die," Jungkook jokes, voice hoarse. You wonder if he always sounds like this in the morning. "Just wanted to check in with you though. Barely seen you all week, and then I end up with a weird-ass video in our message thread that I don't remember."

Ah. You cringe.

"Ran into you at the bar," you shrug, not that he can see you. "Didn't realise you were friends with Sohyun."

"Hmm?"

"Sohyun... the girl who's birthday it was?"

"Oh. Right. Yeah. Nah, no, not really friends with her. Jimin forced me along."

You don't know all that much about Jimin, but from your limited interactions with him, it doesn't surprise you. Not in the slightest.

"Good night?"

Your question sounds forced and awkward, and he doesn't quite understand why.

"No idea," he admits honestly. "Remember fuck all."

He sounds as if he wants to keep talking but doesn't know what to say.

You don't know what to say either.

It's a mess. You liked it better when he hated you.

"Were you at the bar for long?" He asks, genuinely curious. "You're normally busy on Thursdays?"

"Just a drink. Had a last-minute change of plans."

"Oh?"

"Yeah..."

You know he wants you to elaborate. He wants more without having to explicitly ask for it.

Which is apt. Seems like it's a common occurrence with Jungkook.

"So what did you call for?" you change the topic, not wanting to dwell. The aversion doesn't go unnoticed by him, but it does go unquestioned.

"I-" there he goes again, cutting himself off prematurely. Coward. "Are you free? Now?"

Oh.

Not a coward. Just cautious.

"Now? I mean, yeah, I guess."

Jungkook takes a second, and then he bites down on the grenade pin.

"Can you come over?"

THE WAY YOU keep Jungkook hanging on tenterhooks is deliberate.

You're unsure of him, of his motivations, and what he does in the dark. And so, while you want to let your guard down, you can't. It's probably something to do with your parents - the people who are supposed to love you unconditionally - making their love entirely conditional and withdrawing it so suddenly.

It's the kind of shit you would have spoken about with your therapist, but you can't afford her anymore.

Can't afford much of anything, anymore. So much of the money you've earnt recently is tied up in credit card debt or rent.

Foundation was the first luxury that you'd compromised, and you're still yet to buy any more. Cheap stuff always makes you break out, and thankfully your parents did give you decent genetics, at least, so your skin was pretty clear.

It's the lack of make up that suggests to Jungkook you're opening up; not hiding from him anymore.

But it's also what tells him something is incredibly wrong, when you show up at his door half an hour later with a graze beneath your eye. Little flecks of reddened skin creep up your cheekbone, and Jungkook thinks it almost looks like carpet burn.

He hadn't noticed it last night, but it was dark, and he was drunk.

He lets you in, takes your jacket, offers you a drink. Everything that he knows he should do. Asks how you are, keeps a safe distance.

You don't know why you're here. Why you didn't say you were busy.

Except you do. 

It's cause you miss him whenever you're away from him.

"I like these," you smile as you look at the artwork he has up in his room. The studio space is small, cramped, like all semi-basements are, but it's distinctly 'his'. A lot different to yours. Everything you own is still in boxes, not yet unpacked. 

You've refused to come to terms with that being your life now.

"Thanks," he nods, watching you as you explore the box of a room he calls home. "They're from a guy down by the coach station. Has a little stall."

"You'll have to show me," you muse, turning to smile at him. It's saccharine, but the graze on your face is just so bitter. He hates it. Hates that he doesn't know how you got it. "Think I'd like some for my place."

"I have a feeling they'd look a little out of place in a princess tower, sugar."

Your shoulders shake as you laugh quietly, not correcting him. He doesn't need to know that you're a basement dweller, too.

"How's the editing coming along?" You steer the question away from your living situation.

"Nearly there," he grins, brimming with quiet excitement. Something about the way your camerawork looks with his editing technique layered on top just really works. He's always been confident with his final projects, and this one scares him a little bit, but in a good way. It's his best yet. Maybe he did need you after all.

"Can I see?"

"Not yet."

"Kook," you say, and - oh god - you're pouting. Jungkook suddenly begins to feel nervous.

It's that scary feeling again. A fear of the good stuff. Trepidation.

"What?" he grins, walking a little closer to you, letting his hand stroke against your back as he sits down on his bed. His fingers catch yours. It's fleeting, but enough.

You both feel it.

"Such a tease," you say, talking about the project, but there's innuendo in your words, too.

"Some girls like it," he flirts back.

"The girl at the bar last night seemed to like it."

Jungkook rolls his eyes, boyish and charming. It's annoying, you think, how impossible it is to be mad at him. It's not because you're weak, or because you can't resist his charms, but because he has a way of playing things off as if they're no big deal.

The girl at the bar? A nobody, his shrug suggests. She doesn't matter.

And it's so easy to believe, because you're the one in his apartment. You're the one he wanted here, the one that he missed. Or at least, the one that he was thinking of when he decided that he could do with some company.

It might be nothing, just something to pass the time, but it makes you feel wanted. Desired. Needed.

So you accept his hand when he reaches out towards you, pulling you closer, positioning you between his spread legs. You're standing, his eyes level with your chest, unashamed as he looks at your body.

"You look warm," he husks.

Just like he always uses your body temperature as excuse to give you his jacket, he's using it as an excuse now, too. The desired effect is obvious.

His AC switchboard is on the wall behind his bed. You'd clocked it when you were walking around, observing his possessions. Yanmar, the branding reads, the plastic outer frame beige. Once, it would have been crisp white. Age has dulled it. The monochrome monitor has a clock symbol in the corner, an indicator that Jungkook has his AC set on a timer. It suggests a sense of permanence. This is his home.

You haven't set your timer yet. You just flick it on when you get hot. It isn't your home.

He watches you as you move, curious. He's smirking, because he just cant help himself. 

And because he knows that you like it whenever he does. Gets you a little bit flustered.

One of your knees hooks over his lap, and then the other follows suit.

He'd have said you were straddling him. You'd have argued that you were simply reaching over to the AC.

And you do exactly that, flicking the switch, watching as it lights up. "There. Much better."

Touche, he thinks. Smiles. Grips your thighs, as if he's scared you'll stand up again. Scared to lose you.

In all honesty, he had been hoping you'd take your shirt off, but he isn't going to complain with you in his lap, instead.

Doesn't matter if you mix the eggs with the milk first, or the flour. You still bake a cake at the end of it all.

Jungkook looks at you in such a way that you find yourself thinking maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be so horrible to let someone in. His eyes are honest, void of ulterior motives. He's doing this because he wants to. Because he wants you.

Wants that feeling back. The one where his lips are cushioned between yours, his tongue licking into your mouth.

Jungkook wants what he wants. Jungkook gets what he wants.

And, fuck, if it isn't bare minimum - but you know this, and you don't care. Bare minimum tastes pretty fucking good when you're licking it from his lips.

His hands roam, and you let them. He's rough with his movements, but the fleshy pads of his fingertips are soft, like silk against your skin. It's almost like he's afraid, filled with the knowledge that he can bruise, if he really wants to.

But he doesn't want to. He wants to ask about the graze that's sitting pretty where blush should be. Jungkook doesn't wanna hurt. He wants to heal.

"I catch you looking, you know," you tell him before he gets a chance, wanting to see how he responds. "Every now and again..." He hikes you forward in his lap. Places you dead centre over his cock. You can feel it. He can feel you. "...I catch you looking at me." He presses a kiss against the base of your neck, obsessed with the way it vibrates when you speak. "Why are you always looking at me?"

The fact that you're sat in his lap, grinding your hips against a solid bulge, should be indication enough.

Jungkook isn't going to spell it out for you. The eroticism of suggesting he's a fucking voyeur makes him want to laugh - but the way your nipples are tenting the shirt you're wearing distracts him.

His teeth graze your throat, hands creeping round to your tummy. His fingers are long, practically the length of the expanse between your hips and the underneath of your plump tits. Just a little further and he'd be holding them, cupping them, caressing. Just a little further.

"I look at you-" His hands continue their exploration as he leans back, watching the movement beneath your shirt. It somehow feels forbidden - like he can touch, but not look. After all, your question had sounded quite a lot like a telling off. "-because you like me looking at you."

He's fucking with you, trying to get a rise.

"Do I?"

The way that you whimper as he brushes against your nipples has him pulsing his hips. Your eyes close, head tilting back ever so slightly. You like this. The way he does it.

"Uh-huh," he mumbles, lips wet against your neck. His fingers knead into the flesh of your tits, nipples hard in his palm as he relieves his stresses. "Bet you think about it all day, don't you? Think about the way I look at you when no-one else does."

Yes.

"All day?" you smirk between dulcet moans. "You're lucky if I pay you any attention at all."

"I think you're lying," he declares rather boldly, hands all over you. "I think it plays on your mind. I bet you fall asleep thinking about it, don't you?"

Yes.

"Ddaeng."

"I bet you get yourself off thinking about it."

Maybe you do. 

Maybe you've whispered his name in the dead of night, imagining how it would feel to have his body weight on top of yours. Maybe you get intrusive thoughts of that kiss every single time you try to draw close. Maybe Jungkook has made you cum without ever laying a single finger on you.

But even if he has, you won't tell him.

And you don't need to, because his phone buzzing on the bedside table behind you cuts the conversation dry. Jungkook glances towards it automatically, then back up to you. His frustration is evident, jaw tense.

"I gotta get this," he mumbles, encouraging you off of his lap. You don't resist, accepting the last five minutes for what they were: a momentary lapse in judgement. He sighs as he stands, adjusting his trousers, swiping his phone and putting it to his ear. He strolls just far enough away that you won't hear what or who is on the other line. "Hobi. Speak to me."

Hobi, you muse. A friend? A colleague? Another girl?

You swallow back the nauseating feeling in your throat, pretending as if the prospect of Jungkook with someone else doesn't chip away at your self-worth a little bit. It wasn't like you thought you had anything special between the pair of you.

But he was right. You did like him looking at you.

More than you had realised until the prospect of him looking at someone else arose.

From the corner of the room, you could hear Jungkook trying to interrupt the person he was talking to. The first syllable would escape, and then he'd hush again, never quite managing to get the words out in full.

"Ho-" His nostrils look quite cute when they flare, lips pursed, a pair of unique dimples becoming evident. They're different to the usual ones you notice. Full of surprises was Jeon Jungkook. 

"Hobi, can I-" 

He runs his hand through his hair, already dishevelled from your hands. 

"Hobi will you let me fucking talk!"

Attaboy.

The pause that follows Jungkook's outburst would suggest that Hobi had said 'no' - and then a few more choice words. If Jungkook rolled his eyes back any further, they'd surely get stuck.

"Look, I'm a bit tied up right now- no! No, not that. Who? No. I don't know a Taehyung, and even if I did- Huh? Ain't got nothin' to do with Holangi. Don't know a single one of 'em." 

You try to decipher the conversation, but fail. 

"You're a real fuckin' cockblock, yanno?" 

You blush. 

"Fuck it, fine. But you owe me. I'm not saying yes next time."

He glances over to you, catching your raised brow. Next time?

A smile catches on his lips. You thought this would be a one time thing?

He's barely hit second base. If there's one thing you're yet to find out about Jungkook, it's that he loves to win. He won't be satisfied until he's got a home run.

Any other girl, and he'd have probably been running laps for fun by this point, but you... yeah, you didn't bowl him easy hitters, that was for sure.

Jungkook moves with confidence, like he always does, as he strides over to the sofa, the bulge in his pants considerably softened but still present. "Take a picture," he grins. "It'll last longer."

You roll your eyes, but it doesn't stop you from asking if that's an offer. He laughs - that soft, gentle thrum of his vocal chords that sounds so heavenly in your ears - and tells you to behave.

"I just gotta help a friend out," he says as he reaches over you to grab his rucksack. It's heavier now than it ever is at school, the jingle of crushed tin foil rustling as it briefly catches on your knee. He pretends not to notice the curiosity in your eyes. Pretty eyes, though. He quite likes them, especially when he's towering above you and can see the whites just above your lashline. Yeah, he likes them alot. "I'll only be an hour or so. You can stay here, if you like?"

The way he phrases it is so casual that it's almost like you're old friends.

That, or Jungkook's just used to having women he doesn't know very well stay at his place.

You're unaware of the mental gymnastics he's putting himself through. If he could kick himself without looking like a twat, then he definitely would.

Shrugging, you give him a polite smile. "I don't wanna overstay my welcome."

"Nah, you're fine. I can give you a lift back to yours when I'm home? I'll be an hour. Two, tops."

Finally you agree, watching as he leaves like a lovesick puppy, listening out for the familiar rattle of his exhaust pipe. There's a cough and splutter of petrol spitting onto the sidewalk as his motor roars into action, and then he's gone.

You don't hang around for much longer.

You tell yourself that you will. That it would be nice. That you and Jungkook might not be so ill-suited after all.

But as the clock ticks by on the wall, you find yourself getting antsy. You find yourself asking stupid questions. Who exactly is Hobi? What was in Jungkook's bag? Why is he always down in Daerim? Is that where he's gone now?

The thoughts grow, adapt, intrude. Before you know it, you're considering what you'd find if you opened the top drawer of his bedside cabinet. 

Realistically, you know it would probably be a wank sock and a tub of vaseline - it doesn't matter though. Your mind is wondering. You need to scratch the itch.

Just a little peek. He'll never know.

Oh, how you loathe your brain.

What's the worst you could find? A revolver? His ex-girlfriends panties? Love letters? A crack pipe?

Somehow, you'd rather find a pipe than panties. 

It's not that you want Jungkook to be a crack addict. It's just the more that you think about it, the more you come to realise that you really, really don't like the idea of someone else feeling how warm his torso is, or how his upper teeth always nip slightly when he starts kissing you, until the pressure of his pecks plump his lips. You've only experienced it a handful of times, and it's stupid to get carried away, but he just makes it so easy.

He didn't ask you to stay, you tell yourself. He asked you if you wanted to.

Moments of instability like this are exactly why girls like you don't spend time with boys like him. It's stupid. Futile. A game for fools.

You leave his apartment as you found it, with not even a note to say thank you. He's had a squeeze on your tits. You deem that thank you enough. If anything, he should be thanking you.

When he returns, just half an hour after your departure, he can still smell your perfume. He tosses his keys down, calls out your name, and is met with silence. It takes him a moment or so to realise that he's alone.

There's a sinking feeling in his chest that he doesn't recognise. Doesn't like. Hates, in fact.

But fine. Fuck it. He didn't want you there anyway. He'd just been doing a good deed. Being kind because - if your face was any indication - obviously someone else had been particularly unkind to you.

Jungkook thinks he knows who, now.

Daerim nights have always been sketchy, but the days are no better. 

He's just the lowest rung on a long ladder of criminals who turn a profit when the sun goes down in Seoul.

Hobi had asked him to drop the stash in his rucksack off at a club, some gang-run joint that Jungkook doesn't know much about, so that he could get them back to his boss. 

That had been the plan, at least.

He slings his bag down, now empty, and sinks into the sofa, not bothering to get a rag to clean himself up. No point. The dried blood will just wash off in his shower. It's not the first time this has happened. He doubts it will be the last.

Jungkook's nose is currently bleeding, dripping down his chin and hitting the ceramic tiles of his apartment with small slaps. A bruise is forming above his left eye socket, and his knuckles are red.

A punch to the face means very little to Jungkook.

He's young, but he's strong. Fast, too. It could have been a lot worse if he wasn't.

He pushes the back of his hand against his nose, sniffing, before unlocking his phone, and dialing a number he knows now by heart.

The dial tone bleeds out, just like his nose.

And so he hangs up, and calls the only person he knows he can rely on.

"Wassup, kid?"

Jungkook doesn't mean to sob, but he cant help it. He knows Yoongi has finals coming up. He doesn't need his bullshit on his plate, too.

"I got jumped Yoongs."

Fuck.

"You alright? Sound pretty bad? Where?"

"Daerim-"

"The fuck you doing there at this time of day?"

"Hobi wanted me to drop off my stash."

"Kook..." Yoongi speaks slowly, coming to a horrific realisation. A few punches had never bothered Jungkook before. Something bigger was at play. "The stash...?"

Jungkook can hear it in Yoongi's voice: fear.

"Gone."

Yoongi sighs down the line. "Hobi know yet?"

"No."

"Alright, get outta your flat," Yoongi begins, not wasting time. Now is not the time for emotions, and it's clear that Jungkook isn't capable of that just yet. "I need you to go somewhere safe, somewhere you can lie-low for a little bit alright? Let me sort it-"

"Yoong-"

"Let me sort it. I got you into this mess. Don't sweat it."

"Ple-"

"Kook. Seriously. Trust me with this."

Yoongi doesn't let him debate it any further - and it's just as well he doesn't, because as soon as he hangs up the phone, another call comes through. Jungkook wants to answer it. Really, he does.

Jungkook's just very aware of the fact that the guy who jumped him had almost been waiting for him. Right by the entrance of the apartment block which he always picked you up from. 

In between blows, he'd warned Jungkook to 'stay the fuck away from the girl'.

The girl who's now returning his call.

"Hey," you say animatedly, having not expected him to call. You thought the pair of you would resume your usual awkward routine of pretending like nothing ever happened. "Sorry, I was in the shower. You good? Sorry I left, I just did-"

"I need a favour," he doesn't bother with formalities.

You want to banter with him, to flirt, but the tone of his voice warns you not to. So instead you tell him that you'll do whatever he needs.

"Can I come over?"

Fuck. Anything except that.

"Please."

YOU DON'T EXPECT to say yes. You don't expect to care more about him than you do about protecting your own dignity. You don't expect Jungkook to traipse down the stairs that lead to your slovenly open door with a glum look on his bloodsoaked face, as you stand there waiting for him.

But he does.

He makes no comment, no remark about the building. Just wraps his arms around your head, cradling you against his chest as you stand in your doorway. You can hear his heartbeat, thud, thud, thud against his ribs.

Go somewhere safe, Yoongi had told him. It was a no brainer.

"I'm sorry," he says, eventually pulling himself away from you. "I didn't know who else to ask."

You tell him it's fine, and you mean it. Keeping up pretences doesn't really matter so much anymore. Perhaps honesty was overdue from the both of you.

"The fuck happened to you?" You ask, tenderly reaching up to stroke away some of the dried blood from his lip. He winces, hisses, body tense, but he lets you continue. "Sorry."

"Could ask you the same, sugar," he speaks kindly, not wanting you to think he's being critical as he nods to the entryway behind you.

You grit your teeth together and let your hand rest on his shoulder. "King kicked the princess out of the castle."

And, suddenly, it doesn't seem embarrassing anymore. In fact, it seems perfectly apt that Jungkook knows. He doesn't pry, don't push for further clarification. Just nods. Accepts your reality.

"Castles are overrated, anyway," he presses a kiss to your head, and gently guides you through the threshold. The corridor is short, opening up to an open plan studio. The layout varies from Jungkook's, but it's similar in size. Small.

"Ignore the wallpaper," you say of the awkwardly granny-ish floral print. It's beige, so not totally offensive, but dear god, you think it looks like vomit.

