Summary : you moved on lol . I started listening to white Ferrari and it got me Fr ...sorry lol
You knew you were going to have the crash out of the century when even Megan thee stallion couldn't help you .
The entire car ride home was filled with silence .
New Mom ? Finance ? Heeso would agree to it ?
Are they on fucking fentanyl .
You clearly could not follow their logic. Where were they going with this .
Ah yes .
Let's erase y/n from the equation .
And as for that midget yoongi , what was he even thinking entertaining her shit . So what if he loved her , he wasn't a dumbass . He knew how much Heeso meant to you . You decided enough is enough .
Stepping into your house felt like you gave into what yoongi and minha had decided on . Heeso was staying with them whilst you nursed a glass of wine trying to overcome this betrayal from yoongi .
Someone will have a piece of your mind .
So you phone the person who has been updating you these past few years . Clearly he sucked at his job .
"Ahhhh my y/n , it's ever a pleasure to hear your voice "
Deep breathes .
Deep breathes y/n
" What the fuck is wrong with you and your friends Jin . Seriously Jin . Why didn't you tell me he is going to marry her . He wanted to take Heeso away from me Jin , all because he was marrying some bitch and you didn't bother to tell me , you didn'â fuck you Jin . I hate you ,I hate yoongi , I hate Minha , I hate all of you ".
Jin could hear your voice crack , a sob threatening to free itself from your lips.
When yoongi left you , you didn't cry . You somehow prepared yourself for his departure , but you also waited for his heart to change .
It never did .
He changed for someone else .
But now , sitting on the floor of your kitchen , remembering the altercation between your ex husband and his new wife .
It bruised you deeply .
And Jin , he knew this too .
Jin didn't know how else to help you , it pained him to hear your sobs wreck his phone speaker .
You can't handle this heartache anymore. It physically hurts you speaking about yoongi .
"âand I looked like such , such an idiot Jin . Hearing them talk about erasing me from Heeso's life like I didn't have a say and it hurt that yoongi thought so low of me Jin. He knows that she's my world , why would he think this way Jin. Why ".
The tears cascade down your cheeks, disappearing in the materials of your dress . You pull your knees up to your chest . This cannot be the life you were meant to live .
"Y/n"
"No Jin , I don't want to hear it "
"Y/n please listen to me "
"You don't get it Jin , heâ it's like , you just weren't there "
" Y/n , please listen to me . Stop crying jagi okay . Listen to me first and you can yell at me later okay . Yoongi has been messing around with many people , young ones , older ones . If they were pretty enough for him , he didn't care . We didn't think that Minha was going to be a constant figure in his life . We didn't even know he saw her romantically . He just told us he was fucking her y/n . That's all I knew and I'm sorry . I should have been more clued up. Please don't cry over him jagi , he isn't worth any of it ."
"Is he Jin ? He isn't worth anything when he is the father of my baby . And he looked at me like I was another fling in his life ".
"Y/n , you don't get it . Yoongi doesn't see you the same way you see him . He doesn't hold importance to you like you do to him . "
"So it's my fault , huh ,is that what you're saying seokjin "
"No princess , it isn't . You're just someone who cares Too deeply for assholes like him ."
You sniffle at his words . Maybe it is time that you finally let yoongi go , just like he did to you .
"ây/n , why don't you open up , I got some hot curry and two tubs of chocolate ice cream . "
Open up ? Jin was here ...did he drive all the way to you ? In the dark ?
You dust yourself as you get up . You didn't really bother to change from the black dress Heeso chose for you .
Opening the door to Jin charming smile warmed your heart from the series of today's events .
You hug him tightly before anything . You wanted to be upset with him about yoongi but you couldn't .
Throught-out every stage of yoongi's absence, Jin was present .
He was the one who drove you to and from parent meetings , never once making an appearance because he respected yoongi too much .
Jin was there for you .
He was your anchor .
"If you hug me any Tighter y/n ,I'll explode into atoms ".
He was your safe place .
In the dim lit kitchen , Jin can see your tear stained face . How wet your round cheeks look , your eyes are puffy and red and you keep sniffling .
He hates how this whole situation made you forget who exactly you were .
No one knew you better than he did .
He was more pissed than you when news broke out to everyone that yoongi had divorced you .
Which dumb bitch would divorce you .
Like really .
You were a witty woman who knew her worth . You carried confidence in every step . Your beauty was so captivating ,it had every male gaze lingering on you as you walked by .
Then there was your scent . You smelled so fucking good . My god .
Jin wanted to bury his nose in the junction of your neck to surround himself with your sweet smell .
Everything about you made sense to Jin. He loved how small your fingers looked compared to his . How your voice was so soft when speaking to Heeso .
And don't get Jin started on when you became a mother .
Fuck .
It was like you got more beautiful to him .
Literally.
He never understood why yoongi did what he did . That man had to be dumb .
His daydream of you slowly came to an end when you locked eyes with him .
Your beautiful orbs searching his like you're looking for an answer to a question you don't know yet .
Jin makes his way over to where you are .
Was the size difference always this big between the two of you ?
He cradles your face with both of his hands , thumbs wiping away your tears .
He watches your expression for any sign of hesitance but you don't , you lean into the warmth of his palms .
You felt like fragile glass in his hands .
"Y/n I think it's time you finally find someone who truly loves you . Just as much as you can love them ... I want to be that man y/n ".
Your breath hitched . Words caught in the back of your throat . Tears slipping past your waterline , not out of heartache , but out of how sincere Jin's words were . Like he carried this weight for years .
"â I cant bear to see another man not treat you right , not when I'm right here Jagi . I know yoongi fucked up , but I won't . Just give me a chance y/n ".
Oh Jin .
You didn't need to hear anything else .
You buried your face into his chest , tears streaming down your face . The two of you stayed that way , not caring about the food that's now gone cold . Just two souls who longed to be loved correctly .
5 months have passed since that meeting between you ,yoongi and minha.
You came to terms that Minha would be a lasting figure in your daughter's life and you made peace with it .
These past five months have been euphoric in many ways .
Jin made life seem brighter . He filled the silence with his terrible dad jokes , your kitchen always had a sweet aroma surrounding it , Heeso created a special bond with Jin that you're sure you yourself cannot break .
He built a home with you and your Heeso .
You didn't tell anyone about you and your Jin's relationship . It belonged to the two of you .
So imagine Mr Min's suprise when he comes to drop of Heeso at your place and sees his own fucking friend , kissing you so passionately that the both of you didn't know heeso and him had entered your front door .
Why in the fuck was his hands gripping your waist like it belonged there .
Better question
Why the hell were you holding him so close .
Would things have progressed if he didn't enter your damn house .
Heeso's laughter is what makes Jin move from the very , very enjoyable position he was in .
You don't register yoongi standing by the archway .
He hasn't said a single word to you .
You're startled when your eyes meet his .
Black orbs staring at you like you killed his damn cat .
"Uhhh , yoongi ? Why didn't you call me?"
"I did . Multiple times ."
You know that tone all to well .
It's that ' I'm fucking pissed at you and I clearly want to talk to you about it but I'm a dick at communicating '.
"Oh right , right yes Uhm ... Sorry "
"Have you two fucked "
You could hear Jin choking in the background from how upfront yoongi was being .
And so what if he did ? Is that not what every couple does ?
"I don't see how that's an issue here yoongi ".
"It is , he's my friend and he's fucking my ex wife ".
"respectfully yoongi , you're my brother but she doesn't mind when I do so..don't think it's an issue ."
"what the fuck are you gaining from this Jin ?"
Ah .
So he thinks that Jin is exactly like him .
He'll use you until he doesn't need to anymore and throw you away just like he did .
"Nothing yoongi , we've been dating for the past five months , I'm not gaining anything but wanting to love her properly"
"Oh".
"Uhm ... I thinâit's okay yoongi , we didn't want to tell anyone . But i guess we should "
You lock hands with Jin's , turning to him as you speak to yoongi .
"â yoongi this is my boyfriend ..Jin "
Yoongi's eyes doesn't leave yours , not for one second . Because he knows that look all to well .
You used to look at him like that .
And fuck .
Did you feel this way when he introduced you to Minha .
He doesn't know why , but he wants to run away from you and cry in his studio .
He doesn't understand why he feels so hurt by the fact you're no longer his . He doesn't like how Jin fits into your space better than he did .
He hates this feeling .
"That's nice y/n ...and Jin . I'm â I'm really happy for you ".
"Thank you yoongi ".
He doesn't stay to hear you ask him if he wants to stay for dinner .
His Keys are clenched in his fist as he walks towards the door . His eyes catches a little Polaroid stuck on the mirror . A picture of Yoongi holding baby Heeso as he smiles down at her .
He remembers that day so clearly .
He wonders if he could have kept the marriage alive if he had just ...tried â Like you did .
He breaks a little when he hears you laughing at some stupid thing Jin said .
The two of you used to sound exactly like that . He knows he's wrong to think that way when he has Minha waiting for him at home and you , you moved on from him .
What could have been between you and him plagued his mind through the whole car ride home .
You and Heeso were his world and now he shares his world with Jin .
Summary: When your neighbor Jin is dealing with a leaky pipe in his kitchen, you rush to his aid. But oh no, now you're both soaked... Guess what happens next.
Warnings: MDNI, explicit sexual content, cheesy barely there plot that's straight from some 90s porno, reader is a bit shy, based on Jin's only scandal (he has a horse c*ck), comedy, first time together, heavy make out, oral (both receiving), PiV, protected sex, bit of dirty talk where Jin is still a comedy king as always, Jin being very sweet even though he is so big that you can see MC's stomach bulging from the outside :)
A/n: Inspired by Jin's recent habit of exposing his stomach. Which I approve of. Heavily.
Wordcount: 4.8k
Masterlist
Itâs Saturday afternoon and you just sat down on your couch, strawberry matcha latte in one hand, your phone in the other. That drink got popular for a reason and since you finally gave in and tried it yourself, youâve been indulging in it almost every other day. It might be partially due to the hot weather, but your new obsession even dethroned your long time favorite, a dirty chai latte. Now instead of having to replace your chai syrup every month, you keep pureed strawberries in your fridge.
You shuffle back on the sofa, cozying into the pillows behind you, ready to aimlessly scroll on your phone for a while.
A sudden loud thump, followed by a hissing sound and cursing makes you almost drop your cup. God damn, you almost spilt the matcha on yourself and the couch. The noise undoubtedly comes from your next-door neighbor. You would have strangled Jin had he made you soil your new cushions.