"No," he grins. "It's... wow. Your landlord really knows how to make a statement, don't they?"

You perch on your bed and cringe. "A statement... a crime against interior design. Whatever you wanna call it."

Jungkook continues to pace around your room with a curious smile. He's partially deflecting from the fact he knows you're probably dying to ask about his face, and why he was so desperate to be with you, but he's also interested in the life you neglected to share with him.

Brown cardboard boxes are piled high in the corners, your possessions not yet unboxed.

This place is just temporary.

You've got three and a half million won sat on your desk. A couple more weeks, just a few, and you'll have enough for a deposit on a decent flat. Then you can get a regular job, something stable, and you won't have to worry. You could work through the summer and then figure out what to do next. Just as long as you keep on moving upwards, you'll be happy.

"So," you begin gingerly, as you head to the kitchenette beside your bed, wetting a cloth beneath your tap. "You gonna tell me what happened to your face?"

He takes your previous position, inviting himself to sit on the end of your bed, anticipating your return. There's light coming in from the thin windows by your ceiling, hitting directly onto your back. He thinks it's apt. Thinks you're the kind of girl who deserves a spotlight. Thinks that Mother Nature agrees.

Jungkook shrugs, in that lazy, boyish way he so often does, as you walk towards him. He spreads his legs, encouraging you between them, letting his hands graze your thighs. You pretend not to notice as you press the damp cloth to his cheek. Tiny crows legs appear at the edges of his eyes, face wincing from the contact. It's painful.

But being alone would be more painful. He chose to be here. To be with you.

And so he tells you what happened, with as much honesty he can muster. There are some things better left unsaid, his occupation being one of them. You listen attentively, dabbing at his wounds, a frown etched into the lines of your face.

"Stay away from the girl, huh?" you muse, avoiding his eyes as you study his face. His nose is still bleeding, but every time you tell him to tilt his head towards the ceiling, it ends up back in its original position. He can't see you as well with his head tilted back. Doesn't like it. Doesn't wanna do it. "Could be any girl."

Jungkook's dimple forms in his cheek. "No. No, it couldn't."

His fingers that have been grazing at your thighs squeeze tenderly, letting you know he means it. More than he thinks you know. More than he knows he should.

There's a chance that any words spoken between the pair of you could be misconstrued. He doesn't know what his feelings for you are, and you don't really understand yours for him - but you understand your body, and the electric current running beneath your lips, dying for a connection. A little spark.

So you do the only thing that makes sense: you kiss him.

And he kisses you back. Slowly, tenderly, deliberately. His lips melt into yours, hand pulling your legs closer. He encourages you onto his lap, as if he needs to be insufferably close to you. Once you're positioned how he wants, just like you were earlier, he grips your waist, keeping you stationed there.

Jungkook knows he should stop.

He knows he should have paid attention to the pair of fists that warned him off you as his skull hit the pavement earlier that morning, knows he shouldn't let himself get so wrapped up in such a red flag - but he just can't help himself. It's like you're laced in the narcotics he deals, and slowly but surely, you've gotten him addicted.

He's craving. Dying for a hit. Just a little taste of your tongue on his, the scent of your shampoo in his nose.

Red flags, red stop signs, pretty red lips all plump from the kisses he's smothering them in. Red blood, too. His nose is still a little damaged, and the way he's painting your cheek in crimson should repulse you.

Should repulse you.

Like fuck it does, though. You can smell the copper twinge through his plasma, and suddenly it's as if the Cullen's had the right idea all along.

When he pulls back, only for a moment, hands clutching at the side of your face to assess the look in your eyes, he notices it too. Hard not to. You blush all the fucking time, so much so that he knew the shade by heart, and the rouge on your cheek is far too vibrant, too scarlet. It's his fucking blood on you.

It should scare him, he knows. But the way you're looking at him, eyes all wide and glassy, lips swollen and waiting for more, has him unable to think straight. It has him obsessed, the way you don't care. The way he's covered you in blood and you still seem to want more.

But there's a softness to the way in which you're looking at him, mild confusion, as if you've got the same strange warmth running through your veins as he does. It's not a feeling he recognises, pulsing through his bloodstream with every beat of his heart.

Perhaps it's nothing. Jungkook tells himself that it is. Just adrenaline, probably.

You look at his lips, all crimson and blushed, and realise you much prefer the shade of his blood to the plum lipstick that had tainted them the night before. You're delicate as you wipe your thumb along his pouted bottom lip, just like you did in the bar. Except this time, the jealousy that had blossomed in your diaphragm is nowhere to be found. There's still a pinch beneath your ribs, but this time it's in your heart, and it's far more aching. This time, you feel his hurt.

Jungkook reaches down to where you left the damp cloth on your bed. It's wet and heavy in his hand, a little warm, too. He brings it to your face and dabs silently, cleaning you of the mess he's made. Fixing you. Restoring you to your former glory.

Its futile, 'cause his nose is still fucking bleeding, and you don't plan on leaving it more than a moment before you kiss him again. You simply don't care. Want him for all that he is, blood, sweat and tears.

But still, he insists on ridding you of his stain. Doesn't want to tarnish you. He's soft with the way he presses the cloth against you, mirroring how tenderly you were with him earlier. He's learning from you, adapting to you. Wants to be like you. Wants to be 'better'.

You watch as his eyes scan your face, brows twisted like they always do when he's about to say something but stops himself. The vertical groove just above his cupid's bow is red, blood tacky as it dries. If he kisses you now, he'll leave a stamp; a mark that says 'you're mine.'

It's too much. Far too much. You aren't his, and he knows this. He never wanted you to be his, in fact, for the longest time, he had wanted to be anything but yours.

But now he sits beneath you, crestfallen, heart in his throat, blocking him from speaking.

This was never part of the plan. He was never supposed to end up here. He was supposed to escape from the trenches, to get on the path of straight and narrow. Thrive. Succeed.

And it's not your fault, he knows this, but there's a little part of him that wonders what could have happened if he hadn't seen you that night in Daerim, hadn't seen the way your eyes look beneath night market lights, hadn't heard your laugh as he looked at his favourite view of the city.

You whisper his name, your palm resting flat on his chest, and his brows soften.

It doesn't matter what could have happened, anymore.

All that matters is what is happening.

The shortness of his breath, the flutter of his lashes against your cheek, the swelling between his legs. You can feel it, feel him, and he knows it. The way he's pulsing his hips upwards is testament to that.

It's a comfortable position, you sat on his lap on the end of your bed, not one that either of you wishes to break from. Not even as he begins to breathe against your lips, unable to properly control his reactions thanks to the friction beneath his briefs.

"Want you," he mumbles, pressing his lips into yours, the air in his lungs giving itself up to you. "Want you so bad."

You shake your head, brows pinched just a little. "I'm bad news for you."

And maybe that's it. Maybe he just wants you because he knows he shouldn't - but fuck it, if he can't let himself indulge in simple pleasures, then why bother getting himself beaten to a pulp over you?

"I'm bad news for myself, sugar," he husks against your lips, tickling them as he slips his tongue into your mouth. Deeper, deeper. Closer, closer. He wants it.

Wants it all.

Wants you naked.

Wants to know what it feels like to have you gasp in his ear as his hands roam beneath your panties.

Wants to know if you'd still look at him like you're stargazing even when he's railing you.

Wants it. Wants you. Just wants.

And what Jungkook wants, Jungkook gets.

He slips his hand up your shirt and pushes it upwards, before letting it crumple to the floor. You know that you should be more bashful, a little bit ashamed, but it's impossible when he's looking at you like this.

He has a visual now that he didn't have earlier. The glow of your skin beneath his bruised knuckles looks almost sinful, like he's plucking forbidden fruit from its tree. He'll pay the price for this, and he knows it, but he just can't resist.

Jungkook has always been a boob guy, always loved the way he could get girls moaning with just a little pinch, but never had he had a pair quite like yours. So full, so round, he's not sure his hands are big enough, and that doubt makes him throb. Soft and pillowy, he groans as he watches his fingers sink into them, utterly enthralled. His hips adjust, pushing upwards, pressing himself into you. He wants this. Wants it so bad.

You can feel the metal of his rings against your skin, and then you can feel his lips, his tongue, his teeth as they graze against the plush skin of your chest. He licks around your nipple, letting the air cool the wet trail, hardening you for him.

He's utterly obsessed.

His mouth pulls at the sensitive skin, suckles, sucks. His lashes are splayed on the tops of his cheeks, lips pouting around your nipple as he does so, small groans of pleasure vibrating against you. It will be a miracle if he can't already feel you seeping through your panties.

You whimper as his teeth graze your hardened nub, and his eyes flutter open. He doesn't detach himself, but instead, he keeps your gaze as he sucks. The pressure varies, and then it's hard. Really fucking hard. So hard you'll think he'll somehow give your nipple a hickey - but fuck, if you don't love the sensation.

"Christ," you gasp, before biting down into your bottom lip.

"Too hard?" He mumbles against you, peppering you in kisses and soft licks as if to apologise.

"No," you pant. "Was good. Was great. Just - fuck."

You laugh, soft and airy, and Jungkook smiles from the sound.

He likes this. Likes how you react to him.

And while he’s patient and gentle with you in a way that he isn't with other people, Jungkook has only ever known how to have sex in one way. It's ingrained into him, as if he was made to fuck like it; like he doesn't give a shit about the person he's screwing.

Jungkook doesn't do love, and you know this. He trades. Works in transactions. Settles debts. You don't really know this part, but you aren't stupid. You know he's never in Daerim for any good fucking reason.

You don't question it as his hands move south, slipping past your underwear. In fact, you're smug as he curses when he feels how wet you are, fingers slippery in your panties.

He pushes a finger into you, and closely follows it with a second. They curl ever so slightly, and it's at this point that you realise Jungkook is absolutely going to ruin you. Just a few pumps. Just to ease you up.

He's bored of waiting. Wants you now.

The pair of you move fluidly, minimal discussion needed, just occasional checks of 'you good?', or 'this okay?'. The answer is, always, without a doubt, 'yes'.

He gets you on your back, panties pulled off, legs not quite hanging off the edge of your bed, but nearly. He strips himself of his shirt first, and grins as he notices the way you whine.

"What?" he toys.

"Nothing," you flirt. "Just wish you'd hurry up. I'm a busy woman."

"Oh yeah?" The sound of his buckle coming undone is enough to make you fucking leak. "Busy doing what?"

You neglect to tell him. Not because you don't have a witty remark lined up, but because he's fucking naked now.

What a sight to behold he is. Body lean, honey skin flawless, muscles defined. You pretend like you're looking at his body, but your eyes are drawn to his cock. You'd expected length, but not the girth - and he has both in abundance. The tip of his cock is blushed and wet, with Jungkook just as aroused as you are.

Noticing your gaze, he rolls his eyes, and toys with your pussy again, lightly running his fingers up and down your slick entrance. When he pulls back, his fingers are still connected by thick clear fluid. His cock throbs.

"You're gonna get me so dirty," he hums, as he crawls onto the bed above you, before holding his fingers to your mouth. "Clean them."

Part of you wants to say no, but the other part of you can see his darkened gaze and the way his cock is twitching. You can't refuse.

His fingers are on the tip of your tongue, the tip of his cock nudging so close to your entrance that he may as well just do it. You raise your hips, encouraging, but he retracts a little just to tease.

The fingers that were in your mouth come to grip at the soft flesh of your cheeks, his thumb on the other side. "Don't you fucking dare."

There's tepid aggression to his movements, and it makes you feel vulnerable - but you like it. You like the way he's gripping your face, the ways he's looking at you with narrow eyes, just like he used to do across the lecture hall. You like being reminded of when you were nothing to one another, because it makes the satisfaction of feeling his stiff cock jump a little against your pussy as you moan so much more worth it.

He used to hate you, now he can't wait to bury his fat cock in you. Victory is yours, even if he's trying to act like he's the one holding all the cards.

You don't correct him, though. You let him think he has the upper hand. You'll play pillow princess just this once if it means you get to see him a little bit mean again.

"Dare what?" you pout, cheeks still squished between his fingers. He grips a little tighter, your chest rising as you gasp. He pulls your face towards his, sinking down into your lips, until he decided he's done with you.

He stands by the edge of your bed, and yanks your ankles towards him, pulling you close enough to the edge for him to fuck you like this.

The loss of his grip is unwelcome by you, a frown forming. He isn't looking at your face now, eyes down on his cock, which he's rubbing between your soaked pussy lips, but he can almost hear you brace yourself to whine. He smirks, one side of his mouth lifting, head knocking to the side slightly.

"Don't you dare try and set the pace," he finally husks, still not glancing up towards you. He's taking his time, making sure the head of his cock kisses every inch of your exposed mess. "Nearly got my nose fucking broken for this pussy-" he spits, hard and fast, right onto your clit, spreading it with his cock. "- so I'm gonna make sure I get what I'm owed."

He spreads your thighs back, his fingers gripping harshly just how you like it. Perhaps you should pretend to be embarrassed by the fact your cunt is leaking for him, begging for him, but the way he hisses at the sight, chest heaving, prevents it.

Jungkook's thought about this before, about how pretty and pristine you'd be, about the mess he'd hoped you'd make. Thought about it so many times. Fingers wrapped around his shaft in the middle of the night when no one can hear him chant your name as he spills over. Yeah, he's thought about it a lot.

His imagination has never done you justice. One look and he's obsessed. Wants to spend hours touching, caressing, licking you.

"Take it," you whisper. "What you're owed, Jungkook. Take it."

He looks up now, brows threaded together. You don't recognise the contemplation his face is laced in, but he doesn't give you the chance to question it, for you begin to feel that burn. The one your fingers can never give you. It's alien, and yet familiar, inherently natural but intrusive nonetheless.

"Shit," is all you can manage to say, eyes locked on his.

He wants to watch himself sink into you, watch as his fat cock forces your slick wetness out of your pussy, but he can't. Not when you're looking at him like that. Not when your chest is heaving and your eyes are watering beneath tense brows. Not when your mouth is hanging open and just begging to be fucked like your tight little pussy.

And then he starts feeling something a little strange. A little unfamiliar. A little bit like his heart has stalled to beat in time with the contractions of your chest. And though he's not in pain anymore, too busy feeling you, he's aware that it hurts. Aware that he can't fuck you like he wanted to, 'cause his chest needs to be against yours. Needs to feel the beating drum beneath your ribs.

He doesn't even realise that he's paused until you whine a meagre, "please."

"That's more like it," he hums, as he pushes into you, the base of his thick cock plugging the weeping mess that he's made. You know that as soon as he pulls out, you'll be whimpering, begging for the tip of his cock to kiss your walls once more. "See how nice things can be when you just behave yourself, huh?"

His hips push just a little deeper, and he knows that it hurts. Knows that the little gasp isn't entirely from pleasure. He's seen his cock. Doesn't take a genius to work out that it can do damage.

"You can take it," he tells you, and like a pathetic, whimpering mess, you fucking nod. He's still inside of you, still deeper than you thought possible, and then his hand is on your stomach. He grabs your hand and places it beneath his. "You feel that?" He retracts just a little, pushing back in just as deep. Beneath your hands, there's a bulge. External or internal, it doesn’t matter. It's him. He does it again. "You feel me taking what's mine?"

Whatever the fuck you moan is incoherent, but he doesn't give a shit, 'cause he's ploughing now. Bucking his hips into you like pneumatic fucking drill. Shit. He's done this before. Got it mastered to a fine art. Momenta worthy of a museum exhibition.

Your tits are pillowed on your chest, nice and round, wobbling as he takes command of your body. He slaps one of them, just to watch it ripple, before that firm grip of his is on it. "Perfect tits," he growls the compliment, not really meaning for it to come out. "Gonna put my cock between them later," he tells you. "Gonna cum all over them."

He doesn't tell you that he'll also clean them with his hungry tongue, before delivering his cum into your mouth. Figures he'll just let you find out. His brain is working at a mile a minute, trying to reign back thoughts of sharing his cum with you in such a filthy manner. God, he wants to do heinous things to you. With you. For you.

But for now, he needs to focus on his cock. It's rubbing inside of you, nuzzling. He knows he's weeping, and that his precum is getting mixed with your slick juices. Knows he won't last long if you keep whining like that. Mewling. Purring.

He stalls his hips, letting go of your tits as they jiggle back into position. Your cheeks are flushed, imprints of his fingers reddening your skin. Lips pouted and resting ajar, Jungkook thinks they've never looked more fuckable. More kissable. More whisper-sweet-nothings-against-able.

"You ever shut the fuck up?" he teases, but is quick to notice confusion flash in your eyes. He didn't mean it as an insult, but it's easy to read the hurt in your perplexed features, and the way you begin to try and push your legs together. It's futile. His cock is keeping you open.

But you feel embarrassed, as if your natural reactions to him are a turn-off. It's silly, because he's quite literally inside of you, fat and solid, using you to milk himself. Of course, he's not turned off, but you're hyper-aware of how vulnerable you're feeling right now. It had been fun to pretend like you were in control, but as soon as he slipped inside of you, all sense of power had evaporated.

He doesn't realise this though. Doesn't realise that his cock is nudging so deep into you that it's practically knocking against your heart. Knock, knock, knock. Who's there? Your mind taunts, but you daren't answer.

"Hey," he coos, one of his large palms stroking on the inside of your thighs. That uncomfortable, obscure feeling is back again. The one that tells him he needs to be closer to you. This time, he doesn't ignore it. His hips pulse, just the once. A reminder he's still very much into this. Into you.

His hands grip your waist, softly this time, as he manoeuvres himself onto the bed with you, keeping himself snug. Your head is by the pillows, Jungkook's knees on either side of your ass, his chest flat against yours as one of his hands cradles your jaw. He presses a chaste, airy kiss against your lips, and whispers, "I love the way you sound." He kisses you again, hips rocking. You're trying not to, but you whine. "Fuck, sugar. You're my favourite fucking sound."

Your legs hook over his back, and he groans now. The angle change lets him delve deeper, your walls massaging him so well. Jungkook thinks he might have died and gone to heaven. He's slipping in and out of you with minimal force, skin slapping together. He makes sure to let his moans roll off his tongue and into your mouth. You eat them up and give them back. The pair of you aren't kissing anymore, just gasping and humming into one another's mouths. He's stuttering.

There's a pause as he adjusts his grip, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs. He likes it, the way you seem to melt around him in all capacities. His lips nudge against yours as his steady hips begin to rock into yours again.

You groan as he pushes down on your legs, pushing you as far apart as your bones allow. It's typical of him, seeing how far he can take things. Push them to the limit. Always gets him in trouble. There's a click, as air escapes from the socket where your leg meets your pelvis.

"You good?" He checks and you respond with a kiss. Hands tangled in his hair, you hope it conveys the fact you've never felt better. He laughs a little, soft and serene, into your mouth, the weight of his body keeping you trapped beneath him.

You're morbid in your thoughts, and consider how nice it would be for Jungkook to suffocate you like this; steal you of the air you breathe with his tiny giggles of satisfaction. So, so nice, you think.