He was actually the one to put you on to the strawberry matcha. Jinâs always in for a fruity treat, never one to care about being judged for his âgirlyâ drink choices. Just yesterday he knocked on your door, as you were getting ready to go out with some girlfriends, to borrow some of your strawberry mush. With a pout and a big sigh too, as if heâd die werenât you to provide him with the missing ingredient for his matcha. Jin is big on dramatics, thatâs also why hanging out with him is always a fun time. You think he might actually implode if he doesnât do anything dumb for a few minutes.
So, what the hell is he doing now, causing all this ruckus on a sunny Saturday afternoon?
Jinâs voice keeps thundering through your shared wall. âFuck, fuck, shit, no!â you hear him yelling. Well, now youâre worried. Did he hurt himself?
You sigh and put your drink on the coffee table, already mourning the relaxing day you had planned to enjoy. With urgency in your step, you hurry out of your door, not even bothering to put on shoes. You know Jin never locks his door when heâs home, a habit youâve scolded him for multiple times. Now though, you are glad about it as you fling open his front door.
âJin? Are you alright? What the fuck?â you call out.
âKitchen!â he just yells in reply, and you scurry further into his apartment, following the loud clamor.
Your worry immediately dissolves into incredulous laughter when you spot Jin. Heâs on his knees in front of the open cupboard under his sink. The pipe is spraying water all over him with the pressure of a fucking fire hose.
âWhat the hell did you do?â you ask him, still snickering. He looks up at you, obviously trying to glare at you for laughing at his misery, but you can tell that thereâs a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. Even in the worst situations imaginable, Jin is always keeping his spirits high. You always admired this about him, his endless optimism.
âGrab my sweater from the table,â he pleads, kneeling there in the relentless spray of his sink pipes, in a white shirt and some light blue cotton boxers.
Not trying to draw out his troubles, you move to take the hoodie thatâs slung over the back of one of the dining chairs. Turning back to Jin, he waves you down to the floor next to him. You crouch and put the sweater towards the leaking pipe, trying to stop the fountain of water. The fucking cold water you realize as the stream hits you, immediately soaking your clothes. You shriek and now itâs Jin whoâs laughing.
âThe drain was blocked, I just tried to check what the problem was,â he chuckles while wiping his wet hair out of his face with the back of his hand.
âDid you empty the coffee grounds in the sink again?â you immediately accuse him. âIâve told you not to do that!â This is not the first time his kitchen sink is mysteriously clogged.Â
âI might have,â he admits with a sheepish smile. You snort and lean towards him to nudge him with your shoulder, hands occupied trying to unsuccessfully stop the water from leaking. You are basically sitting in a puddle by now and the hoodie around the pipe is already soaked through as well.
Jin is now scrambling to get up from the floor, moving to finally turn off the kitchenâs water supply. You slump your shoulders in defeat, feeling useless as you cover the leak with the dripping sweater, but youâre huffing out a laugh while doing so. This is not how you imagined - or hoped - your weekend to go.
Suddenly, the water stops flowing and you sit back on your heels with a relieved sigh.
You hear footsteps and when you turn, Jin is standing in the kitchen door, scratching his neck. Now that the chaos has come to a stop, you finally look at him properly for the first time. Heâs just standing there, water dripping off his body. Your eyes start to wander further down, from the dark strands of hair sticking to his forehead, to his chest, where the white t-shirt is clinging to him, at this point completely see through from the involuntary shower. Damn, when did Jin start working out for his body to look like this? Absent-mindedly, you start nibbling on your bottom lip as your gaze lands on his very defined v-line, uncovered as the shirt has ridden up a little, revealing the skin above his boxers. When your eyes roam even further down, you gulp, almost choking on your own saliva. You can basically see his whole dick through the wet fabric, calling it an outline would be the understatement of the year. And dear god, is that one hell of a dick. Fuck, get a grip. You try to snap yourself out of ogling Jin when you start to imagine what his cock would be like hard if itâs already this impressive soft.
You shake your head to get rid of the thought and return your gaze to Jinâs face.Â
The corner of his mouth is pulled up into a smirk and you can tell he caught you drooling over his body.
âHey, my eyes are up here,â he pouts and crosses his arms in front of his chest. âAt least take me on a date first, Jesus.â His fake frown only lasts a second - Jin was never good at keeping a straight face - before he chuckles.Â
You know heâs not actually offended but youâre still embarrassed, even though he managed to draw a little giggle from you with his dumb comment.Â
You drop your gaze to the puddle youâre kneeling in, mumbling more to yourself than him while doing so.Â
âWell, whyâd you have to walk in here all indecent and wet?â
âYouâre one to talk.â His reply makes you lift your head to find his eyes, not immediately grasping what heâs getting at now.Â
And, oh. Heâs staring right back at you. With his mouth slightly agape, heâs eyeing you up and down. A cold shiver runs down your spine and suddenly you are very aware of what you are wearing. A white flowy dress. Which is not so flowy anymore in its wet state - itâs clinging to your curves instead now. Why, of all days, did you have to wear white today? With horror, you remember that you are also not wearing a bra. You look down to your tits and find your nipples sticking straight out through the translucent fabric, hardened from the cold. A bead of water is currently running down between your breasts and Jin's gaze is unabashedly following it.Â
With heat spreading up from your neck to your cheeks, you clumsily get up from your kneeling position. When you lock eyes with Jin for a moment, the tip of his tongue slips out and licks a droplet of water from his lip thatâs dripped off his hair. You feel a familiar tightening in your abdomen and look away in shame, mortified by the fact that all it took for you to be turned on by your neighbor of 8 months was a leaking pipe. Maybe you should have listened to your friends and downloaded a dating app after your last relationship because this is ridiculous.Â
âUm, you should probably mop up this mess,â you mutter as you get up and try to move past Jin, your head lowered, eyes trained towards the floor. Well, he definitely should, because after just three steps, you slip in the puddle on the tiles and stumble until arms wrap around you and keep you from falling on your ass.