And so you tell him. You tell him that you want his hand on your throat. He takes a second to respond - not because he doesn't want to, but more so because he can't believe you actually asked.

He doesn't normally fuck the girls he cares about like this. Then again, he never really cares about the girls he fucks.

"God," you moan as he pushes one of your legs over his shoulder. His body is clammy against yours, skin hot and damp, chest lean but built. He's working hard; not just for his release. For yours too. Rams into you, stuffing your cunt with his cock, dipping his head to lather your clasped throat in wet kisses.

"That's it, sugar," he growls as his teeth graze your neck. "Need to hear how good you feel. Need to hear what my cock does to you. You owe me."

You want to laugh. You're about to laugh. But then his head dips down to your chest, and he latches onto one of your pebbled nipples, sucking so hard that all you can do is tremble. He knows you like this. Knows it makes your pussy all creamy and slippery for him - and like clockwork, he's proven right. The sounds are lewd. He loves it.

"On your back," you husk, punctuating your instruction with a whimper as he suckles even harder. He shakes his head, eyes closed, mouth vibrating and full of your tit. Not a chance, he tries to say, but it just sounds likes he's forgotten how to speak. Too busy. Too close to spilling himself into you. Doesn't wanna get distracted.

So focused, he doesn't realise you're pushing him over until you're on top. He frowns as he detaches from your nipple with a pop, but his hands are running all over your body regardless. Obviously doesn't care that much. Course he doesn't. That ache in his chest has settled.

Until he starts thinking about it, and oh god, it's back and it's fucking unbearable.

"C'mere," he pulls you flush against him, as your hips begin to work against him. His hands cradle your face so he can kiss you as deeply as he likes, tongue slipping into your mouth, as his cock slips up and down your pussy. This, he thinks, is it. This is what fucking should feel like.

"Shit," he whispers. "Shit."

The friction of his surprisingly neat hair that rests at the base of his cock is nice. Real fuckin' nice. You're not even fucking him anymore, just grinding against it. Using it, using him, to get yourself off.

You think you're being slick, like he won't notice - but he does. Of course, he does. He's obsessed with your body.

"God, yeah, baby," his back arches, pressing his chest against yours, eyes closed. "Use me like that. Use me," he bites into your shoulder gently. "Fucking use me."

He means it. Doesn't give a shit about himself anymore. Just wants to feel you tremble as he holds you close. Wants to press kisses against your lips as your moans become undignified. He needs to be the reason you cum; needs to be responsible for your oxytocin rush.

You sit up a little, and Jungkook holds back a pout from the separation - but how can he complain when you're sat like that, his cock buried inside of you, hair a mess and with eyes like his favourite constellation? He's hypnotised as your boobs begin to bounce, pussy working up his shaft like the true Daerim woman of the night you are. He's forgotten about all of that, now. Can't think about anything except for how to not fucking cum.

He can't and he won't. Not until you do. But you're bouncing, and it's wet, and he can hear it, and it feels so fuckin' good. His toes are curling, torso tensing, eyes half-shut, pretty little pout hanging open. He's fucking whining. "Yeah like that," he encourages. "Gonna milk me so well, baby. Gonna... ah. Fuck. Gonna-"

Jungkook can't fucking speak. He wants to. Wants to tell you how fucking beautiful you look, how he wants this endlessly, how he never wants to let you go. Needs to tell you how right this feels, how good you make him feel, how he doesn't understand his feelings but fuck, just that he is feeling. Feeling so much.

You're not sure at which point he started calling you baby, but you're actually convinced that the name alone could tip you over the edge.

The pace of your hips is slowly, savouring. He doesn't quite get it. You were so close. Why stop?

The stillness of your movements makes way for something new. He feels a throb around his fat cock, which is begging for release. Notices the way your chest is shaking like you've got hiccups, tiny whines of pleasure making themselves known. Your pussy was always warm, but it's hot now, contracting around him.

And then he gets it.

"Oh, shit," he mewls, his hips slowly pumping upwards. "Yeah, that's it, baby. Let yourself cum. All over my dick," he encourages, hedonistic and self-serving. "That's it. Cream for me."

His slow movements as he fucks up into you amplify the sensation, the tip of his cock nudging languidly against your tight walls. Your entire body shudders, the feeling rippling from your chest right down to your toes. You rasp out moans, the sensation all too powerful, a creamy mess pooling at the base of his shaft. There's a jerk as your muscles spasm, your orgasm well and truly delivered. He pulls you down and into his chest, his strong arms wrapped around your back.

Your body rests on his, spent and sensitive, and he can tell you can't hold out for much longer. He pushes back the hair that's sticking to your clammy face, and presses kisses into your temple.

"So big," you hum, voice hazy, eyes shut.

"Just a little more, baby," he promises. " You're doing so well. Just a little..."

You've considered how Jungkook would orgasm on more than one occasion - and you're pleasantly surprised to find that your imagination was wrong. There's no grand declaration, nor large grunt. He's not aggressive, either, like you'd half-hoped he would be.

Instead, Jungkook kisses you as his hips begin to stall. His brows are creased, moans muffled against your lips. His torso shudders, abdomen as tight as his balls. "Baby," he drowsily mewls, and then it's happening. His cock pumps into you, unloading thick creamy spurts with every stroke of your pussy. The first one is so desperate that you're almost positive you can feel it paint your insides. You moan along with him, utterly obsessed with this, him, whatever the fuck just happened.

He doesn't withdraw immediately. Just lays there and kisses your skin, absolutely spent.

You don't move a muscle. You don't want it to be over. Don't wanna lose this. Lose him.

When you tilt your head to look at him, he's smiling. Eyes closed, cheeks appled. Serene. In a state of fucked-out bliss.

You tell him that he's pretty, and he lets out an airy laugh, covering his face with one of his hands. You move his hand and watch him fondly, enthralled with the grin that he's struggling to fight.

He turns to look at you, and the smile he's been boasting amplifies. "God, you're gorgeous."

It's not a new observation; just one he's never voiced before. One that he was able to resist saying. But you're naked now, chest pillowed against his, eyes glowing and nose blushed.

You hum, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. "I'm glad you chose to come here."

Just like that, there's a knot in Jungkook's stomach that seems to anchor that feeling he keeps having.

"Yeah," he nods. "Me too."

IT'S THREE IN the afternoon by the time you wake from your post-fuck snooze. Jungkook's never had one of those before. Hated being sticky after sex with anyone else. Always had to shower - but with you, he wants to stick to you like glue.

"Should have filmed that," he hums, the tips of his fingers stroking up your arms. You aren't sure if he's joking or not. "Would have given us a unique take on the project. Probably wouldn't have gotten us very high grades, mind you, but art is subjective."

"Some would argue that the critique of art is objective," you muse back, still blissfully cum-drunk from the events prior to your nap. Jungkook's nose has stopped bleeding, and the pair of you have almost forgotten the reason he showed up in the first place. "Documentary maker by night, porn star by day," you flirt. "Although it's cute that you think you fuck like a porn star."

"I felt you shaking," he says, knowing there's no possible way that you didn't enjoy it. His nose feels a little cold after all the trauma of the morning, so he buries it into your hair. "Can't fake that."

"That's what I'm saying," you simper, pressing a kiss against his bare torso, just below the meeting of his collarbones. And then another, simply for good measure. "Porn stars never actually look like they're making the woman feel any good." You trail down his chest, tongue licking gently at the darker skin around his nipple. "You... yeah you don't fuck like a porn star." And then you suck a little. He hisses, in the best possible way. 

"Don't," he says. "Not ready to go again."

You laugh. 

Jungkook thinks he's reached Nirvana. Almost certain, in fact. Never had a girl do that to him before. He loves to give it, but hasn't ever thought to receive it. Wonders what other things you'll do to him that he's never had done before. He can feel his cock fucking twitching again, achy and sore, definitely not recovered yet from how hard he went earlier - but god, he wants it. Wants to bury himself inside you again. Belong to you.

His hands paw at you, one gripping on your chest, the other on your ass, pulling you closer. Your leg hooks over him, and he can feel how wet you still are on the side of his thigh. His balls fucking tighten. He can feel it happening, blood rushing to his crotch. 

Yet despite it all, he just kisses you. Softly. Tenderly. Merely his lips languid between yours. Withdraws slowly. Keeps his eyes closed. Bliss.

"The fuck have you done to me, sugar?" he whispers, dark eyes opening to look into yours. His speech is husky, like he trying to steal the answers of a pop-quiz from you. You can't help him. You don't have a clue what the answer is. You're just as stuck as he is. "Got me feeling all fuzzy 'n' shit."

"Just a sugar rush," you smile. "It'll pass."

You're both acutely aware that it won't, but that will be a problem for another day.

"Tell you what," Jungkook muses, though his thoughts are shallow. He's not digging deep. Just talking for the sake of it. "I might not fuck like a porn star, but you don't fuck like a hooker." 

He pulls your arm up so that he can study the crease of your elbow. You let him move your body like you're a barbie doll. You'll be his toy, you think, if he wants. No bother. 

His fingers press at the thin skin that covers your veins, inspecting. 

"Not a scratch," he assesses. "So you're not an addict either."

You laugh, slightly amused. "No? Maybe I just don't inject."

Jungkook gives you a stern look. Hopes you're joking. Tells you that you better fucking be joking. The sweetness of your laughter tells him that you are.

"So?" you press. "I'm not a prostitute and I'm not an addict. It's your lucky day. What of it?"

Jungkook tilts his head down so that his nose is nestled into the crown of your head again. Comforting, he thinks. Smells like laundry. You must have washed your sheets recently. 

His next statement takes you off guard. 

"Only ever see three kinds of women down in Daerim." 

And you know.

You know he knows. 

You can feel it in the way he protectively presses his lips into your skull, as if he's Prince Charming trying to rid his Sleeping Beauty of the nightmare she's been living. Wake up.

But Prince Charming rides a white horse, not a petrol-spitting, air-cooled, steel-framed shadow that rips through the city at night. 

There are no nightmares, either. You're already wide awake. There's no saving you. 

He sighs against your head. Pauses. Resists, and then confronts. 

"I know what you do in the dark, sugar."

You don't say anything for a moment, and then you're pulling away from him, reaching for your shirt. He doesn't like this. Misses your warmth, but doesn't stop you. Instead, he follows, sitting on the edge of your bed, the corner of your comforter lazily protecting his modesty. His muscles are relaxed now, a little crease in his stomach from the way that he's slouching, hands in his lap. Those Bambi eyes of his are peaking through his hair, cheeks red and grazed from the morning encounter he'd had in Daerim.

He watches as you pull your shirt over your head, hair just as messy as his, and a graze on your cheek to match. He was pretty certain before that it had been carpet burn, but now that he's seen it up close, softly rubbed his thumb against it during pretty kisses, he's sure of it.

You avert his gaze. Feel shameful. Hate that he knows. You never cared before. It was just a fun little secret, the fact that he didn't know you were no angel. 

But you want him to think that you're one, now. 

For a moment, you were sure that he had. 

Instead, now, it feels like you're falling from grace.

He reaches for your hand, but you pull it back. "Please don't."

And so he doesn't. Just sits for a little while instead. "Do you want me to get dressed?"

You really don't. 

But your tongue is lodged in your mouth and it won't budge. You turn away, internally furious with yourself. It's been a while since you've gotten like this; so dreadfully panicked that you can't talk. It's a once in a blue moon kind of thing, the early onset of a panic attack, but you're hoping it won't reach the stage of no return. Praying.

"Babe?"

He sounds worried now, and it's making it worse. Feels like you've just reached the top of Bukhan Mountain without taking a second to catch your breath. 

Has your chest always been this tight? Or has someone just been wrapping rubber bands around your torso without you noticing? 

It isn't possible, and you know this, but it feels like it and - oh God - you can hear him shuffling, the buckle of his belt clanging. He's leaving, he's leaving, he's leaving, your ribs cackle as they close down on your lungs. 

There's a light hum behind you, like a wasp is coming to send you into a state of anaphylactic shock and then it stops. His jeans are tossed to the floor once more.

"Yoongi?" Jungkook speaks quietly behind you into the receiver of his phone. "Wassu- Yeah, yeah, I'm safe. I'm good."

I'm safe. 

I'm good.

"Where are- Yoongi stop. Stop it. I'm being deadly fucking serious-"

You don't realise it, but your chest begins to mellow as you listen in to his conversation. 

"It's my mess!" He shouts now. "I'll fucking fix it. I don't give a fuck what Hobi says. Where you at? The Zoo? I'll be there- Yes, I will. Don't do anything fucking stupid."

And then he hangs up, chucking his phone into your bed with more aggression than he'd ever wanted to show in your presence. You don't see it, back still turned, but you hear it, the way his phone rebounds against the springs of your mattress.

"Shit," he hisses, and when you turn to face him, you find that his head is in his hands, elbows on his knees.

Crouching by him, your chest expands. You don't give a shit about yourself anymore. Your palms rest just behind his elbows, eyes anchored below his, looking up. 

"He's got his fucking final in an hour," is all Jungkook says. "He's gonna miss his fucking final."

He lifts his head, tender lips pouted, eyes bloodshot from the pressure he's been placing on his palms. Looks right at you. Decides he'll never trust another pair of eyes more.

"I know what you do in the dark, sugar," he relays. "But I do worse. So much fucking worse. And I've just gone and fucked it all up."

And while he blames it all on himself, you know it's your fault. 

He didn't stay away from the girl. He tempted fate, tugged on the red string, and accidentally snapped it.

Forlorn, he slumps, tongue wetting his bottom lip as he bites down on it. It's only to stop it from trembling. Clouds lurk in his eyes, trying to block his vulnerabilities from you, but it doesn't take a genius to work out that he's scared. 

"Take it," you say, lips in a flat line, eyes stern. You nod towards the pile of cash on your desk, and his eyes follow. "Take it. Pay your debts. I can earn it again. I don't have a deadline. You do."

He shakes his head.

"I'm not taking the money you've earned."

"Yes, you are."

"I'm not," he protests and you've got it in your right mind to slap his pretty face silly. "Gonna be totally honest," he adds, "Don't really want your sugar baby money. Kinda resent it a little. Resent the fucker who gave it to you."

Jungkook hates him. 

Doesn't know him.

Loathes him.

"So then give him the middle finger and take it," you plead. "He got you fucked up into this mess, he got you jumped, he got your stash stolen. Take his money and get yourself and Yoongi out of it. You don't have time to be fucking arguing with me."

He wants to fight back. You stop him.

"We can argue later," you promise.

And that ever-present effervescent feeling is back in his chest. 

"Sugar," he speaks quietly. "Don't do this."

"Kook," you respond, voice much firmer than his. "You gotta do this. Yoongi shouldn't be fixing your mistakes and you know it. We can work it out on an I.O.U. basis. It's okay."

"I.O.U. suggests I'm gonna keep seeing you for a while," Jungkook mumbles. He isn't feeling as confident in himself as he had done earlier. 

You stand, offering your hand to him so that you can pull him up with you. Neither of you acknowledge the fact that he's stark bollock naked. It's really not the time. Nothing you haven't seen before, after all.

"Well, yeah," you shrug with a straight face, but there's a glint in your eye. "I'd hope so. Pretty sure you said you were fuck my tits later? Gotta hold up your end of the bargain, sugar."

And despite it all, he laughs, toying with your hands before slipping his finger between yours. "Don't call me that."

"Why not?" You squeeze his hands. "You're technically my sugar baby now."

"That's not how it works."

God, he knows he shouldn't be fucking about, wasting time flirting, but he just can't help himself.

"No?" You question, equally distracted.

"No," he says. "If you're paying me, and I'm fucking you, then that makes me a hooker."

He's not wrong. 

"Oh, that's kinda hot," you smile, pulling gently on his hands to encourage him to lean down. He does as he's told, and kisses you like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"You're so fucked up," he whispers against you, knowing that it's exactly why he enjoys you so much.

You don't let the moment linger, though, tossing him his clothes and going to grab the money while he dresses himself. You stack it together, all nice and neat, using the desk to straighten the edges. The wedge is thick in your hands. Yellow 50's are laughing at you. Stupid girl thought we'd fix her problems, they chatter silently to one another.

"Three and half million won," you hold it out to Jungkook. He hesitates, so you force his grip around it and let go. It's his problem, now. Not yours. You smile so warmly that Jungkook can't help but let that feeling in his chest simmer. Your hair is still messy, mascara still smudged. He wants to kiss your cheeks. 

Jungkook hasn't disclosed what exactly was in his bag.

But in the same way he knows there are only three types of women in Daerim, you know there are equally only three types of men.

There's only one demographic that he belongs to. Yoongi, too. 

You don't say it explicitly, not like he does. 

"Holangi are nasty fuckers," you acknowledge. "I know they raise the stakes just for the fun of it. Whatever got stolen, the street value doesn't matter. Take it all. You'll need it."

Take what I owe you.

When he kisses you goodbye, it's just like the first time; all breathy and needy, lips parted and pouting. Again and again, he presses down into your lips. His brows furrow, hands on your cheeks, chest pressed against yours.

The crimson paint that had stained you from his very first kiss returns. You're painted in red for the second time that morning, but this time only you can see it. Only you can feel it.

That's her. That's the girl who let Jeon Jungkook kiss her like he actually meant it. 

But it's funny now, because you know that he does mean it.

When he finally leaves, his nose is blushed, his cupids bow too. Eyes glassy. Smile forlorn.  

Disappointingly, as you close the door of your apartment when he's no longer in your line of sight, you remember exactly how Jungkook had kissed you for the first time:

Like it was going to be the last.

And it consumes you, because the kiss you just shared felt exactly the same.

Your chest is uncomfortable again, but it's not rubber bands this time. 

It's that stupid red string that Jungkook had tugged too tightly on.

The one that he'd snapped right in half. 

WATTPAD // AO3 // KO-FI // CARRD

#jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook oneshot

[kiestrokes]

You should have seen this coming

I need to know your thoughts on all on Ateez’s sex styles

ATEEZ and their Sex Styles | NSFW

Pairing: ATEEZ x Reader/You/Yn (vagina pov) Rating: NSFW. Mature (18+) Minors DNI. Genre: headcanon, imagine, smut. Warnings: aftercare mentioned in some portions, cuddling, kissing.

Sexually Explicit Content: sex positions, rough sex, choking, marking, biting, pain kink, stone top, pillow princess, cum/semen, orgasms?

🗝️ Note: oh luce...are you prepared for this? this is quick run through, and I don't have my glasses on- so feel free to kindly point out any spelling or big grammatical errors. this is my own opinion, don't take it too serious.

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted here. 

Park Seonghwa hmmm Hwa, this man likes things deep and slow, lots of kissing and biting going on before he quite literally dives in. He is the opposite of HJ, eye contact is what really gets him off. He wants to watch you fall apart and quickly follows you. Hwa's aftercare is showering together, so that he can ensure you both are clean for post sex snuggles and lego building.