âYou okay?â you hear Jinâs soft voice close to your ear. When the adrenaline of the almost-fall wears off, you find yourself pressed against him, his arms around your back holding you close.
Your breasts are squished against Jinâs chest and one of his legs ended up being wedged between yours. His heartbeat is synced to yours, going fast and hard.
âYeah,â you breathe out with your forehead resting against his shoulder. âIâm fine.â Neither you nor Jin make any effort to move. Itâs as if time has frozen and youâre stuck in his embrace, turning your cold and clammy bodies warm again.
His breath is fanning over the side of your face with each exhale and when you finally turn your head up to face Jin, he is, once again, already looking at you. This time, a shy smile is painted across his face. An unusual sight for you, but to be fair, the whole situation is new territory. Yes, youâve hugged before, but only quickly and mostly in greeting or to say goodbye. Youâve never been flush against his body without an inch of space between you. You are very aware of the thigh between your legs too, applying slight pressure to your groin. Itâs making your stomach flutter with each tiny movement of his leg as youâre standing there, holding on to each other. Consciously fighting the urge to rut against his thigh, you blink up at him through your lashes as one of his hands moves from your lower back up to your face and he pushes your hair behind your ear.
âYouâre pretty when youâre flustered,â he whispers, his fingers still softly resting against your jaw. You could swear his leg moves against you with more intent as you feel your cheeks heat up at his words. Feeling shy, you nuzzle your face into the space where his shoulder meets his neck.
Not letting you evade his eyes, he gently lifts your head up again, cupping your face.
âCan I kiss you?â he asks quietly, looking down at you.
All you manage is a nod.
When he bends down and his lips meet yours, the fluttering in your stomach intensifies and you sigh against him. Jin is softly slotting your lips together, the pads of his fingers caressing your cheek. Heâs humming when you catch his bottom lip between your teeth and tug carefully. His tongue slips out and traces your lips, before licking into your mouth to meet the tip of your own tongue. Itâs a sweet kiss, unhurried, but it has you in a frenzy nonetheless.Â
Your hands are holding on to Jinâs sides when his own palm moves to the back of your neck and the arm around your waist pulls you against him harder. You unintentionally rub over his thigh with your crotch when he presses you to him and you whimper into the kiss, surprised by the sensation. Your reaction has an obvious effect on Jin as he immediately licks into you with more urgency. His digits slowly wander down from your back to the curve of your ass. He doesnât quite squeeze but firmly rests his hand there with splayed fingers.
At this point, you can feel Jin all over your body. Heâs pressed into all your sensitive parts and your body is about to go up in flames. You canât hold back and your hips start moving on their own accord, seeking stimulation where you need it most. Your obvious excitement isnât lost on him. You can feel his mouth twist into a grin and his hand snakes down further and under the moist fabric of your dress. He properly grips the flesh of your ass now as if to guide your movement. His dick is twitching against your right leg, slowly filling out.
Thatâs when Jin breaks the kiss and pulls away from you a little.
âAre you alright with this?â he asks you with slight uncertainty in his eyes.
The sight is making you giggle. Itâs not like you were just humping his leg from how horny heâs got you by just making out.
âAm I giving you the impression Iâm not?â you ask him grinning with your head cocked to the side.
He just huffs out a laugh and you get up on your toes to catch his mouth in another kiss while heâs kneading your ass cheeks with both of his hands now. After a moment of your mouths tangled and bodies rubbing against each other, he peels away, breathing heavily.
âLetâs move out of this mess,â he smiles and playfully slaps your butt to get you moving into the direction of his bedroom.
With your naked feet you carefully trudge through the water still all over the kitchen tiles, producing squelching sounds with each of your steps. Itâs making you laugh for some reason, your head feels airy and you giggle like a teenager as Jin leads you through the apartment.
Once inside the bedroom, he grabs your hand and spins you around, so you are back in his arms. He walks you towards the bed while placing kisses all over your face, neck and shoulders. When the back of your legs hit the bedframe, you go to plop down on the mattress but Jin stops you by picking you up with his arms under your thighs. He turns around and sits down himself, placing you in his lap in the process.
With your knees on either side of Jinâs legs, you grind down immediately, making Jin groan and fall back. His fingers are pressing into your sides while you roll your hips, gliding over Jinâs now hard cock still confined by his boxers. You giggle again, elated by the fact that heâs already so unraveled too.Â
You remember your wet dress in that moment and lift it up and over your head, leaving you in nothing but your panties. Your initial coyness has completely dissipated. Although this is far from a normal situation between you, you feel at ease with Jin. The fact that the horniness is mutual might have played a part in that.