Kim Hongjoong I have never met a scorpio that has the ability to stay in a minimum of two positions, it’s always 2++. HJ is great at foreplay; he's observed your body and gets you so keyed up in foreplay that you almost cum. But when it comes to actual sex, he's all over the place. Gets you is missionary first, but it's too intimate for his aromantic ass, puts your legs around his neck and focuses on your body, then he pulls a leg over so you're halfway into doggystyle and eventually you're on your stomach getting your shit wrecked. I don't think this man can cum if you're making eye contact.

Jeong Yunho hear me out- he looks incredibly unassuming, and Yunho is more of a cuddler than a fucker. But when he does, he performs. You're having at least two orgasms and begging him to cum already. He loves to fuck you in spoon, and gives you double stim on the clit, that has even the quietest person screaming. Arguably the best sex you have ever had and he's v humble about it.

Kang Yeosang this bitch...he manhandles you left and right. up against the wall, picking you up in bed, to um- slow it down and make it bouncy. He isn't much for kissing. But is the king of aftercare and loves to cuddle afterwards. Kind of oblivious to when you orgasm though, he accidentally fucks you into another- or three.

Choi San he is the opposite of Jongho, a stone top. your pleasure means more to him than his own. his favorite position is cowgirl, wants you facing him, admiring all his muscles and sneaking in little kisses. he might also have a mild neck kink, not quite choking but his hand is always there. so sorry but San immediately falls asleep after you fuck (re drunkteez).

Song Mingi ohhh Mingi...leo men don't come to fuck around (well they do. but you'll understand in a minute) similar to Yeo and Yunho he wants you to cum first. he likes to think his favorite position is doggy, but this man falls apart in missionary. it's the eye contact, the kissing, the biting, the hair pulling, how your legs wrap around and pull him in like you just can't get enough. man is gone. he also doesn't like cumming inside you, he wants to cum on your thighs or your stomach or your tits. to show you what you did to him. Mingi's aftercare is lots of food, he needs to eat and he wants you to eat with him, then cuddle up in bed and hold you like a little burrito (re sangi live)

Jung Wooyoung I saved this bitch for last, Woo likes it the roughest...even if I think HJ is the one with the pain kink. Woo wants you to be aggressive passionate with him, wants your hand on his throat, clenching his jaw, nails in his back. is kissing you non-stop, you cannot breathe between the thrusting and him literally stealing the air from your lungs in each kiss. tbh I think Woo prefers to give you oral and maybe receive oral over everything. but those little hips of his know how to work out the most intense orgasms.

Choi Jongho ok...sooo, Jongho and my libra bestie were both born on October 12th. I'm going to use a lot of what I know about her- is secretly incredibly kinky, willing to try anything once. He is a pillow princess, loves skinship but only when he initiates it, prefers to see a lot of his partner's skin. drops a ton of affectionate touches but screams he was just joking when you drag him off to the bedroom. he is the most vocal of all the members, literally singing his praises.

© COPYRIGHT 2023 by kiestrokes All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations.

#ateez #ateez headcanons #ateez imagines #headcanons #ateez smut #ateez imagine #ateez x reader #ot8 #ateez x you #ateez x y/n #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #seonghwa smut #hongjoong smut #yunho smut #yeosang smut #san smut #mingi smut #wooyoung smut #johgho smut #earth to mars #malucefent #imagines

[hysteriaww]

Hi ! It's going to sound weird but....

How do you think Kai would have influenced Luke's personality if Luke actually won during the merge ?

I know Kai was stronger, but let's say Luke wins.

He was already pretty strong since he was able to break Liv out of the spell she was trying to do. He was stronger than his sister. He would have won if they were to do the merge. I don't exactly remember how powerful he was but I suppose he was fairly quite good with magic.

And magical powers aside, he has quite a strong personality. He's fed up with the Mystic Falls gang bullshit. He was not even that scared of Kai. I mean, he knew his brother was a freaking threat, but he did not hesitate to go on his own and do the merge with Kai. Even when Kai didn't want to do it Luke was like "Hey bitch, you scared I could win ?"

I don't think Luke really thought he could win or maybe he did, anyway he just wanted it to end. He wanted to project his sisters.

So, with Kai's personality inside of him, what would he be like ? I think that guy would at least find a way to end that Gemini tradition crap about the merge, and the lives of the whole coven linked to the leader.

Apart from that I don't know.

That would not be as fun as seeing Kai struggle with new emotions 🤣 but I want to see Luke being even more badass you know.

Yup, really long question sorry not sorry. X)

This is a very interesting question! Tho I have wondered what Jo would be like if she merged w Kai & won, I've never wondered about Luke until now... I think it could be a very compelling arc for him & the gemini coven. Here's what I think would happen! (I wrote a whole ass mini-fanfic in my answer lmfao):

Fresh after the merge: Luke would initially act & feel almost exactly like same old Luke, except maybe he'd rightfully be a bit more grim, traumatized and world-weary after defeating Kai. Liv & Jo would be concerned but he'd tell them not to worry bc he just needs some time to recover & leading the coven rn is more important than his mental health anyway (aka the FIRST Red Flag). Liv & Jo would disagree but let it go for now to avoid stressing him out.

First few months as leader: I think Luke's first order of business would be to undo the damage Joshua did as a terrible coven leader. That might mean overturning fucked up coven laws, etc. but Joshua doesn't like this, so he gets his supporters in the coven to back him & veto Luke's changes. Meanwhile, Luke's own coven support is growing bc I do believe he'd be a MUCH better leader than Joshua, so old man's resentment grows more. Eventually, it reaches a point where Luke feels boxed in like he can't make any real GOOD change bc of Joshua's puppets & THAT is when... the whispers of Kai's voice begin to awaken in Luke's mind. Uh-oh...

Conflict resolution 101: The part of Luke that's in control tries to be diplomatic about getting rid of Joshua's supporters but it just. doesn't. work. The assholes are FLUENT in gemini bureaucracy bc they've been around longer so they outmaneuver Luke constantly. That's when Kai begins suggesting some... less diplomatic solutions, including the idea that Joshua's supporters wouldn't be such a problem if JOSHUA was gone. Luke spends a long time rejecting this & literally warring with himself, so Liv & Jo are like "dude are u ok" and in a moment of weakness he admits his idea about taking joshua out. They're shocked, but after a sec, they're like "wait this is the same man who tried to off his own kids more than once. Uk what? yes lets do it." And suddenly all 3 (ahem, 4) Parker kids are plotting to put dad in a magical coma (hmm does that sound familiar? I wonder which sibling's idea this was...) so he can't influence his supporters anymore. And the siblings succeed! Joshua's out! but it becomes their lil secret, hidden from the coven...

A Good Ol' Frame Job: Lo and behold, Joshua's supporters still stay loyal to the man in a coma instead of Luke! Liv & Jo are like "it's fine luke, dad isn't gonna wake up so eventually they'll have no choice but to listen to you" but KAI isn't convinced... and neither is Luke. Diplomacy didn't work, sleeping beauty-ing joshua didn't work, so now he needs to play dirty. He doesn't jump to violence or anything - he simply frames a few of them for crimes they didn't commit. Snakey, but simple. Only problem is... Luke can't recall if this idea was his own, or Kai's...... bc they're both equally likely to have thought of it. Kai's influence is growing... So when Jo & Liv come to him like "wow crazy how those supporters got revealed as criminals right? That worked out conveniently," Luke goes w the safest option & says "haaa yea what a coincidence! no idea how that happened" ......and now he's lying to his sisters (Big Red Flag #2)

Calm before the storm: Now that joshua's remaining supporters (who haven't been framed) are very few, Luke doesn't face much resistance anymore & he actually succeeds at reforming a lot of fucked up gemini practices & making positive change. Maybe he even succeeds at eliminating the merge altogether! Luke's flying high, believing he's a true protector of the geminis & the best leader and savior (which, to be fair, he rly is better than the shitty leaders before him)! Kai's influence here is very sneaky bc some of Luke's old sense of humor comes back to him, with some new hints of cockiness that weren't there before. Luke's golden boy charm & Kai's cockiness creates the perfect politician cocktail & liv and jo appreciate the good he's done for geminis but also lowkey resent the big-headed self-important persona he's growing.

But THEN there's trouble in paradise: joshua's leftover supporters find a piece of evidence that proves Luke framed the others & they threaten Luke w it, deducing that he also had smthg to do w Joshua's coma. They order him to step down but he can't do that. Not now, when he's finally *this* close to changing the coven for good! These pricks will wake joshua & bring the old laws back! No, he can't let that happen, he can't let it- ....Luke snaps. He blacks out, then wakes up in horror to realize he violently killed. them. all. He panics, calling Jo & Liv for help BUT to cover his ass, he lies & says he had to kill them bc they found out about "all 3 of them" cursing Joshua... while choosing not to mention how they also discovered his frame jobs. Liv & Jo are horrified yet they help him cover this up bc he's falsely led them to believe their asses are also on the line for cursing joshua... but then Jo notices some of them were killed in very "Kai" ways (bled to death from their spleens getting cut out, etc.) & Liv finds the piece of evidence they had that links Luke to the frame jobs...... the 2 of them realize Luke is not in control anymore.

The Climax: Liv & Jo confront Luke, asking him to step down but warning him that they'll MAKE him if he doesn't agree. He doesn't agree. A fight ensues & Luke is pretty OP despite the 2 v. 1. Luke gets *this* close to killing them (while Kai cheers him on), but then says SIKE and kills JOSHUA's comatose body instead, shocking everyone. Jo, Liv AND Kai are like "wha- why?!" & Luke the politician diabolically reveals that he can't bring himself to kill them - but he can frame them for Joshua's death & turn the coven against them.... OR he can frame the dead supporters for Joshua's death & save his sisters, IF Liv & Jo stay loyal to his cause. At this ultimatum, Jo & Liv finally give up, saying they'd rather get framed or killed than let him rule the coven like this. The Kai in Luke gets triggered by their abandonment bc he's a gOoD LEADER can't u SEE?! Kai's increased presence & Luke's increased lack of control make his SIPHONING manifest for the first time & he unintentionally starts siphoning the sisters. And Luke gets triggered by them trying to overthrow him bc he's the OnLy one who can PROTECT the coven!! Just like he protected Jo & Liv from Kai!! At this point the sisters' resentment RLY comes out like "WE DIDNT ASK YOU TO!! YOU chose to merge to protect us WITHOUT ASKING what WE wanted!! U literally knocked out Jo when she was ABOUT to merge! You protected us bc that's what U wanted, not US. And now the coven doesn't need to be protected BY you anymore, it needs to be protected FROM you!!" Like a bucket of ice water, Luke realizes he's siphoning his sisters rn. He has become Kai. They're right. He is not in control anymore. He steps away & realizes the whole coven itself is broken. The best way to save it is to take the ruling family nonsense out of it & free everyone. He agrees to step down & Jo & Liv help him break the coven link altogether and they free the coven! For a moment, it seems like Kai is going to stop them, but then even the Kai in his mind realizes the coven fucked him over his whole life & he'd much rather see it gone. So all 4 kids unite in Sibling Solidarity and liberate the coven!

Epilogue: Luke gets therapy & that means Kai begrudgingly gets it too bc he's stuck in luke's head. They both start healing & finding a medium ground of how to share space in luke's head. Kai even uses Luke to apologize to Liv & Jo for his own crimes. I'd like to think he'd even get Luke to go to Bonnie and apologize on his behalf & maybe help her out whenever he can, tho i don't think it would be sexual, bc in canon the merge didn't change kai's sexuality so i doubt it would change luke's. But yea I think bonnie would still at least have a new ally in luke thanks to the Kai in him xD

THE END lol I hope my impromptu mini-fanfic here answered your question ahaahaha thank you for asking!!!

#tvd #kai parker #jo parker #luke parker #liv parker #joshua parker #bonnie bennett #merge #gemini coven #headcanon #fanfiction #fanfic #asks #mine

[kavehnanginto]

encounter

07: yes or yes!

"You are a lost cause in the case of logic and Mathematics," he sighed as you stood there thinking about how disappointed he looks at you. It was a normal sight for you now. "Actually I wanted to discuss about something to you, I was about to talk about this in our next tutor session however in this environment, it is absolutely perfect to talk about."

What?

The moment was disrupted by a single phone call and now you were left all alone. Damn.

"Kaveh, yes I haven't eaten them. Yes they are fully clothed. Mhm they are indeed not being a 'bitch in heat' or whatever you say..."

Angry murmurs can be heard on the other side of the phone and you can only expect that Alhaitham's ears are starting to bleed. But what can you really do when you don't even know what Kaveh is talking about?

They were bickering for a while and you were starting to get sleepy. But holding tight to your subconscious you overheard something.

"Yes we are, what did you say again? Dating? Yeah we are doing that right now mhm..."

I'm fucking screwed...

Books fell out of order when you grabbed his expensive phone, not caring if it breaks atleast your dignity will be saved. Scaramouche is gonna absolutely destroy you and bully you for years because of this.

"Hello... Kaveh. What Alhaitham said was..."

"The truth." He was relieved to see his phone still in one piece when he grabbed it from you. "Now go off and do some chit chat with Faruzan or something."

As he placed the phone on the floor he then went ahead and opened the lights. For an hour now you had to read using scented candles.

"All this time there was light? How did you even have access here?"

"I own this place." He casually mumbled and finally sat on his chair, the very same one he used when we first tutored. "Now where was I?"

"Did you just forget that you told Kaveh we were dating?"

"What's wrong with that?" His eyes were on you and even as you looked at every other thing in the room his eyes stayed frozen.

"Do you even know what date means?"

His eyebrows furrowed by such confidence regarding intelligence and knowledge of spelling for someone who can't even spell tyranosaurose rex.

"I might expect this question from someone like Faruzan or your friend with smoky eyeshadow and a mess of a haircut but not someone as dumb as you. Of course I know what dating means."

You sighed in relief and then thought out loud.

"Wait why the fuck would you say that to your blond chick then?"

"Because we are, atleast they think we are."

And finally you remember the warning and advice that Scaramouche gave you, and how he was indeed correct. Again. You had to use it now or else you're screwed. How can you have a chance eating a piece of ass from those hotties in Liyue when you are dating the loner that nobody likes... and everyone is obsessed with for some reason?

"And just about now that stupid gossip account will update..."

You heard your phone ring the next second.

He wanted to play that game, huh.

"Can you call Kaveh and say what you said was absolutely insane and... bullshit and not true?!"

"Oh just deal with it, I haven't told you why I even said that—"

"Atleast what I'll be saying is true..." you grabbed your phone and was about to type something. "Cal him back again or else..."

"You'll tell them what happened in Mondstadt?"

He again grabbed your phone and gently placed it on the floor, his steps were as calm as ever.

YOU WANTED YOUR SECOND YEAR OF COLLEGE TO BE BETTER THAN THIS. WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED WITH THAT?

"Let's see who will be more likely to suffer between the both of us." He sighed and wanted you to think rationally. "I may have not minded Kaveh's reputation of being my whore, but not you."

He pulled out his book and made you sat down next to him. If you had a knife that moment you don't know who you would rather kill first.

"I need you for something you see."

encounter: prev. masterlist. next.

alhaitham x reader smau

synopsis: after alhaitham accepted to tutor his token dumb classmate, the whole school started rumors and gossip to the unknown reason as to why while you were stuck dealing with him after that embarrassing encounter.

taglist: @annathea-annoona @aixaingela @mimimimiaphwsgi @no3hg3nshin @winterpein @crowbird @aloversoath @liminalimmortal @mochicurls21

note: are you enjoying this or something please i need reassurance

#alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #alhaitham x gender neutral reader #genshin angst #alhaitham x you #alhaitham smau #genshin impact x reader #genshin smau #genshin x gender neutral reader #encounter smau

[simpforchuchu]

Yuken Odajima x reader x platonic!Sachio

a/n: Okay im really in love with High & Low boys xkmekx So here you are ♥️🥳 More H&L requests !!

Sorry for the grammer or spelling mistakes.English is not my main language so...

Thank you and love you 🥰

Warnings: none

It was an ordinary day in Housen. A quiet, sunny and peaceful day...

Sachio, Yuken, and the others were sitting on one of the garden benches and chatting. The schoolyard was peaceful, or so Sachio thought.

A few minutes later, seeing the young girl running through the schoolyard gate, Sachio quickly stood up and the others looked at her in shock.

All of the Housen leaders frowned when they saw the 2 boys running in behind the girl, and they made their way to the door.

Sachio who was standing in the middle of the garden looked seriously at his friend who is running towards him. Seeing her friend she smiled happily and stood right in front of the young leader.

The girl, gasping for breath, raised her head and smiled at her friend.

"Hey, Sachio! What's up? I think I might be in a bit of trouble"

2 boys running after her shouted while Sachio looked at his friend solemnly

"Oi! You little bitch! Come here!"

Y/n looked back and smiled and turned to the boys and waved.

"You were looking for Sachio, right? He's right in front of you! Leave me alone!"

Sachio glared angrily at the boys chasing him at y/n's words. They probably chased after his friend to get to him, which made him even more angry. He took a step forward, got y/n behind him, and walked towards the boys across from him.

"If you have a problem with me, come straight to me. Stay away from my friend or I will kill you!"

The fight was over as soon as the boys attacked Sachio. It all took a few minutes and the Housen members threw the boys on the ground out of the school.

Sachio straightened himself up and walked over to his friend who was watching the fight. Sachio sighed as Y/n waited with a smile on her face.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of trouble y/n? I may not always be there to protect you."

Y/n wiped the smirk off her face and looked seriously at her best friend.

"I know... but this time it's not my fault... really... they blocked my way and asked about you. I might have punched the long haired one too..."

Sachio rolled his eyes as the Housen leaders laughed

"Oh come on! I swear I was just defending myself."

Sachio sighed deeply and smiled

"Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

Y/n quickly nodded and showed her fist.

"Remember? I learned from the best!"

Sachio chuckled and ruffled y/n's hair and smiled

"yeah right"

As Y/n and Sachio made their way to the benches, the blond boy next to them watched, smiling. Yuken had always had an interest in y/n. It was funny and sweet to him that she was constantly getting in trouble but still easily got away with it. He also knew that despite how strong she said she was, she was also quite a delicate and weepy person.

While Y/n was chatting with Kenzo and Shojii, Sachio looked at Yuken, who was watching them with a smile, and nodded with a smile.

"She's such a pain in the ass but I love her"

Yuken smiled as he looked up at his friend next to him.

"She loves you too, it seems like there's nothing she wouldn't do for you"

Sachio smiled and shook his head.

"She's like a second sister to me... I want to protect her but I can't always be there for her. That's why I want her to stay out of trouble but... you know she's a bit crazy"

Yuken laughed and nodded his head.

"That's why I like her"

Sachio smiled and shook his head.

"I think she likes you too, she acts differently around you but you never notice it"

Yuken looked at his friend in surprise.

"What do you mean?"

Sachio shrugged and spoke.

"She's more aggressive, louder, and more annoying when she's with us. But when she's talking to you, her tone is softer, calmer, and ... less annoying"

As Yuken thought about what his friend had said, Sachio smiled and walked over to y/n and the others and joined the conversation.

***

No one knew how the time had passed, but when y/n saw it getting dark, she stood up and clapped her hands together.

"I have to go home now, see you later, I love you guys"

While everyone was smiling and waving, Sachio stood up and turned to y/n

"It's getting late, and I don't want you to go alone after today-"

Y/n grinned and shook her head.

"Ahh, are you worried about me? Cute!"

Sachio rolled his eyes and lightly hit y/n's head, y/n chuckled at that

"Yuken, can you walk with her home?"

Yuken was surprised as he looked at Sachio, y/n was also surprised. Yuken smiled and stood up and nodded his head. Y/n quickly shook her head.

"There's no need, really."

Yuken smiled and said it would be okay. Y/n was happy too but she felt nervous around him.

"Well then, see you y/n. Stay out of trouble!"

Y/n smiled and hugged Sachio. She then waved to the others and they started walking

***

It was a quiet but peaceful walk. Neither of them knew what to talk about, smiling shyly when they looked at each other. Y/n thought the silence was awkward after a while and turned to Yuken.

"Yuken-san, uhm... thank you..."

Yuken laughed and shook his head.

"You are a dear friend to all of us y/n-chan, we can't let anyone hurt you because of us."

Y/n smiled and shook her head. She was about to say something when she realized Yuken had stopped his steps and looked in front of her. There were 2 young guys in front of them and they had baseball bats in their hands.

Yuken quickly took y/n behind him and looked at the boys in front of him. The boys were grinning with the bats in their hands.

"Y/n-chan, please stay behind me and don't do anything stupid."

Y/n nodded her head but remembered that the yuken wouldn't see it.

"Please be careful Yuken-san"

Yuken smiled and moved forward to the boys across from him.

"Who are you ?"

One of the boys grinned and waved the bat in his hand.

"We want to leave a nice message for Housen."

Yuken grinned and shook his head.

"You guys are really stupid aren't you? Attacking me? And when there is a girl with me ? I'm going to kill you!"

When one of the boys swung his bat, Yuken pulled back and swung the attack. He grabbed the bat and kicked the attacker.When the second boy hit Yuken hard with the bat, Yuken cursed and turned around. When the bat hit his arm again, he took the bat from the boy's hand and punched the boy.

While Yuken was taking care of the second boy, he didn't see the other boy approaching y/n. The other boy grabbed y/n and pulled her to him, putting the young girl in front of him. He wrapped his arm around y/n's neck and the young girl called out in fear.

"Yuken!"

Yuken panicked as he let go of the boy he had punched and turned around. How could he not have guessed that? He wasn't their target, it was y/n.

"Don't come close or I'll break her pretty neck."

Yuken glared angrily at the boy in front of him. Y/n looked panicked, but looked fine.

"Y/n-chan..."

The boy's arm tightened even more as Yuken tried to get closer, and y/n squirmed in pain.

"I said don't come close to you! She's coming with me."

Before Yuken could even react, he fell to his knees when someone hit him on the head with a bat.

"Yuken-san!"

Yuken looked at her as Y/n screamed in fear. They could hurt y/n if he stood up, so he had to think.

But at that moment, something unexpected happened. Y/n threw her head back and headbutted the boy behind her, and while the boy was pulling away in pain, she turned and kicked the boy between the legs.

Yuken took this opportunity and quickly got up and beat both boys. And he rushed to the young girl, placing his hands on her cheeks and examining her with concern.

"Y/n-chan! Are you okay?"

Y/n nodded with a smile and grabbed his hands on her cheeks.

"I'm a little dizzy but I'm fine"

At what she said with a grin, Yuken smiled and relaxed.

"I think I might be a little dizzy too."

At what Yuken said with a laugh, y/n looked anxiously at the blood running down his forehead. Yuken smiled to comfort her as her eyes widened in fear.

"I'm fine... really. But let's go home now. More may come."

Y/n quickly nodded and threw Yuken's arm around her shoulder. Yuken smiled at what she did and let her support him.

***

When they got home, y/n helped Yuken slowly sit on the sofa and ran to the bathroom. She came back with a small first aid box in her hand and Yuken, who was sitting quietly on the sofa, smiled.

"Are you sure you're okay, Yuken-san? Do we need to go to the hospital?"

Yuken smiled and shook his head.

"I'm fine y/n-chan... actually there's no need for that."

When Yuken pointed to the box, y/n rolled her eyes and poured some tincture of iodine on the cotton. She gently pressed the cotton ball to the blond boy's forehead and gently cleaned the blood and wound.

Yuken was watching her silently and intently. This focused and worried state of her made him adore her even more.

After bandaging the wound, Y/n looked into the eyes that were staring at her intently. Both of them just stared into each other's eyes. As Y/n's eyes slowly landed on Yuken's lip, Yuken slowly brought his face closer and placed his hand on the young girl's cheek.

There were millimeters between the two of them. Yuken wasn't sure whether to make the first move. If he got it wrong it would have ruined everything, but y/n was braver than him. As the young girl gently pressed her lips to the blonde's, Yuken stroked her cheek with his hand and deepened the kiss.

After an eternity-long kiss, y/n slowly parted her lips and smiled. Likewise, Yuken.

"I love you y/n... if you feel the same way-"

"I do!"

Yuken smiled at y/n's excited voice and stood up slowly. He pulled her into a tight hug and placed a small kiss on her hair.

"I think I'm the luckiest man in this town now."

Y/n chuckled and hugged the body hugging her tighter.

#high and low fic #high&low fic #oya high #high and low #high&low #housen #Sachio #yuken #odajima yuken #yuken odajima #yuken x reader #yuken fic #sachio ueda

[evitamylove]

Cove, MK1 Edition

Announcer comment ideas:

Kung Lao:

-"Yeah, still my favorite."

-"Hi pretty boy."

-"The one....for me~"

-"Calling you a petname would give you too much of an ego boost."

-"Hung Lao."

-"You don't remember." (sad tone)

-"In every reality." (said very softly)

-"I really did miss you."

-"Hi, love."

-"My Chosen One.''

Raiden:

-"Still don't know how to feel about you."

-"Kidd Thunder!"

-"I'm loyal to Kung Lao, I swear." (if hes wearing cosmetics with tattoos.)

-"Okay, I'm warming up to you."

-"I'd let him electrocute me to death." (only in specific cosmetics)

-"You don't remember either."

-"Pikachu, I choose you!"

Liu Kang:

-"Can I be the dragon?"

-"Woof."

-"I miss our Raiden."

-"Where the hell did you put Fujin?"

-"You're cute sometimes."

-"Your fanfiction is the worst."

-"God of Massive Doofuses."

-"Look at this dork."

-"I miss your fuckass bob."

-"Glow up."

-"Daddy."

-"One day..."

-"Bruce Lee."

-"Wa-chaaww!!"

-"The white hair looked better."

-"I can take him, just not in a fight."

Johnny:

-"He's hot as shit."

-"I'd be front row at a concert tryna get his towel."

-"He's hot when he isn't talking."

-"Jean van goddamn."

-"Never change, sweetheart."

-*"Ripleeyyy!"*

-"At least you age well."

Sub-Zero:

-"What a noob."

-"Daddy issues."

-"Why are you so goddamn mean?"

-"Bi-Handsome."

-"Why are your biceps the size of my head?"

-"Wish the mask was a gag."

Scorpion:

-"Hey, hot stuff."

-"Burnin' up~"

-"Is it hot in here or is it just you?"

-"I'd lick the mask."

-"Both at the same time."

-"Get over here! No please, cmere."

Smoke:

-"You are actually the perfect man."

-"Nobody's allowed to be mean to you."

-"Beat the shit out of them."

-"Hi sweetheart~"

-"The actual favorite. Sorry Kung Lao."

-"You did Madame Bo dirty."

-"Nerd."

Kenshi:

-"Love at first sight."

-"I wanna see the rest of the tattoos."

-"How far do your tattoos go down?"

-"Pretty as fuck."

-"Yowza."

-"My type."

-"Yaku-zaddy."

Baraka:

-"Mommy's other favorite!"

-"I'd lick the blood off his teeth."

-"You didn't hear that."

-"Deserved better."

Kitana:

-"I love you."

-"Hot."

-"I would thank her for beating the shit out of me."

Sindel:

-"Mommy? Sorry. Mommy? Sorry."

-"I have such bad mommy issues."

-"How come her evil version gets to play with Raiden and I don't?"

Mileena:

-"Literal perfection in Edenian form."

-"I'm in love with you."

-"Empress Mileena~"

-"Gordon Ramsey."

-"Final Fantasy X."

-"Before I die I'm tryna f-"

Nitara:

-"You look like Megan Fox."

-"Jennifer's body bag."

-"Twilight, gore edition."

-"C-Bat."

-"The Little Vampire."

-"She'd be a terrible babysitter."

-"Hey Selene."

-"The vampire movie jokes are getting old."

-"Dead but pretty."

Reptile:

-"I can only manage unholy comments about you."

-"What that tongue do?"

-"The best glow up by far."

-"Both forms."

-"Lizard form can get it."

-"Syzoth."

Ashrah:

-"Do you need a dog? *actually barks*"

-"Twilight Princess."

-"So jealous of both you and Syzoth."

Sonya Blade:

-"Mommy's back."

-"God I missed you."

-"Beat their ass, Blade."

Sektor:

-"The ketchup and mustard joke is funny."

-"Nuts."

Cyrax:

-"Bolts."

-"I'm into robots too."

-"Bot locs go hard."

Khameleon:

-"Like me!"

-"We could be siblings."

-"I can't flirt with you after saying we'd be siblings."

-"F.A.B." (spelled out, means fuck ass bob)

-"Gender? Never knew her."

Stryker:

-"Really?"

-"*makes pig noises*"

-"Love a man in uniform."

-"No idea who this was initially."

Shao Kahn:

-"Yeah. I could climb it."

-"He can get it."

-"Pretty bitch says what?"

-"My type."

-"Big."

-"Now that's a man that could ride."

-"Yeah.......*yeah"* (said in a very blatantly horny tone)

-"Kotal looked cooler."

-"Horny!"

-"Hey handlebars~"

Shang Tsung:

-"Bundle of sticks!"

-"You're so lucky you're drop dead gorgeous."

-"Redemption arc."

-"The bitch."

-"Toxic by Britney Spears."

-"He's back?"

-"No."

-"Okay maybe-"

-"Asshole says what?"

-"Mortal Kombaaatttt dodododododo-"

Havik:

-"I'm into it."

-"Final Destination."

-"He's the coolest Kombatant."

-"Khaos incarnate."

-"Resident Evil."

Motaro:

-"I'm a Sagittarius!"

-"Oh he's not a centaur?"

-"What are you?"

-"Liu Kang was so right to bring you back."

-"Fuck with the bull, get the horns."

Shujinko:

-"Deadass thought you were Shang Tsung."

-"No seriously are you and Shang Tsung related?"

-"Shu-plinko?"

-"Pachinko."

-"Shu-what? Who are you?"

Geras:

-"Yes!"

-"The literal best."

-"Dad AND daddy vibes."

-"The coolest."

-"Guardian of Time."

-"Timestopper."

Li Mei:

-"I had no clue who you were at first."

-"One and done."

-"Li Mei I take your hand in marriage?"

-"She deserved better."

Tanya:

-"You and Mileena are perfect."

-"Wife material."

-"So happy you're back."

Quan Chi:

-"Another redemption arc?"

-"I still don't forgive you."

-"Quan Chi-huahua."

Ermac:

-"I'm so fucking glad you're back."

-"JERROD?!"

-"We are Legion."

-"We are many, you are one." (said in a mocking tone)

Jax Briggs:

-"Nice."

-"The best."

-"Only you, Jax."

-"Captain~"

Frost:

-"Ooohhh that's chilly!"

-"Titsicles."

-"Ice to see you."

-"Let it go."

Homelander:

-"Why are you here?"

-"Okay, you're kinda cool."

Omniman: (she can't stand him)

-"Omni-boy."

-"God, you're annoying."

-"Invincible, yeah right."

-"D'vorah's cooler."

-"Kal-el."

-"Clark Kent."

-"I bet people make edits of you beating the shit of me cause I like to insult you."

Reiko:

-"Reiko's Island."

-"Who're you again?"

-"Dork."

-"Shao's lapdog."

Cove:

-"Hey that's me!"

-"You coulda just played Shang Tsung or Shujinko."

-"Best choice."

-"I'm hotter than you."

-"You picked THAT outfit?"

-"The coolest bitch here."

-"Candle Cove."

-"No, not Pirate's Cove."

-"Please pick Kung Lao for the Kameo."

-"Changeling."

-"Fae fire fantasy."

-"I can steal your name AND your face."

-"Cooler than Shang Tsung."

-"Big balls!"

-"Bigger tits."

#what i got so far #mortal kombat #cove #cove mk #mk oc #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #evie talk

[acompassionatemonster]

I seriously think I’m speaking to a three year old because there’s no way you can be older than a toddler with how stupid you are. If you are older, please consider going back to school because you’re not gonna get far in life with your lack of common sense and underdeveloped brain. There is no way you can call me illiterate when you literally started your reply with, ‘not you’re mad’ and ended with ‘stay one that Jujutsu Kaisen season two’. And in your first reply you did get your ‘your’ and ‘you’re’ mixed up - you used ‘your’ when it should’ve been ‘you’re so scared’. Now please tell me if that made any sense. Take your head out of your ass and admit how much of an imbecile you are.

Love don’t worry about if I have a job or not, I know I am and will be fine but it’s you that you should be worried about right now. I don’t think you can get a job with your stupidity and illiteracy - no wonder why you read manga, bro just follows the pictures and ignores all the actual writing. Please do yourself and everyone else a favour and log off of Tumblr and every other social and pick up an actual book.

Oh come on now, don’t be a coward and avoid my question. I’ll stop bothering you when you either answer what media you are planning to consume soon or admit that you putting a Gojo spoiler without any spoiler warning and under a Toji tag was idiotic and insensitive (even though you strongly disagree - I’m sorry I didn’t know we had a new Joker over here- not that you have the IQ to be able to pull that off). I’m sorry that I’m the only honest person in your life to say you are insensitive. I bet you don’t even know what that word means given that your literacy and comprehension skills are very limited. So I’ll help you out a bit (because I doubt you can even spell it) and give you a definition, ‘insensitive’ (an adjective) - showing or feeling no concern for other’s feelings. A synonym would be ‘inconsiderate’. You can’t prove me wrong that those words don’t describe you. It was a big spoiler and I know it because you were probably crying over it and in your post you literally say you’re not ‘reading jjk anymore idc’ - therefore, you had no right in spoiling it for others, get that into your thick head and small fish brain.

I’m sorry I didn’t know you were a sheep and posting spoilers without warnings because, ‘literally everyone on here isn’t’. Are you that daft? Just because everyone isn’t, doesn’t mean it’s not wrong. Bro are you saying that if the purge happened and everyone was out wreaking havoc, you’d do the same thing and still say it’s not wrong? Are you a child that doesn’t know right from wrong? Please for the love of God, for your own future and safety, go back to school.

TLDR: stfu and tell me your opinion when you have a present dad x and sorry if this was too much writing for your bozo self to process mwah.

I think I'm speaking to someone who dropped out of school, like literally dropped out of school in the 7th grade. Because if YOU'RE SO SCARED OF SPOILERS WHY ARE YOU ON TUMBLR?? LIKE I FUCKING SAID YOU PEOPLE HAVE SERIOUS ISSUES. IF YOU DONT READ THE NEW CHAPTERS THEN THATS, ON WHO??? ITS ON YOU. and why are you harassing me about my spelling?? Bitch it's fucking Tumblr, I'm not writing a thesis, a research paper or even a fucking essay. If I wanted to write a whole fucking article and then yes I would make sure that my spellings of both 'your' and 'you're were correct. However IM NOT. AND IDGAF. So why tf would I care if I spelt something wrong or mixed a few words up???. You bitches are talentless, jobless, bored and can't fucking read nor write and still live with YOURE parents in their BASEMENT. AND WANNA COME AFTER ME BECAUSE YOU GOT SPOILED. BITCH I DONT CARE IF YOU DIDNT READ THE CHAPTER AND FOUND OUT GOJO IS DEAD!!!!! BECAUSE SOCIAL MEDIA HAS SPOILERS E V E R Y W H E R E. DONT COME ONLINE AND YOU WONT GET SPOLUED THEN YOU FUCKING ASSHAT. YOUR mother must have dropped your special ass on the head as a baby, because why are you at YOUR grown ass age GOING ON DIFFERENT PROFILES TO HARASS ME ABOUT A FICTIONAL FUCKING CHARACTER. I just fucking know you don't take baths OR EVEN WASH THAT FUCKING FILTHY ASS OF YOURS. it's fucking disgusting that YOUR Neanderthal ass came on here to give me a hard time because you what??? Can't keep up with the chapters when it releases??? Not my problem fucktard. And I'll tag my fucking posts with whatever I want. And I did answer your question, I said and I quote I don't care sweetie. So why don't you go to sleep and roll over on that cockroach infested ass floor mattress you sleep on every night. Roll over and go get caught up to the new chapters. Imagine trying to harass someone because YOU live in a section 8 apartment, with 15 other family members, have roaches and rats crawling all over you while you sleep and mad at me. NOBODY GIVES A FUCK ABOUT YOU!!! I'm just sure YOURE a fucking foster child whose mother and father left your Crack baby ass in foster care. Because there's no way that someone who had a loving, family or SUPPORT SYSTEM IS THIS BOTHERED. AND IF YOU'RE SO FUCKING BRAVE WHY WERE YOU POSTING ANONYMOUSLY??? GET A LIFE YOU SMALL BRAINED, LONELY, PATHETIC, NEANDERTHAL ASS BITCH. I HOPE YOU TOSS AND TURN ON THAT FLOOR MATTRESS YOU SHARE WITH YOU 8 SIBLINGS EVERY NIGHT.

and stop coming on my page, mad ass., stupid ass, MONKEY ASS BITCH.

[snwusberry]

untitled #2

pairing: sunwoo x oc female

warning(s): language *question mark* (definitely language), mention of gaslighting but it doesn't actually happen this is supposed to be a light hearted experience.

word count: idk, i never include a word count... maybe i should actually.

loooong note, buckle up: i wanted to make this one long slow burn sort of thing but i have quite a short attention span and i never edit my shit until like months later amd editing a whole ass 30k word post of shit writing seems like a task that will never get done so i broke it into parts and i might even end up deleting it because i always second guess my work

[ part 1 ] | [ part 3 ]

| zoe's pov |

OKAY REWIND A LITTLE BIT.

this can't be.

i'm shitting, pissing, crying and throwing up right now. this literally cannot be.

"what does it say?" sunwoo asks from the bathroom.

"a couple more minutes!" i shout back a reply.

"you said it takes 5 minutes, how much longer?"

"this one's built different, wait q little longer."

there's no waiting needed. it says what it says and i'm shit scared you have no idea.

i'm being disowned for real.

i gather up my thoughts and let out a breath. let's do this.

i walk out with the stick in my trembling hand where sunwoo is sitting restlessly.

bitch i'm sweating like a sinner in a church, i cannot do this.