âFuck,â you hear him breathe out from under you and when you look down, you see that heâs propped up on his elbows, watching. With his eyes darkened by hunger, he comes back up and catches one of your nipples in his mouth. You lift up on your knees to give him better access. His tongue is flicking over your hardened nub and he sucks before releasing your tit with a plop to kiss up your neck again, now gently rolling your nipple between his fingers instead. You bite back a whimper, but apparently youâre not doing a good job as you hear Jin tease you from where heâs attached to you.Â
âYouâre gonna be all shy now? I'd love the feedback.â
You groan, but as his tongue runs over the skin of your throat and he latches on to mark you with bruises straight after, you erupt into goosebumps and finally let out a high-pitched whine. You are going crazy between the soft and harsh sensations, impatience gradually building up until you canât take it anymore and you push Jin back down into the mattress.
Before you settle in his lap again, you grind down hard just once, eliciting a low moan, a stark contrast to his airy laugh from just a few minutes ago in the kitchen. Your fingers grip on to the moist fabric of his shirt and you slide it up until his stomach and chest are bare. You could already make out his abs through the white top earlier, but now, out in the open, the sight is making saliva gather in your mouth. With your gaze trained on his skin, your fingers splay across his torso, feeling the taught muscles beneath your touch. Your index finger traces from his abs to the line thatâs leading from his side down into his boxers. Itâs so fucking hot, youâve always loved a good v-line and Jinâs is absolutely driving you insane currently.
His breath hitches when you donât stop at the waistband of his underwear but instead start to peel it off of him while moving from his lap to get down on the ground between his legs. He lifts his hips up to help you pull the clingy fabric down his thighs until his dick slaps up against his stomach. Dear. God. That is the biggest cock youâve seen in your life. Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear Jin chuckle at the sight of you drooling over his dick with your mouth agape.
âBefore you ask - no, I donât need a license for that.âÂ
He shuts right up though when you wrap your hand around his shaft, not wasting a second. You tug once before letting a big bead of spit drip down on the tip of his dick where itâs mixing with the precum already pooling there. You spread the slick around with your thumb, easing the glide of your palm when you start to slowly pump him. With each flick of your wrist Jin huffs out quiet hisses.
His dick looks so damn delicious between your fingers that you canât resist leaning in and licking at the head. Jinâs thighs tense up when you suck the tip of his cock into your mouth. You let your tongue swirl through his slit before carefully lowering yourself down on his length. Thereâs no way youâre getting him all the way in. You get about halfway down his shaft before you feel your gag reflex kick in so you move back up. His hands are gripping the sheets as you bob your head up and down. Just as youâre getting a good rhythm going, his fingers tangle in your hair and he gently peels you off his cock.
You look up at him, a string of saliva still connecting your mouth to his dick and he mutters out curse words at the sight.
âCome back up here,â he directs you and takes your hand to help you up the bed. You move to straddle him again, but once youâre on top of him, he grabs your hips and rolls you off his body onto your back.
He is sitting back on his heels next to you, his eyes roaming over your body.
âBeautiful,â he whispers before leaning over you and catches your mouth in a kiss. While his tongue is gliding against yours, he comes up on top of you, one knee between your spread legs and one of his hands finds its way between your thighs. His fingertips are trailing the seams of your panties, just ghosting over the soft skin where your pussy meets your inner thighs. You whine against his lips, you canât take the teasing touches.
âP-Please,â you stutter.
âHm?â he hums into another kiss, his fingers still not where you need them.
âJin, please,â you almost beg. You canât be arsed to think about how pathetic you sound; your composure has long crumbled to dust by now. âTouch me.â It comes out in nothing but a whisper, but itâs enough for Jin to finally comply.
His fingers press into your clothed pussy, the fabric is pushed in between your folds by the movement. Jin hums when he feels your arousal seeping through it.Â
âDid I make you so wet or was it the sink?â he wonders while his fingers rub up and down your labia, feeling the slick thatâs soaked through your panties. âYouâre dripping.â
He shuffles back to remove your underwear, lifting your legs up to slide them off and discard them on the floor. He places a soft kiss on your calf before lowering your feet back to the mattress. The shirt still bunched up at his chest follows suit as he slips out of it and throws it to the side.
Jin pushes your legs up into a bent position and spreads them with his hands on your knees. He gazes at your exposed pussy with droopy lids and blown pupils. âI want to taste you so bad,â he exhales before his tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. âCan I?â
âYes, please,â you mutter and rest your head on the mattress as he leans in closer to your core. Your hand finds the back of his head while he slips his arms under your legs to pull you towards his face. It sends sparks through your body when his soft lips finally make contact with your pussy. He buries his face in your heat, his nose brushing against your pubic mound as he immediately licks between your folds. His tongue drags from your entrance up to your clit, not quite focusing on it yet though. Heâs savoring the taste of your arousal, eating you out as if you were the juiciest fruit heâs ever gotten his mouth on to. He moans into your body while heâs working his tongue. Heâs not in a rush to leave his place between your thighs anytime soon it seems. All you can do is gasp each time he makes contact with your clit, as he keeps increasing the pressure before finally giving all his attention to your most sensitive spot. Heâs switched to harder flicks now, dragging you close to the edge with each pass.
With one hand in his hair and the other gripping the blanket youâre lying on, the coil in your abdomen finally snaps and your legs press close around his head, trembling. Your voice comes out in a high-pitched shaky moan as your back arches off the bed. Jin doesnât stop until you basically melt into a puddle under his mouth. He detaches from your pussy just as you start to get overstimulated and moves back up to your face, caging your head in with his arms. He kisses you swiftly, before lifting himself back up.
âSee how sweet you taste?â he asks you, looking down at you fondly.
Heat rises up your face and you have to avert your eyes, but you still reach up to stroke his arm next to your head.
Your eyes fall to Jinâs hard cock twitching between your bodies and your pussy clenches around nothing.
âNeed you inside me,â you whisper, not quite meeting his gaze.
âOkay,â he breathes against your neck, leaving another trail of kisses down to your tits. He flicks his tongue over both of your nipples before he sits back up on his heels.
One of his hands is caressing your thigh, the other wraps around his cock and strokes a couple times before he reaches for his nightstand and fishes out a condom.
XXL, you can make out on the foil. Well, shouldnât be a surprise, but it still makes you giggle in excitement. You canât wait to find out how he feels inside you. Your pussy throbs, just as impatient as you are, so you grab for his leg, trying to urge him to hurry up.
He rips the packet open with his teeth and rolls the rubber over his length before giving it another tug. His eyes are locked on where he lines his cock up with your entrance then and he curses under his breath as he slowly watches it sink into you.
Without any prep, you feel your pussy stretch around him with every inch entering you and you whimper.Â
âHurts?â he asks you when he notices your scrunched up face and halts his movement.
âA little,â you huff. âBut in a good way. Keep going.â
Jin nods and you can tell heâs going slower than before, but he keeps pushing into you until he feels the resistance of your cervix and backs up an inch. He stills for a moment, looking into your eyes for any signs of discomfort. He pulls out a little before thrusting back in slowly. Itâs a delicious drag against your inner walls as he goes in and out, the feeling eliciting moans from you each time.Â
He is biting his lip while watching his cock disappear inside you with every pump until he finally picks up pace and he falls forwards, head lowered now as he grunts synced with his thrusts.Â
You lock your hands behind his neck and your legs are wrapped around him, pulling him closer.
It doesnât take long until his movements start to go a bit choppy and his breathing increases in speed. He sits back up again and places his hand on your lower abdomen. When your own palm follows his to your stomach, your eyes go wide. You can actually feel his cock bulging out from inside you. You press against it, making Jin lose his rhythm for a moment as he huffs out swear words again. You let your hand rest there, stunned by the new sensation. His thumb finds your clit and he rubs in tight circles that immediately make you clench around his cock. You didnât realize how close to another orgasm you were already until his touch sends bolts of electricity through you.
You meet his thrusts with a lift of your ass, pressing yourself into his hand harder in the process as well. All you can feel is Jin, Jin, Jin. All over you, in you, even protruding from your insides. The room is filled with the nasty sounds of skin slapping against skin and your moans and grunts meddled together as he fucks into you. Heâs going harder now, but you can tell heâs still trying to be careful. You wish heâd just let go. You could take it, you are sure.
âGonna come,â he warns you before his hips start to stutter as his head shoots up with his eyes squeezed shut. His mouth hangs open as he releases inside you, every spurt of cum accompanied by loud, broken moans echoing through the room.
You look at him unraveling on top of you and the sight takes you over the edge too. With a gasp your pussy throbs, milking Jin through his own orgasm as you whimper, his thumb still brushing over your clit, dragging out your bliss. You throw your head back, panting, all your limbs tingling and twitching, just as Jin is on top of you, his orgasm slowly ebbing down. He finally collapses, his arms giving out, but heâs careful not to crush you, so he plops down next to you on his side. His chest is heaving as you turn to look at his blissed-out face. You reach out to stroke his cheek softly and he sighs into the touch.
He throws his arm around your middle after pulling off the condom to tie it and put it aside.
âCuddle?â he asks you with a tired smile.Â
âYeah,â you let yourself melt into his embrace and turn to face him. You feel him go slack against you, sighing happily. Blissful exhaustion starts to wash over you and your eyes slowly blink shut.Â
You doze off for a few minutes and when you open your eyes again, you nudge Jinâs shoulder with your forehead.
âHey,â you wake him up. âWe still have to deal with the mess in your kitchen.â
âWay to ruin the mood,â Jin pouts and then suddenly starts chuckling as if heâs just thought of something.
You turn your head up to raise an eyebrow at him before rolling onto your back.
âThis is like the plot of the cheesiest porn ever,â he chortles. âNext time Iâll get stuck in the dryer I guess.â
You swat at him, but you canât deny that heâs absolutely right. And youâd like a next time, you decide for yourself.
âYou know what Iâm in the mood for?â Jin suddenly asks, ripping you from your thoughts.
âWhat?â you ask him, smiling up at the ceiling.
âStrawberry matcha.â Jin sighs in content before he leans up on his elbow and looks down at your face. âYou have some puree left?â
Masterlist
A/N: Thank you so much for reading :] Please consider reblogging or commenting if you enjoyed, or if you're shy, feel free to send us an anonymous ask! <3
( đŁđđ đđđđđ đđđđđđ ) đźđđł đ đłđ˛đş!đżđ˛đŽđąđ˛đż. Ëá˛đźâ smau +++ mdni. your best friend accidentally finds out what kink you are into and who else to try it out with, if not him, the person you trust the most in this world? cw: bdsm dynamics (daddy kink, marking, bondage, oral fixation, sadomasochism, blindfolds, and predator/prey).