"so? what is it?" he eagerly asks. is it too late to try to lie? he's a man, he'll understand that lies must be told to protect yourself.

"oh you know." he eyes me skeptically, reaching for the test but i move my hand away from his reach.

"zoe, i'm being serious." oh trust me i am too.

"i am too. how about i tell you-" i don't even get to get the whole sentence in before he snatches it away from me. well that's rude.

i pay close attention to his features as he reads what's on the test and let me tell you his face twisted into the most unreadable expressions i've seen.

i stand there awkwardly twiddling my thumbs and crossing my toes waiting for him to say something. the tension in the air is so think, you'd nerd a chainsaw to cut it.

"so you're pregnant." he asks but it sounds more like a statement to me.

"i mean, that's what's on the test, no?" i comment in a poor attempt to make the situation less tense, but like i said, chainsaw.

"so now what?"

"i don't know. i mean, on the bright side, these tests can be incorrect." maybe if i gaslight myself enough to believe that, it will actually be the case.

"there's a bright side?" he raises an eyebrow at my comment. what is he not buying it? because i am.

but real talk i'm confident this one is wrong. "there's always a bright side."

there's never a bright side.

sunwoo looks wide eyed at the paper while i stand in front of him biting the inside of my cheek.

"soooo uhhh-"

"we're going to be parents." he states with his hands on his head.

i mean, same bestie. i barely know him yet here we are.

"it's okay, we can work this all out." he says but more to himself than to me but then it dawns on me hitting me in the face like a brick.

"sunwoo..." i trail off and he turns to look at me. "your job."

"shit."

end of the chapter rants: i'm having a pretty bad day ngl. like actually. whoever shitted in my porridge, fuck you, i'm not having a good time right now.

ignore my spelling errors if there are any i'm illiterate

#kim sunwoo #sunwoo #sunwoo scenarios #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo fluff #kim sunwoo imagines

[kazuhasbunny]

— sudden heat

pairings : xiao x catgirl ! reader

warnings : mating cycles (not a/b/o) , rough sex , spanking , hair-pulling , biting , degradation , thigh riding , breeding , overstimulation , master/pet ,

this .. turned out longer than i expected .. was supposed to be a short drabble but i kinda loled and just decided for another full fic . again , sorry for any grammatical or spelling mistakes as it's not proofread ! btw , this was originally from my dream i just added some touch ups here and there so xiao's probably a bit ooc in here too so forgive me for that ; anyways hope y'all enjoy it ^^

— undercut nsfw !

"xiaoooo~" you mewled and stretched against his lap, eyes shining looking up to his flustered face . he looked down , an eyebrow raised . you weren't usually like this , something's definetly up "xiaoo~ want youuu.. need you pleasee?~" your hands grabbed his cheeks , squishing them against your palms . no , why now ? are you in heat ? can't be . it's not even "that" month yet . maybe you were just being clingy .

"[name] , i don't like this . can't we deal with this some other day"

xiao growled . he is not gonna have any of this today , especially since he went through a rough encounter today "b-but xiao .. i can't take it anymore- nothing can satisfy me ! please xiao i-i'll do anything ! master xiaooo" you nuzzled up against his neck and purred loudly , your hips against his thigh slowly grinding on it earning a whimper from you .

one of xiao's hand patted your head , scratching the back of your ears which made you purred even louder , hands clenching on his shirt . a rough shove against your hip made you mewled out loud as you grind against him

"if you want it so bad , might as well try to earn it yourself . you're acting like a bitch in heat grinding on my thigh . come on , don't stop now"

xiao came down to bite hard on your shoulder , surely leaving a new mark making you moan out loud from the pain as you grind yourself harder against him , trying to reach your high . it was humiliating to see yourself like this but you can't help yourself , it felt so good to you yet you wanted more "x-xiao i'm gonna- i'm g-gonna cum xi-xiao ahn !~" you nuzzled your head against his neck as he whispered in your ears , his voice dipped down with a dark tone

"then cum."

with that you came hard against him , drenching his pants with your juices . you whimpered as he kept going on , grinding his leg against you overstimulating you

"tch . look at the mess you made . something tells me that my little kitten needs a bit of discipline hm ? don't you think so , pet ?" he roughly tugs on your hair, making you look at him in the eyes as he growled , eyes locked with eachother demanding an answer from you

"n-noo.. i don't .. maybe .. i'm sorry xia- master . i'm s-sorry i didn't mean to..." you know that getting called pet was the last straw for him . you sent him off the edge and pissed him off . you pissed your master off and now you're whimpering beneath him as he roughly throws you onto the bed , ass up as he spanks you hard . your cheeks were beet red as he keeps on smacking your cheeks , each time getting faster with pace and harder . your sobs and whimpers filling up the room as you hid your face in the pillow but xiao was having none of this as he tugs your hair back making , turning your head to look at him in the eyes

"don't you fucking dare hide that pretty little face of yours from me "

xiao growls as he continued smacking you again . this lasted for minutes until he's sure to make you learn your lesson (as if you ever did) xiao smirked as he softly runs his palms against your redden cheeks , making you flinch away from his touch

"i'm sure if a kitten is recieving their punishment , they aren't supposed to enjoy it . but i guess you never learn from your mistakes huh ? you're just a needy little bitch in heat who can only think of getting filled up" he took his cock out of his pants , lining up against your entrance as he slowly filled you up with his length as you smiled and mewled out loud , finally getting filled up as how you wanted too

his cock slides in swiftly thanks to your wetness . once he's all fully sheathed , xiao instantly thrusts into her roughly at a fast pace . you weren't expecting him to be this rough but you weren't complaining . he goes on hard and fast in you , making you grip onto the bedsheets hard till your knuckles turn white , moaning out his name telling him how good it felt and thanking him for this . he growls as he bits your shoulder , drawing blood again , lapping it all up as he buries his face against your neck sucking and leaving other marks

"you're enjoying this , aren't you ? needy whore"

a rough thrust inside of you made you see stars as you came the 2nd time . suddenly it's all coming to your senses that you can't take it anymore . you squirmed underneath him, trying to get off his cock as he growled and grabbed your hips hard and grinds against you harder making you whimper from the overstimulation "xiaoo no more ! p-please it's too much i-i don't think so i can any-anymore please m-master !"

he lets out a loud tsk and smacks your ass again hard , making you clench on him tightly as you sob into the pillow . the overwhelming sensation washing through you

"gonna cum . little kitty wanna get bred , hm ? you want my cum ? you want me to breed you ? want me to paint your walls white with my semen ? tell me" dirty words came out from his mouth making you whimper , you just want all of this to be over by now . the overstimulation was too much . he stilled himself inside of you waiting for an answer

"yes.. y-yes master xiao i wan..t .. want cum n-need it in me please!~ b-breed me fill me up .. want all o-of you~" you mewled out , hoping that it'll satisfy xiao enough as he returns back to thrusting inside of you at a fast and inhumane pace , his hips shaking against you as he tries to reach his high , his chest against your back as he hugged your form biting onto your neck

"i'm gonna fill you up.. fill you up so good with my cum and you're gonna take it all up in your cunt .. my sweet, sweet little kitten- gonna fill h-her up"

the stutters coming out from him was so cute you thought , it's always like that whenever he's near . few hard thrusts got you against the edge again as you came for the 3rd tims , cunt clenched around him hard as he came in you biting your shoulder as he growls . he came alot , his cock still inside of you slowly grinding , some of his cum starting to leak out .

once he came down from his high , he slipped his cock out from you , making you whimper from the loss feeling of being stuffed up . xiao stood up , looking at how worn out you were . your hair's a mess , your cheeks all beaten up , marks were all around your body it made him embarrased "come on , let's get you cleaned up- [name] ?" oh . you were fast asleep . was he really rough on you ? he gotta make it up to you once you're awake . xiao sighed as he covered you and himself up with a blanket , slowly drifting into slumber along with you

"love you .. my sweet little kitten"

#eli.posts #eli.sins #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin smut #xiao x reader #sub!reader

[mid-weast]

Will you keep it down? | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: You and Jungkook attend the same university and have been neighbors for 3 months now. It drives you crazy that he plays loud music at 2AM, and it drives him crazy that you barely acknowledge his presence.

Pairing: Jungkook x Female!Reader; Black!Reader

Words: 2.6K

Genre: enemies to lovers, student!jungkook, student!reader, fluff, mention of smut, angst? (in the form of bickering back and forth).

Authors note: Hi hi! This is the first fic I’ve ever written so if it’s bad I’m sorry. Also it is unedited so if there's grammar / spelling mistakes I'm sorry again! Also this is catered toward the reader being Black but I hope it can be enjoyed by everyone. Thank you for reading! Feedback is appreciated ok love u bye!

“Y/N? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??!? Open this door RIGHT NOW!”

Even though you were studying in your room, his knocks were so loud you nearly jumped out of your skin. You had expected a reaction, but not a full-on explosion.

You and Jungkook have been apartment neighbors for about three months now, and a constant problem is that he blares his music hella loud late at night. Of course he’s a music major so he listens to music a lot, but at this point you don’t care. It doesn’t even seem like he’s working on composition homework anyway, just being an asshole with no regard for his neighbors peace. Now don’t get yourself wrong, you're not just some uptight bitch who complains about everything. Well, you do have several pet peeves but over the years of going to school in Korea you’ve picked and chosen your battles very wisely. In most cases you let things slide. You wouldn’t care at all about someone playing the music loudly, but it is 2 AM, and while you’re up studying you know a lot of your other neighbors are trying to sleep.

You tiptoe toward your front door and twist the knob slowly. You only open the door wide enough to be able to see his face. It’s not that you’re scared that you’re in danger or anything, and you rarely back down from people giving you a hard time. But you were tired, wearing a big ass t- shirt and short shorts (your regular sleep attire), and it was late at night. So if anything was going to pop off you felt pretty vulnerable. Even though you’re the same age, he towers over you and you find his size kinda intimidating.

As usual, you have to crane your neck to see his face, and your view of him is limited by the narrowness in which

you opened the door.

“Can I help you, lil boy?”

From what you can see of him, right away you can tell that he is pissed. Dawning his usual attire of a black sweatshirt with the hood up, black sweats, and stomp a hoe boots, he stood extremely close to your apartment door with his arms crossed. His usually wide, puppy dog eyes are now pressed in narrow slits. His normally pouty lips are formed in a hard line, and his jaw is so clenched you could carve an ice sculpture with his jawline.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You called the cops on me? Are you INSANE???" Jungkook shouts.

Obviously he's mad, and despite the amount of times you've gone back and forth he's never raised your voice at you. The old you would have screamed back at him, but over time you've tried to respond to anger with calmness. Also, you were a little scared because this mf is kind of big.

"I already told you if you keep blaring your music at 2AM, I was going to do something about it!" You respond in a hushed whisper, slightly concerned that your elderly neighbors will be even more disturbed by the noise. "I've told you this a million times, and you barely do anything about it. If anything, it's gotten worse like you're doing it on purpose. People are trying to sleep and I'm trying to study, why is this so hard for you to understand?"

He sucks his teeth. "You're such a little snitch. And I've already told YOU that YOU can't tell me what to do."

"I know I can't...but they can," you nod toward the exit, referring to the police officers that most likely just left out that way with a tiny smirk growing on your face.

If it was possible, he clenched his jaw even harder and you think that he's going to pop a blood vessel. He pushes his way into your apartment, which sends you stumbling back and you grab the door handle to regain your balance. This causes you to close the door shut.

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're-"

He steps right up to you and leans down into your face.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, seriously??? Why are you such an annoying little brat? Just because you're a nerd with no friends who gets no play doesn't mean you can take your bitterness out on me.”

You have to laugh in his face at this point because hello??? First of all, who is he talking to? Second of all, you have told him a BUNCH of times to turn his music down late at night. You didn't think that was too much to ask. As far as you were concerned, being aware of your noise level when you live in an apartment is the universal bare minimum for being a human being.

"ME? Who do you think YOU are? Actually let me tell you. You're an entitled little rich boy who thinks he runs the world. I don't give a fuck about how popular you are on campus, how many people fall at your feet to be around you, and how many hoes you have, you cant talk to ME like that. And how are you going to try and tell me about myself when it's too much of a task for you to be a decent neighbor? I've never done anything to blatantly bother you, so why can you just.." You started to panic because usually when you raise your voice out of anger, your voice cracks and tears threaten to pool out of your eyes, but you tried to get a grip and not back down..."why can you just be nice to me so we can live in peace? Is that too hard for you???"

He looked kind of taken aback by your question. Being nice to you? It never crossed his mind. Also, you kind of had a point. When the semester started and you both moved in on the same day, you would shoot him a small, friendly smile in passing but you never seemed interested in getting to know him. He always wondered why that was. It's not that he had a problem talking with girls, since all he had to do was breathe and girls would come flocking around him, but you would flat out ignore him. Even at all the major parties at the beginning of the year and on Thursday nights when students take over the clubs in the city, you'd barely even acknowledge him. He KNEW that you had seen him too, since you would make eye contact, but you acted like he was just another guy at the club.

And he'd be lying if he said you weren't fine. You had thick thighs, a beautiful face, nice curves, and always wore outfits that hugged you in the right places. He always wondered what it would feel like to wrap his arms around your body and press it against his own. He would constantly sneak peaks of you throughout the night at the club, but something stirred in him when he saw that you were chatting up other guys. Was he...jealous? Jealous that you were so eager to pay attention to these dudes who, in his opinion, were decent looking but they were nowhere near his level, and you never even gave him a second thought? One night he even saw you leaving with a man he knew through mutual friends, and he had to physically stop himself from breaking the glass he was holding, because that guy, while objectively handsome, was nothing compared to him. Jungkook wasn't blatantly cocky, but he let his talent, charm, and looks speak for themselves. He was THEE Jeon Jungkook, and nothing ever really bothered him....except you.

Was he....interested in you? Nah, that can't be it. You were some random chick who happened to be his neighbor, who also is one of the only girls he's met that doesn't give two fucks about even having small talk with him, and that infuriated him for some reason. So the first time you came knocking on his door in an adorable pink satin pajama set with a matching bonnet complaining about his loud music, he knew the game he had to play.

He's still standing over you, centimeters away from you face, but you notice that his eyes soften a little and so does his jaw. He unclenches the fists he was holding crossed against his chest

You continue, “I don't care what you do, and I'm DEFINITELY trying to run your messy ass life. Believe me," you scoff, "you don't have enough money to pay me to do that. But when your dickhole behavior fucks with MY life is when it's a problem. And it's BEEN a problem."

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever, little girl, maybe I should call you little mouse now, since now I know that you'll go squeaking to the cops now, don't fuck with me or my music again.”

Without moving your head you look him up and down with a confused expression. "Am I supposed to be scared of you? No seriously, you look like you cry during Disney movies while wearing footie pajamas, and now here you are throwing a fit because I forced you to stop bothering the entire wing with your music?"

Girl...what are you saying??? This man just barged into YOUR place, is in your face, and is strong enough to pick you up and throw you, and you’re insulting him? But you figured if he's going to be rude, you'll throw it right back because you're tired of his bullshit.

Whatever softness he was feeling for a fleeting moment immediately left, and annoyance once again washed over. He straightens up a bit and puts on that annoying confident smirk he wears when he thinks he's won arguments between you two.

"You should be nicer to me, all it will take is for me to tweet one thing about you, and you'll be the most hated person on campus."

At this point, any suspicions that you had about him annoying you on purpose were confirmed. You've concluded that this mf is a bully and you, small and shy but not one to take mess, will put him in his place to-motherfucking-night.

You take a step toward him, now crossing your arms tightly against your chest, but he doesn't even move a hair backwards.

"Clearly you need a rude awakening so here it is. I don't know what type of people you've dealt with all your life, always saying yes to you, letting you boss them around and taking whatever bullshit you dish out, but let me tell you I am not the one. Never have been and never will be. Unlike the other fools around here who cream their pants at the mention of your name, I don't care about who you are. You'll respect ME and MY peace as long as we're neighbors, you get me?"

Now y/n, you have never so boldly stood up to someone, where did that come from, babes? You've tried to not let this entitled little boy get to you this whole time, but with him standing in front of you in the middle of your apartment with that extremely annoying, yet handsome, smirk on his face, and after all the crap he's said tonight, he had you all the way fucked up.

After you said that, he just laughed and looked away. Now you’re standing there fuming and confused...was there a joke you missed? You were being dead serious!

"Something funny?" you ask, narrowing your eyes.

"Nothing, just thinking about how I want to face fuck that annoying little mouth of yours so you finally shut up.”

Your jaw almost dropped to the floor. You've never had a guy say something so blatantly rude and vulgar literally inches away from your face. But again, you weren't going to back down.

"Oh really?" Scoffing and tilting your head to the side a bit while narrowing your eyes even more, "I'd very much like to do the same. Maybe then you'll learn your place."

"Oh please, princess, you probably blanch when someone around you even mentions the word sex." He chuckles and leans down close toward your face again and cocks his head to the side, scrunching his nose and in a pouty voice said, "you're fooling no one, but keep trying, maybe you'll get there.”

You're even more annoyed than you were before, if that was even possible. But if he wanted to play this game, you might as well go there with him. It's true, you were a bit more prudent than more, but it pissed you off that he could tell. Regardless, you do know some things to say that could have him leaving with his tail between his legs.

You pouted your lips and in a babying tone said, “Aww sweetheart you have no idea. You think you're big and bad but like I said, you probably cry watching Disney movies. The same way you'd be crying, begging me to let you cum down my throat as I mercilessly toy with your cock for hours.”

Now it's his turn to go pale. Y/n, his stuck up neighbor who has barely even spared him five seconds of her time just threatened to edge him into submission? He has to pinch himself because he must be dreaming....

“Well I-“

“But I don't even think we’d make it that far, hun” you continue, “because in order to humble your egotistical, disrespectful ass, I'm gonna have to ride your face until you suffocate. And when the paramedics come and I have to explain how you died, I won't even hesitate to tell them that you were a punk ass loser who LITERALLY drowned in my pussy!”

You don’t know who this person speaking is, but it is not you. All of the pent up hostility you’ve held towards him just flooded out of you and you couldn’t stop the words from coming out. To be honest you shocked yourself, but you still stood there with your arms crossed and your face unfaltering, just waiting for him to say something smart back.

He stared at you silently, eyes wider than you’ve seen before and his mouth hung slightly open. He wasn’t expecting you to respond with so much fire, but now he wouldn’t be able to sleep until the image you painted came true. His brain said fuck it, and his lips crashed down onto yours. The kiss is sloppy but passionate, and you swore you heard him quietly whimper.

When he feels you starting to kiss back, he smirks into the kiss. Your lips are moving against each other in tandem, and all thoughts about how much you despise the prick fades away. As you uncrossed your arms and placed them on his chest, you could feel his heart beating wildly. Was he as nervous as you were this whole time? You wonder. You knew he was a player, so he was experienced. But the thought that you made him nervous gave you a tiny confidence boost. His hands slowly slide up the sides of your body to sneak behind your back, to pull you further into his chest. As much as your brain was telling you to resist him and push him away, you couldn't help but fall victim to how soft his lips felt against yours. Suddenly you feel airborne as he swiftly reaches down behind your thighs and picks you up. You instinctively gasp but he doesn’t miss a beat, simply biting your lower lip and locking your lips together again.