Š KISSKKU do not copy, repost or modify my work.
taglist ( dm or comment to be added ) â @strhwa @way2jellyous @tinyfixon @thatonelocalbookworm
ⲠSummary: Five years after their breakup, Y/N is exhausted, overworked, and doing everything she can to keep her son happy. Unfortunately for her, River has decided the solution to all of their problems is tracking down her famous ex-boyfriend and ambushing him in the middle of BTS practice.
⢠Pairing: Taehyung x single mother!Reader â idol au
⢠Genre: second-chance romance, exes-to-lovers, unresolved feelings, mutual pining, soft angst, humor, smut (also buff-Tae cause i'm never letting that man go)
m a s t e r l i s t
Knock knock.Â
"Come in."Â
"Uhm, Taehyung-sshi?"Â
"Yeah?" Taehyung had replied as he normally would to someone calling his name, but the employee who had knocked against the door of their lounge in the practice studio continued to hesitate and fidgeted nervously as he looked up curiously. Even Hoseok and Jimin who were there with him stopped their doomscrolling on phones to focus on the interruption.Â
"There's...uh...someone asking for you."Â
Taehyung frowns, not remembering any plans for today besides practice. "Who is it?"Â
The poor man visibly swallowed.Â
"...He says he's your son."Â
Queue; a pin dropped in the room as Hoseok choked on air and Jiminâs head snapped toward Taehyung so fast it was almost concerning.
Taehyung himself only stared flatly at the employee while his brain worked through approximately twelve different possibilities in under three seconds. There was, unfortunately, only one remotely plausible answer.
"And did this supposed son say anything?"Â
"Only that it's very important."Â
"...right, bring him up."
The employee looked relieved to be dismissed from the conversation entirely, bowing quickly before slipping back out the door. The second it shut behind him, silence detonated.
Jimin blinked once. Twice. Then; âYou have a son?!â
Hoseok pointed aggressively from the couch. âTHATâS what Iâm saying!â
Taehyung groaned quietly, already regretting every decision that had led him to this exact moment.Â
âNo,â he said flatly. âI do not have a son.â
Jimin stared at him. âThen why did you sound like you knew who it was?â
âBecause,â Taehyung muttered, dragging both hands down his face, âIâm pretty sure I know who it is.â
That only made the room more confused. Hoseok sat forward. âKim Taehyung, if a child walks in here looking exactly like you, Iâm calling Namjoon immediately, and what happens after is none of my business.â
Taehyung shot him a look at the threat just as another knock sounded against the door. Before anyone could respond, the door eased open slowly and a boy stepped inside.
He looked about twelve. Maybe thirteen if you didnât look closely. Dark hair tucked beneath a black baseball cap, oversized hoodie swallowing his thin frame, backpack hanging from one shoulder. The boy looked briefly at Hoseok and Jimin first, clearly recognizing them, before his gaze landed fully on Taehyung.Â
That strange punch to the chest came suddenly. Because he looked nothing like Taehyung. But he looked so much like you.Â
The same eyes. Same habit of pressing his lips together before speaking. Same expression when nervous. For a moment, Taehyung forgot how to breathe.
The kid straightened awkwardly under the silence. ââŚHi.â
Hoseok looked between them wildly while Jimin had gone completely still.
Taehyung stared at him. âRiver?â
The boy visibly relaxed at being recognized, and Taehyung couldnât fathom why he thought it was possible to forget him. âYeah.â
God.
Last time Taehyung had seen him, River had still been missing his front teeth and carrying dinosaur bandages on his knees. Now the kid was almost at his shoulder.Â
âMy son, are you?â
The boy shrugged one shoulder easily, entirely too unbothered for someone who had just dropped a nuclear statement on one of the most famous men in the country. âIt was the only way they would even let you know I was here.â
Taehyung stood slowly, hands settling on his hips as he tried for sternness, but the traitorous pull at the corner of his mouth ruined the effect immediately. âThatâs manipulative.â
River tilted his head. âBut it worked.â
There was no way Y/N survived this kid daily without developing a migraine.
River stepped fully into the room then, closing the door carefully behind him like he belonged there. Like he hadnât just walked into a BTS practice lounge and given everyone inside half a heart attack.Â
Taehyung stared at him properly for the first time in years. Longer limbs, bigger shoes, though theyâd clearly seen better days, but the same intelligent eyes. Still carrying that same quietly observant energy heâd had as a child, except sharpened nowâmore sarcastic around the edges.
And still unmistakably yours.
âYou got taller,â Taehyung said before he could stop himself.
River huffed softly. âThatâs usually what happens after four years.â
Taehyung pressed his lips together hard, fighting laughter now. âWow. Okay.â
âYou started it.â
Taehyung ignored that completely, unable to take his eyes off the boy in front of him. âWhat are you doing here?â he asked carefully.
At that, Riverâs earlier confidence seemed to flicker. His fingers tightened around the strap of his bright blue backpack. âItâs about my mom.â
In which sukuna gets shy and forgets how to speak when you fix his chain in front of his frat brothers
A reference to this series
Itâs a friday night.