“Maybe we should test that scenario of yours, and if it comes true, that wouldn’t be the worst way for me to go” he says, doing that annoying but soul-crushingly handsome smirk he likes to wear as he carries you off to your bedroom.

#BTS jungkook #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts jk #bts jeon jungkook #bts jungkook smut #bts x black reader #bts x black girl #bts x black woman #bts x poc reader #black girl kpop #poc kpop scenarios #bts #bts reactions #bts imagines #bangtan boys #jin #namjoon #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #yoongi #bts jungkook scenario #bangtan #kpop smut #kpop scenarios

[getting-a-life]

Gabriel Reyes x F reader

Sample

Note: This is a little something i had on what pad when I was younger and it got a lot of attention so I’m gonna try my hardest to do something similar to it since I can’t really remember what I wrote. I haven't proofed it yet so don't mind the bad grammar and spelling.😅

Warning: domestic abuse, child abuse, and trauma. You have been warned.

Summary: 

Y/N once was an Overwatch agent, but now is stuck dealing with the bad decisions she had made all those years ago. That doesn't mean she can't change her mind and live the life she wanted. Let's just hope that he hasn't forgotten the sweet moments they shared.

“Where the fuck are you, you little bitch?!”

You’re hiding behind one of many doors in your home. You can hear you're boyfriend throwing things in a drunken rage in the living room. Last week he found you in the attic with your twins. Except that time he had gotten into a fight at the nearby bar. This time he asked you for dinner but you were in the middle of changing your baby's diaper. Now he thinks you were ignoring him.

You try your hardest to keep your babies warm and asleep so that they won't give away your hiding spot. It would have been hard to do so if they weren't already used to their father doing this almost every night. You found yourself thinking of how it was when you first met him. If you could go back you would have left while you had the chance. You would have still been back at the overwatch base, happy and full of joy helping people all around the world. You missed working with everyone there, Especially Gabriel Reyes. What would have happened if you didn't turn him down?

You snap back to reality when you hear his footsteps get dangerously close to the closet door and pass to go into the next room. You quietly turn to gently place your baby's into the corner of the closet and hide them with the closest boxes and shoes. All while trying to make it not look too obvious.

“Do I need to call my buddies to help me find you again?!” He shouts. You turn to make sure the babies are still asleep and you let out a silent sigh of relief when you see that they are just fine.

You flinch when you hear a loud bang that shakes the floor and walls of the house. You can hear him slam the door of the room he was just in. He walks down the hall and past the closet to go into the baby's room. He throws things and slams doors. You can hear the wood from the cribs your dad built for the twins being snapped and chucked across the room. Tears run down your face as you hold your cries in and hope you can fix it later.

“You bitch!!! Do you have any idea how much I sacrificed for you and those sorry-ass kids?!” he yelled as he punched more holes into the walls. “Just wait till I find you!” he slings open the closet door in the baby's room and lets out aloud scream.

There's only one door he hasn't opened. You turn to move the things you put in front of the babies and held both of them as firm and Close as you could in your arms then slammed open the door. You bolted past the baby‘s room on your right and straight to the front door. You can feel him behind you ready to beat the shit out of you. Your hand was so close to the doorknob but he grabbed the hair on the back of your head and pulled.

Ding dong~

He pulled you back into him with his chest to your back. “Say one word and I'll beat you till Dawn.” he whispered into your ear. He pulled your hair so that you would be on his left and let go. He opened the door and two figures stood in the doorway. Because of how dark it was and the fact that your dimwit boyfriend broke the porch light. You couldn't see their faces but you knew their uniforms.

<3

Thank you for reading my sample. Let me know how you liked it and I'll finish it by tonight. 😉

#gabriel reyes x reader #reaper x reader #overwatch #overwatch x reader #x reader

[impala1967dwinchester]

Sam Winchester: Thoughts

*Credit to the gif owner* 

Pairing: Sam W. x reader 

Pov: Sam 

Warnings: Fluff, Sam can hear the readers thoughts, Sam falling in love with the reader, Dean is here to help the plot

Summary: Sam gets cursed after the Dean, Y/n, and Sam hunt a witch. The next morning when he wakes up all he can hear is Y/n thoughts, and he’s slowly start to fall in love with her. 

A/N: Using @firefly-graphics Sam Winchester divider for this fic. This fic is sorta based on "What women want" with Mel Gibson. A good ol' Romantic Comedy.

Word Count: 2.3k

Main Masterlist Sams Masterlist 

Taglist: @sweetdetectivequeen​

A witch hunt couldn't possibly go wrong, right? Especially with the Winchester boys.

"Look lady, sit down before I shoot," Dean shouted, causing Y/n to flinch. Just enough of a flinch that I would be having a conversation with Dean later about no yelling so much.

The witch sat down, but what nobody noticed she was casting a spell under her breath. Dean, Y/n, and I had huddled together trying to figure out what we were going to ask this damn witch.

My back facing the witch. Dean looking over my shoulder looking angrily at the lady. Y/n had her game face on. She sometimes followed us around like lost puppies, but damn was she a fucking awesome hunter.

Sometimes better than Dean and I put together.

When I say that she followed us around like lost puppies I mean she never said what she thought. Dean or I would come up with a plan and she never put input in. Just kinda did what she was told. Reminds me of a younger version of Dean and myself.

Working our asses off for John, all for it to be for nothing. A good little soldier and that was all we were to him.

In the end, Dean just ended up letting the witch go since she hadn't any information. We all pilled back into the impala for the drive back to the bunker.

Y/n fell asleep in the back seat curled into a ball and looking rather peaceful. "Y'know I was thinking lover boy that maybe she could stay permanently with us," Dean said referring to Y/n in the backseat.

I just rolled my eyes before turning to look out the window. The drive was shortened by the fact that at one point my eyes were open and scanning the passing environment.

And the next minute I was dreaming a nice dream. I had a family a beautiful wife standing on our front patio, and watching our daughter and I play with our puppy.

It was nice, it was peaceful. But when I was looking around my dream, I noticed that every face was blank. Well, there goes the normal dream.

The shaking of my body woke me up. "Yo, wake up. Get your shit and go the bed." Dean said, pushing me closer to the passenger side door.

Stumbling out, I walked groggily to the back of the impala and grabbed my bags. Slinging them over my shoulder, I saw Dean try to pull Y/n from the back.

"Sweetheart, we made it home." Dean whispering. His hands falling underneath her knees, carefully picking her up out of the impala. "Open the door would Ya, instead of just standing and staring," Dean said still whispering.

I ran over to the door opening it. "Dude get some sleep, I'll get Y/n settled in, kay," Dean said passing me. Shrugging my shoulders and yawning as I walked to my room.

Stripping down to my boxers I collapsed into bed, loving the coolness of my sheets. Within minutes of my head hitting the pillow, I was out like a light.

Dreaming wasn't something that always happened for me, not since I first started hunting with Dean. But those weren't dreams those were more like nightmares, of people that I couldn't save.

I fell back into the same dream as before, still no faces. But the woman I assumed was my wife as a familiar voice, our daughter was what seemed like she was tops five or six.

Cute little thing, long brown hair like my own, wearing a cute sundress that was blue with green flowers printed on it. ' Dear, are you guys ready for dinner?' the woman asked me. I tried to not stare at the fact that she had no face, so I just hummed. Picking up our daughter.

'Tank you for playing with me daddy!' my daughter said to me bringing her small hands and arms and hugging me around my neck. Besides having no faces everything else seemed normal, my wife's voice seemed all too familiar and it was honestly getting at me. Before I was able to ask her something I was pulled from my dreams.

Waking up was a bitch. My neck was sore, and so were my shoulders. Deciding that today I wouldn't take that mile run, I opted for staying in bed just a bit longer this morning.

Finally getting up when I smelled coffee being made in the kitchen. Grabbing a pair of sweats that were laying around, I slipped my slippers on and went to go get some coffee.

The first thing I saw when I walked in was Dean dancing along to his horrible 70s and 80s rock. Flipping pancakes and sizzling bacon. 'God, why'd he choose no shirt this morning' "Huh? Did you say something Y/n?" I asked her, looking at her for the first time since last night.

She had her hair up in a messy bun, wearing a flannel of Dean, and a baggy pair of shorts. "No, I didn't say anything, Sam," Y/n said pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, continuing reading her book.

Okay Sam you have to admit that was odd and kinda creepy. Not that I mind being complimented, but still weird. "You gonna get your cup of coffee or just stand there looking like an idiot!" I heard Dean crack.

"No," I answered back grabbing a coffee cup that was next to the machine. 'Jeez Dean way to be an asshole towards Sam.' There it was again Y/n voice.

Turning around rather quickly which only hurt my neck even more. "Did you just say that?" I asked panic starting to overtake my body and instincts. y/n looked over at Dean, causing Dean to look over at me.

"Dude what are you going on about?" He asked me... eyes big I just waved his question off, "Never mind I think I must have hit my head last night." I said just wanting my morning coffee more than anything.

The rest of the morning went by fine. No hearing Y/n voice, but then again, she wasn't around for the rest of the morning. "I'm heading out to the shops; I need a new pair of jeans. If either one of you wanna head out with me that's fine too. If not that's okay too guys." Y/n said mostly talking and looking at me.

'Please come out with me Sammy' I heard. Ignore it, rolling my eyes before speaking again. "No, it's okay. Dean?" I spoke. "Nah, I'm fine dear. But thanks." Dean said using his signature wink.

As Y/n walked away I heard her voice again, 'Jesus Dean, stop with the nicknames, and the winking. Obviously, it's not working.' That was the last I heard the sentence.

Dean wants to be with Y/n. I don't, I can't see that going very well, Dean sees Y/n more as a sister than anything else. What does that mean it's not working?

Hours later Y/n came into the bunker carrying a few bags. "I thought you only needed a pair of jeans, Y/n?" Dean snarked. "I did, but you guys were running out of some things, so I grabbed some other shit." Y/n countered.

Well, I can't deny that Dean and Y/n do have a certain chemistry, one that she and I just don't have. "what did you get?" I asked moving the conversation along. "I umm... I got you guys some t-shirts, some more socks, and just something fun for both of you." She said shyly.

"That's great, thank you. Did you have an okay time?" I asked, 'No, Sam I didn't that's why I wanted you to go with me. So many gross old men hit on me.' I heard Y/n's face was only scrunched up for a few seconds.

"Yeah, I had a perfectly fine time. Really did enjoy the alone time." Y/n said winking at us. Dean just rolled his eyes and jumped up to go through the bags, but Y/n swatted his hands away.

Digging into the bag she pulled out pie for Dean and he took off with it like he was a squirrel. Y/n looked back over to me and then started to look through the other bags. "Here Sam. I didn't know if you already had this book, but I thought why not." She said, shrugging her shoulder in a cute sort of way.

"Here for a gift return, a Winchester hug, yeah?" I said laughing a little bit. "I don't see why not, I heard that they're hard to come by," Y/n said back rounding the table in an effort to get on a very one-sided hug.

I hadn't realized until recently how much shorter Y/n was compared to me. I could fully rest my chin on her head. 'God I could use this more often' I squeezed her in my arms. 'God, he smells so great' I heard again, she nuzzled her face into my chest. 'He gives much better hugs than Dean.' I heard.

Y/n was the one to let go of the hug, not me. I was starting to realize that it was in fact Y/n I was hearing just not the words coming out of her mouth, it was her thoughts.

That night I convinced Dean that I could make dinner. For the time I was at college and dating Jessica I had learned some good enough cooking skills. "Fine whatever you do just don't ruin my pans and pots!" Dean screamed from his bedroom as I walked away.

That night I cooked a shrimp alfredo, and chicken alfredo with noodles. Something simple but it was mostly all the food that we had left in the bunker kitchen.

"Dinners ready you two!" I hollered from the library, Dean running from the garage, and on the other side of me was Y/n walking down the hallway. 'Look at him, damn chiefs' apron' I looked down and saw that the apron said "kiss the cook" Damn Dean.

'I'd definitely kiss that cook.' I heard as she walked past me. I just followed her with my gaze, mouth slightly open. Hoping that it wouldn't fall straight to the floor.

"Well dig in. It won't kill you, Dean." Y/n said. Dean just put his hands up in defense it's not like he had said anything but we all know he was thinking it instead.

Dinner went by quickly, few words from any of us, and not many thoughts passing through Y/n's mind. Besides 'Damn, he's got skills, 'So much better than Dean would ever do' I snorted when I heard that thought. Dean looked over at me, "What's so funny Samuel?" He spoke.

I rolled my eyes, "It's Sam, Samuel sounds like an old fashion name" I said. "Nothing is wrong Dean." I finished. 'If nobody thought you guys were brothers, they should spend at least a few hours with you.' I heard.

"Can we not fight at the dinner table, please Dean," I asked. I was trying to lean into what Y/n was saying, or more thinking. By the end of dinner Dean had eaten another serving and was now on his second piece of apple pie and a glass of hard crown apple whiskey the Y/n had bought earlier that day.

"Good night you two love birds. Tweet tweet. I'm heading to bed." Dean said kissing Y/n's temple, and patting my shoulder he walked out of the library.

"I'm sorry about him, Y/n. He doesn't have a sensor." I said apologizing for my older brother. Y/n got up waving him off and grabbed the leftover dishware.

I followed behind her grabbing what she couldn't. "He's fine. He should know better, but he's okay Sammy." Y/n said. Not many people called me Sammy besides Dean and Y/n, but it always seemed sweeter coming out of her mouth.

Y/n started to wash dishes. "Can I ask you a question Y/n?" She hummed, so I continued on. "Why do you never say anything while we are on a hunt. You don't always have to follow out stupid ideas...." I said noticing that Y/n had now turned around and was facing me.

"Look I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying that I'd like to know what you're thinking for a while. especially when we are on a hunt. Your opinions matter to me. I hope you know that." I said, crossing my arms across my chest.

'Shut up would Ya'. You don't know how much that means to me.' "I know that you can hear what I'm thinking." Well, that went south very quickly and my stupid facial expression doesn't help the situation. "How long have you known?" I asked.... We stood in silence beside the water in the sink running. "Since before dinner when I was thinking about kissing the amazing chef that made dinner. Because I would still kiss the chef." Y/n said. setting the plate down on the kitchen island.

'Do you want me to kiss you, Samuel?' She said in her thought. I hummed. Shaking my head, licking my lips in anticipation. 'Words Sammy Dear.' She thought. "Just come over here. If this is what happens when I can hear your thoughts, I may be okay with being cursed by a witch ever so often." I said before our lips crashed together.

Our kiss was short-lived when Y/n left mine. "What are you talking about the witch from last night's hunt?" I shook my head. "We need to go get that witch, kill her, get her to remove the curse. Whatever, because as much as it's cute somethings a girl wants to keep to herself." Y/n said, coming back up to my lips and pecking them.

"You're gonna be the death of me," I said, before following her over to the sink to help wash dishes. I think I might have fallen in love with you Y/n. I thought.

"Hey... I heard that." Y/n said. I rolled my eyes, "No you didn't." Confusion replaced Y/ns soft features. "Okay, what did I say then, Y/n?" I asked. "I think I might have fallen in love with you Y/n" Y/n answered.

"Damn it. We really gotta find that witch, Samuel." Y/n said.

Completed on: 04/11/2021

#sammy #Sam Winchester #samgirl #sam winchester x reader #sam #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural fic #supernatural x reader #supernatualfluff #fluff #fallinginlove #sam winchester #fem reader #fem #dean winchester #supernatural one shot #supernatural fandom #supernatural fanfiction #witchhunt #hunting

[wenwenbittercake]

Bakugo x Mlif reader✨✨✨💕

(This fan fiction is inspired by Rihanna's Needed Me. Y/N here is not pregnant or have a child but she's 30 so😏😏🤭🤭🤭. I apologize if there's any grammar or spelling errors.

Warning:little bit smut, cigar, alcohol, toxic behavior,milf,age-gap Enjoy✨✨✨💞💞💕💓🧡🖤💚)

*Music sounds* Tdy is Bakugo Katsuki's birthday. Your best friend's son. He just turned 21 tdy. Everyone in the party is all talking about him, praising him of how good of a hero he is. You don't care. You just sit on the couch, holding a whiskey in hand. Tbh, the part is pretty boring. Mitsuki already headed to bed, you don't know anyone here or even want to know them. They all look boring and dull, expect him.

Standing a few feet away from you, talking to his guest. You playfully stare at his broad form. It was like yesterday, when Bakugo was born. You were only in high school at that time. You used to carry him in your arms and now you are staring at him like a piece of meat. He is wearing a red coat,a black T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. The truth is you don't love him or have a little crush on him or anything. You just want to get out of this party and fuck your childhood crush's son. Yes you used to like her when you were young. She's someone you look up to since you were a child. It's suck a pain in the ass that she married a coward. But thanks to that bastard, she gave birth to this beautiful child.

It seems like Katchan notices, he looks away but you can see a faint blush on his face. You giggle at his reaction, how cute. You got off the couch and walk upstairs. You head to the bathroom to wash of the stress out of your head. You still remember the time Bakugo asked you out with a flower when he was a kid, he was about 8-9 at that time. You laugh it off, not taking it seriously. Will he still feels the same now?

The hot water starts to run down ur body. You are used to taking a shower at Mitsuki's house after a party and she didn't mind.

A few moments later, you hear a faint moan, you were surprised at first, you thought it must be Mitsuki and her husband but no. It's coming from the door and it sounds like a male. You quickly open the bathroom door to see Bakugo, panting and blushing with his fully hard dick in his right hand.

"Um-i-uh, sorry." He quickly pull hi jeans up and about to leave before you pull him back into the bathroom. Pushing him back against the bathroom sink.

"So.. Pro hero Dynamite. I don't think we're done here." You swing both of your arms on his shoulder.

"What do you mean." His breaths are heavy, you can hear his heat beating fast. He look to his sides to not look at your naked body. You giggled. How cute.

"You know what I mean." You said as you starts to grind on his hard dick.

"Hey hey hey what-wait, we can't do this." You giggled at his embarrassed face. So cute.

"Because, you're my mom's friend. It's wrong." He said as he stops you from moving.

"She doesn't have to know if that's wht u want. It can be our little secret, right?"

"You.." He can't say anything but watches you get on your knees.

"Ohhh poor babe, do u missed me that much?"

A few day had pass by, your body was left sore after the party. After all the countless orgasms you had with him, you can't say you were disappointment after all. You walked through the dark streets back to your house in a rainy night. You just came back from your job to see a red sports car parked in front of your house. You expect it to be a dick appointment you called for that u forgot. But when you got closer to the car, you realized it was bakugo's car. He was sitting in his car, having a cigar in hand and it seems like he's waiting for you. You tapped on his window, making him snapped out of his thoughts. He immediately got off the car and hugs you.

"Why didn't you answer calls?" You rolled your eyes. Another clingy bitch.

"Because.. It's a one time thing." He looks at you in you eyes with anger and a bit of sadness.

"You really think you can just run off like that?"

"Katchan listen! I'm so much older than you, it's not good for both of us."

"Why didn't you say that before to starts to suck me off? Huh?" His voice is more demanding now.

You scoffs, "It's because I was bored. I fucked you cause I was bored that night. You don't mean anything to me Katchan. You are just another guy on my hit list. So don't think too highly of yourself." You said as you turn around to leave.

Suddenly, you felt a large hand grabbing your nape like a cat. Turning you quickly to kiss him. It was so fast you didn't even had time to scream. The umbrella you were holding is now on the ground. You can feel the cold rain hitting your warm skin. And the kiss you and Bakugo shared was intoxicating. His tongue slid pass your lips when you gasp in shock. You try to push him away but failed as he grabbed your right hand that was about to hit him.

You are now trapped, the only way out is to just give in. You hated this feeling. Being trapped and controlled by another person. You hate this. You both finally parted from your deep kiss. You both look at each other in shock, your eyes glazed with rainwater or tears.

"Ik I am nothing to you, but i've fallen for you. I can't get you out of my head anymore." You chuckled at his respond.

No. 2 hero Dynamite himself is begging for your love. How iconic. You place your arms around his shoulder, looking up at him.

"If you want it, than beg." Bakugo scoffs at your answer.

He wasn't expecting this from you. He expects you to be scare, yelling at his face and hitting him but no, you made him beg, makes him feel like he's lower than you, so low that he needs to beg for your love. Like a child begging for their parent's forgiveness. He feels his pride falling. The shame and embarrassment mixed into a sweet and addicting cocktail that he never tasted before.

"I-i need you. Y/N.i need your love, s-so please love me." Bakugo looks down at you with pleasing eyes. You smile in satisfaction. You pulled him into a soft and sweeter kiss.

So not cute.

(Thank you for reading my fan fiction. I hope you all enjoy it. I'm sorry I didn't put too much smut. But I do put a little bit. Thank you🙏🌹❤)

#bnha fanfiction #my hero academy fanfiction #bakugo x reader #bakugou fan fiction #mha bakugou #bakugou x y/n #bnha bakugou #bnha fluff #bakugou katsuki #bnha

[athenamikaelson]

I'm wildin with this one rn. It's okay if you don't want to write it! Klaus Mikaelson x reader who can't get hurt (if that makes sense??) The Mikaelsons get kidnapped, reader comes for them and gets stabbed pretty badly but they just go "I mean that's fair." and keep going and later at night they're all just trying to process and Klaus spends the night with them asking a million questions?

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Request- I'm wildin with this one rn. It's okay if you don't want to write it! Klaus Mikaelson x reader who can't get hurt (if that makes sense??) The Mikaelsons get kidnapped, reader comes for them and gets stabbed pretty badly but they just go "I mean that's fair." and keep going and later at night they're all just trying to process and Klaus spends the night with them asking a million questions?

 Warnings- Kol being a dumbass, swearing, blood.

Word Count- 1,342

Walking into the witch’s quarter I’m surrounded by tombstones and mausoleums. Looking at my phone again to see if Nik had responded to any of my texts or call. Nothing. Great.

Not that Nik, or any of the other Mikaleon’s would answer giving the fact that the witches had something to do with their disappearance. 

When I had first realized they were all missing I had tried calling all of them, even Kol who doesn’t even know how to use his phone. That’s how desperate I was. When I couldn’t find where they went I did a location spell that led me here. As Nik says, “Dead or alive witches are a pain in my ass.” He would always look at me after he said it though and tell me I was an exception. Not that I always believed him though. I know I’m a pain in his ass. But for some reason he still loves me. That really doesn’t help my god complex.

Walking through the rows of graves I try to close in my hearing to notice anything out of the ordinary. I am in a graveyard so that doesn’t really help. I continue walking for what feels like hours, when in reality it’s probably been like 5 minutes. Goddamn I hate exercise, Nik is lucky I like him. 

“To our ancestors we pray, please take this sacrifice and give us the strength to defeat our enemies!” I hear coming around the corner of an old grave which must’ve been over 100 years old. I peak around the grave, which just touching it gives me the creeps. Not to my surprise I see a group of maybe 7 witches surrounding an altar. Fucking extremists. Why can’t they find a different hobby other than sacrificial murders? What did catch me by surprise though was the whole of the Mikaelson gang chained up against the walls. Jesus Christ that’s impressive. I mean chaining up ALL of the Mikealson clan. That takes some balls. 

“You know darling, if you’d just unchain me now I’ll consider not ripping your spine out and strangling you.” Kol’s voice broke the silence. I visually roll my eyes. Classic Kol.

The witch who seems to be around mid 50’s, the eldest of the group I presume, walks up to Kol and puts what appears to be a necklace with a ruby like gem on the end, in Kol’s face. 

“As long as I have this gem darling, you and your bastard family aren’t going anywhere.” The witch mockingly says. Which earns a growl and pulling his chains from Kol. 

“This is ridiculous, you psychotic witches. Unchain us now or I swear to-” Nik yells at the witch. 

“You’ll what? What will you do Niklaus. You’ll yell? Pull on those chains? Tell me, what will the bastard child do?” That bitch snarckingly says. Oh I know that bitch didn’t just say what I thought she said. Ok I’m killing this bitch. I can’t take on 7 witches by myself though. I need my man. I just need to get that damn necklace from that old bag. Shouldn’t be hard enough. 

I walk behind the columns to the other side where Nik and his family are chained up. 

“Hey babe.” I whisper to Nik. Nik whips his head around and his eyes visibly widen when he notices me so I just send him a big smile. 

“Y/N? What the bloody hell-” Nik is about to question me before I press my finger to stop him from talking and press my other finger to my lips to signal to him to shut up. 

“I’m saving the day.” I smile as I walk out of the shadows to the old witch. Múltiple, “Y/N?”’s come from the Mikaelsons while just a laugh comes from Kol.

Oh shit I didn’t bring a weapon. I look around quickly before I see Bekah kick a large metal poker at me. Picking it up and sending her a smile I walk up behind the bitchy witch. 

“I know you didn’t call my boyfriend a bastard, you whore.” Before she can fully turn around I whip the poker at her and hit her in the face, knocking her down. Which unfortunately gets the attention of the other witches. I quickly rip the necklace of her neck and freeze. 

“Fuck. What do I do with this?” 

“Break it love. Bloody hell do I have to do everything?” 

“Shut it Kol, also.. thanks.” I throw the necklace on the ground and stomp my foot on it, breaking it into pieces. 

In a second all the Mikaelsons rip off their chains. The younger witches all freeze, scared expressions on their faces. Ha. I’m about to turn and hug Nik who starts to walk my way before I feel something hit my stomach. I feel a sudden pain and my shirt starts to dampen. I reach my hand down and pull it back to see it covered in blood. I look up to see Nik looking at my stomach before he looks at me, frozen. 

“Well I guess that’s fair.” Everything goes black.

I woke up surrounded by darkness. I try to get my eyes to relax to my surroundings but nothing happens. My mind is foggy until I remember the blood. I reach down to see that I’m in one of Nik’s shirts. I pull it up to look at my stomach, which is covered in dried blood. But no wounds. I throw my legs over the bed and walk towards the door. Light bombards my eyes as I peer down the hallway. I can hear voices coming from the dining hall as I make my way down there.

Nik and his family are all sitting in different areas drinking red liquids. Which doesn’t take a genius to figure out what that was.

“Hello Mikaelsons, I LIVED!” I make myself present to the vamps. Elijah and Nik both stand up and look at me worriedly, while Rebekah sat there with a questionable look and Kol was sitting smirking in the corner. 

“Y/n, you must still be tired and sore. I believe it would be best if you went back to sleep.” Elijah tried to reason with me as he started to walk towards me. I quickly stopped him with a raise of my hand. 

“Eli I’m fine. I am doing good. Walking and shit, you know. I’m feeling fire.” I walk past Eli and sit down next to Bekah which gets me a smile thrown at me and a disapproving look from Elijah as he comes to sit down back in his seat. Nik just stands in the same spot looking me over. His eyes held longer on my stomach where my wound was. 

“Y/n, come with me please.” Nik starts to walk upstairs before I can object.

When I make it up to our shared bedroom I barely have a second before Nik’s arms wrap around me surrounding me in a hug. 

“You scared me.” His eyes come to meet mine, I nearly break down when I see tears breaching the edges of his eyes.

“Hey, I’m fine now baby. I’m ok.” I reach up to brush away the tears threatening to fall onto his cheeks. 

“When I saw you fall to the floor I thought my world would end right there.” I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss his nose.

“You really think you can get rid of me that quickly?” A hurt look crosses NIk’s face after I say that. 

“How could you even joke like that? I mean you alway make these jokes after bad things happen? God you’re so much like Kol. And the thing you said when you got stabbed! Most people would scream or cry. You just made a sarcastic comment.”

“I don’t know man. I’m built differently I guess.” I quickly press a kiss to his lips which he quickly returns before I pull away. Confusion crosses his face. 

‘Don’t. Ever. Tell. Me. I’m like Kol.”

#kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson icons #Morrigan #Author #the originals #Stefan Salvatore #damon salvatore #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus x reader #thecwshows #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries #stefan x elena #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson #elena gilbert #supernatural fanfiction #athenamikaelson

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Stranger

I Am Sorry

Summary - Alone in your room, you try to figure out how your past life had been.

Pairing - Dean x Reader (??), Sam x Reader (platonic)

Warning - Angst, mentions of drinking, swearing and did I mention angst

Word Count - 2066

Square Filled - Bunker ( @spndeanbingo )

A/N - So I know I have been a little MIA for a over a week now and it has been a lot time since I have updated any of my series. But I finally got my motivation to continue this part and my other series so hopefully I won't abandon this series again. Regularity and me - we don't have a good relationship.

Anyways happy reading!

Unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine.

Spn divider by the talented @talesmaniac89

Series Masterlist

There were no more tears left to cry. You had spent the whole evening crying, trying to think of any possible reason as to why Dean would do such a thing, trying to bring yourself forgive him, but you couldn't. You needed to know why Dean took such a drastic measure to erase himself from your life.

Your stomach grumbled. You sat up and rubbed your face with your hands. You didn't know what time it was, but you assumed it was sometime around midnight, considering how long you had been in the bunker. You needed food in your stomach. There was a knock on your door. You hoped it was not Dean. You couldn't face him right now.

“Y/N, it's Sam,” the voice called from the other side of the door, making you sigh in relief. You got out of your bed, and walked up to the wooden door, opening it.

“Hey,” you said.

“I got you food,” Sam smiled.

“A literal angel.” You said.

“I figured you might be hungry after everything you have been through and I also got you a drink.” He gave you a knowing smile.

“Thank you. Do you want to….come in I guess,” you told him.

“If that's okay with you.”

“Sure.” Sam followed you into the room, a plate of food in one hand, and some clothes on another.

“I hope you still like junk food.” Sam chuckled.

“Oh yeah!” You grinned, smiling for the first since the fallout.

“Here,” he handed you the clothes, “You need some fresh pair of clothes. They might be a little too big.”

“Thank you.”

“I'm sorry.” He said.

“What're you sorry for? Your brother's a dumbass,” you scoffed.

“Cas said that what he did is irreversible.” He said. “He said something about grace and how magic done by grace can't be reversible so-”

“I won't remember anything.” You said.

“I called Rowena-”

“The witch?” You asked.

“Yes. She said she will pay us a visit tomorrow. Maybe she can come up with a solution,” he hoped.

“I don't think so, Sam.” you exhaled loudly.

“Listen I am not supporting his stupid decision but Dean, at that time he thought he was doing the right thing,” He sighed. “We'll figure somethin’ out, Y/N/N.”

“He could have talked to me. We could have come up with a different solution other than me having to live without remembering half of my life,” you bitterly laughed.

“I know.” Sam walked up to you and suddenly pulled you into a tight hug.

“Sam, c-can't….breathe,” you gasped.

“Sorry,” he sheepishly smiled and let go of you, “I missed having you around. I really hated the decision Dean made. He didn't think of anyone. You were like my little sister I never thought I needed. I really missed you Y/N/N.”

“Wish I could say the same.” You gave him a sad smile.

“Eat up. You must be starving. Maybe we can reverse the spell….or whatever it is,” Sam said.

“Yeah. Thank you….for everything, Sam,” you said, as he smiled and turned to leave the room, “Sam, wait.”

“Yeah?” He looked back at you.

“I-”

“What is it?” He insisted.

“How is he?” You blurted out.

“Dean? He's, you know, holed up in his room, drinking. I'll check on him on my way out to make sure his liver survives the night.” Sam said.

“Okay.” you said and wished him goodnight as he left the room. After taking a swig from the bottle of beer, you finished off with the burger Sam had brought for you before retreating back to the bed.

Sleep didn't come easy that night. Mind plagued by various thoughts, you kept tossing and turning in your bed. Not only the thoughts about how your previous life was but also the dream you had, when the Djinn had captured you, kept you up all night. Dean said those monsters show you what your heart desires, then why did you dream about a life with Dean? He was just a guy at the bar for you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you realised a big chunk of your memory was missing and you wouldn't probably ever get it back.

You wanted to scream and punch Dean for playing with your life, playing with your relationship, but right now, lying in your bed in which was supposed to be your home, you felt helpless. You got out of the bed finally giving up on sleep and started to rummage through the drawers of your nightstand - searching for anything that would possibly bring back your memory.

Nothing significant caught your eyes until you saw an old leather-bound diary and small black box. Climbing back into your bed, you looked curiously at the two things in your hand.

You opened the box and found a bunch of pictures inside it. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked at the pages. There were four pictures in total, all of them of you and Dean. There was this one picture, which was probably clicked by Sam of you and Dean laughing in the backseat of his car but what made your heart break was the diamond ring which was clearly visible on your left hand. An inaudible sob left your lips as you saw the next picture which completely shattered your heart. You didn't have any memory of the happiest day of your life. You stared at the picture of you standing in a white dress in front of a mirror, lips curled up into a small smile and eyes sparkling with hope and happiness. You saw the reflection of Dean in a black tux in the mirror as he stood behind you with a camera pointed at the mirror, as he clicked a picture of his bride. You got married that day, you were happy, you both were. Then why did Dean have to go and throw out every good thing he ever had?

Picking up the diary, you started to look through. It was some sort of a journal you used to keep. You flipped through the pages until a certain entry grabbed your attention.

‘This is frustrating. I should be able to maintain my cool! We were on a damn Rugaru hunt. If Sam wasn't there to save my ass, I would have died. Stupid Dean with his stupid gorgeous face. There were so many times I wanted to tell him everything but what if he doesn't feel the same? Goddamnit! I think I will take off for a few days. Clear my head so that I stop daydreaming about that green eyed son of a bitch!’

You chuckled at your bluntness. You flicked through the pages and started reading another entry.

‘I feel numb. I don't know what to think anymore. He's gone. Just like that. I don't even know if he's dead or not. Sammy went out for a drive leaving me behind in the motel room. That was three days ago. I don't know what to do anymore. Bobby's dead. Cas is gone too and Dean is, I don't know anymore. I need him to come back. Please. I can't live without him. Please, come back.’

You had so many questions about what had happened that day. From the diary entries, you could feel how much love you had for Dean. He said that he still loved you. The same question haunted you again, then why did he push you away? You flipped to the last entry in the journal.

‘I am scared for him. He won't talk to me. He would barely look at me. The mark is eating him alive on the inside. I am scared and confused. I don't know how to help him. This is not the Dean Winchester I married. I need my husband back.”

That was the last entry in your diary. You read it a few times but couldn't understand anything. What was the mark? What happened in the last few days? You needed to talk to Sam, hoping he would tell you everything.

You had spent your entire night or what was left of it reading through the journal and rummaging around your room for any other clues or snippets from your forgotten life. Three short knocks on the door made you jump out of your skin.

You hesitated a little before opening the door. After everything you had learnt overnight, you were in no state to face Dean. You had questions that you needed answers but you didn't want to talk to him.

“You okay, Y/N?” A voice asked and you sighed in relief when you realised it was Sam. You went over and opened the door.

“Y-yeah, I'm fine. Why?” You casually asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“Nothing….I was going out for my morning run and heard sounds from your room. Why are you up so early? You-uh, you never were a morning person,” Sam said.

“Can't sleep.” You replied.

“This all must be very overwhelming for you.”

“And confusing. I have so many questions,” you frowned, “I need answers, Sammy.”

Sam’s eyes sparkled as he heard you call him ‘Sammy’, and he smiled at you.

“What?” You cocked your head sideways.

“You called me Sammy.” He said.

“Is that-did I do….did I say something wrong?” You asked.

“No no no, you always used to call me that. You picked up that name from Dean and then you hardly called me Sam anymore,” he chuckled, “you want to go with me for a run? It will clear your head and I know you still don't want to….meet him.”

“Uh-huh. Give a few minutes to get ready. Maybe you can give me the answers to the millions of questions I have,” you said.

“Sure.”

“So he became a demon?” You asked, panting as you tried to keep with Sam’s long legs. You were honestly shocked to learn about how your life had been. Demons, ghosts, werewolves, vampires - that's all that you knew in that life. The Winchesters were on a run from law and some assumed they were dead, and they did die a number of times.

“Yeah. And that's when things started to go downhill,” Sam said.

“What do you mean?” You asked as you both approached the bunker door. Sam kept quiet.

“Sammy?”

“I think you should ask Dean. It's not my place to say,” he whispered.

“But-” Sam shook his head and went down the stairs and you followed him.

Dean was still nowhere to be found which was a relief but you were also a little stressed out about his condition. He was cooped up in his room since the previous night with a bottle of Jack - as told to you by Sam - which was definitely not healthy.

“I know he is probably the last person you want to see right now but you should talk to him. He is the only person who can speak for his actions.” You nodded your head at the younger brother.

“I need a little more time before I can even look at him.” You sighed.

“I know.” The low grumble from the other side of the room, caught your attention. You turned sideways, your heart dropping to your stomach when you took in the sight of the man in front. He looked like he had aged ten years overnight. His red rimmed eyes were heavy with guilt and sadness. His scruffy cheeks were sunken and pale. “I couldn't find any of you in the bunker.”

“We went for a run.” Sam replied.

“Run? I thought you-” Dean looked at you.

“People change.” You averted your eyes, making him wince at your coldness. He knew he deserved it but he still loved you.

“Well, I took a shower so I don't reek of whiskey anymore. You never liked the smell of alcohol on me.” Dean said, trying to make small talk to break the uncomfortable silence.

“Good for you.” You needed to leave the room so you turned on your heels to leave.

“Y/N-” his voice made you stop in your tracks. “I'm sorry. You-you don't have to forgive me but….please, I-I need you to know that I'm sorry.”

“I know.” And that's all you said before you went to your room.

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