You had come over to the frat house after class, by now it was normal for you to randomly show up. It was the end of the week, with your body and mind both sore and tired from all the work youâve done all week , eyes heavy, you went straight to sukunaâs room, plopped on his bed, and drifted to sleep.
How many hours had passed since you fell asleep , Three? Four? You donât even know , you sit up , rubbing the sleep out of your eyes , with no signs of sukuna around, your throat is so dry it feels like thorns are pricking at it.
Now you were downstairs looking for water.
Unbeknownst to you, everyoneâs already there ,
The second you stepped into the kitchen, Shoko noticed you first.
Then Sukuna.
And just like always, something in him changed immediately.
Heâd been leaning against the counter beside Toji and Geto, lazily picking apart some story Gojo was telling while half the room listened in amusement. Tattoos stretched beneath the sleeves of his black shirt, rings catching against the fluorescent kitchen light every time he gestured.
He looked Confident and Sharp-edged. Like he always did.
Then his eyes landed on you and as soon as they did,His posture straightened subtly.
The tension in his jaw eased.
Like his entire nervous system recalibrated.
You walked over quietly, still sleepy enough that you barely noticed everyone watching. Sukunaâs gaze followed you the entire way until you stopped in front of him.
âYou okay?â he asked immediately.
âMhm.â Your voice came out soft from exhaustion. Then your eyes caught on the silver chain hanging crooked beneath the collar of his shirt. âYour chainâs twisted.â
âHuh?â
Without thinking much of it, you stepped closer.
Conversation around the kitchen slowly faded.
Your fingers brushed lightly against the cool metal resting against his throat as you fixed the clasp, carefully straightening where it had turned sideways against his skin.
And Sukuna went completely still and no,
Not in a dramatic way.
But the kind where someone forgets how to function entirely.
His hand tightened slightly around the cup he was holding while he stared down at you, breathing quieter ,shoulders stiff beneath your touch.
Gojo blinked. Then blinked again.
âNo fucking way.â
You didnât even notice.
You were too focused on fixing the chain properly, fingers brushing against the warm skin of his neck every few seconds.
âThere,â you murmured finally. âBetter.â
Silence.
You looked up confused.
Every single person in the kitchen was staring.
Toji looked moments away from losing consciousness laughing. Geto had physically covered his mouth trying to hide a grin while Shoko watched like sheâd just witnessed a rare astronomical event.
Gojo pointed directly at Sukuna.
âHEâS BLUSHING.â
Your eyes snapped back upward instantly And there it was.
Faint pink dusting across Sukunaâs ears and creeping slowly over the bridge of his nose while he looked at you like his brain had short-circuited.
Your lips parted slightly to say something,
ââŚwait.â
âShut the fuck up,â Sukuna muttered towards Gojo without taking his eyes off you once.
That only made everyone laugh harder.
âOh this is BAD,â Geto said through laughter. âHeâs gone.â
Because you were still standing close enough for him to feel the warmth coming off your body, your fingers lightly resting against his chest after fixing the chain.
And Sukuna looked wrecked by it.
You smiled , you just couldnât hold it in.
âAww,â you teased softly. âYouâre embarrassed?â
His eyes narrowed immediately, but it lacked its usual sharpness.
âDonât start.â
âYouâre literally red.â
âI am not.â
âYou kinda are,â Toji interrupted giddily.
Gojo looked ready to pass away from excitement. âI HAVE NEVER SEEN THIS MAN EXPERIENCE HUMAN EMOTION.â
Before you could say anything else, Sukuna suddenly grabbed your wrist gently and tugged you against his chest.
A small startled sound left you as his arm settled around your waist instinctively, keeping you tucked against his side like proximity itself calmed him down.
âEnough,â he muttered lowly.
But when you tilted your head up at him, smiling still lingering on your lips, the blush deepened anyway.
And the kitchen absolutely lost its mind.
âHE GOT SHY.â
âTHIS IS INSANE.â
âSomebody take a picture.â
âIâm gonna be sick,â Gojo announced dramatically.
Sukuna flipped everyone off immediately.
Yet even while doing it, his thumb rubbed absentminded circles against your waist beneath the hoodie.
Like touching you had already become second nature to him.
He had learnt to be gentle with you at all times, which was kinda shocking for someone like him, but he did.
And when you reached up one more time to flatten the collar of his shirt, Sukuna leaned down automatically without even realizing heâd done it.
The room erupted so loudly someone from upstairs yelled asking if a fight broke out.
Everyone was enjoying this way to much.
Meanwhile Sukuna buried his face briefly against the top of your head, muttering,
âYouâre never coming downstairs with me again.â
You could only laugh a little because you know thatâs far from the truth.
Note : i want to write so much fluff for them đ¤
only talking to sukuna's stomach mouth when he pisses you off
Sukunaâs developed an irritating habit. Whenever heâs fed up with you, or whenever he doesnât want to entertain one of your questions, heâll simply stay quiet and gesture towards his stomach. Itâs kind of like saying âtalk to the handâ. But in his case, itâs âtalk to the stomach mouthâ.Â
Then his stomach mouth will shoot you this wide, smug grin, like itâs more than happy to converse with you. And youâll just toss up your hands and groan, annoyed that your husband wonât even bother to speak with you face to face.Â
But recently you've taken Sukuna up on his offer, turning the tables to give him the silent treatment while still chatting away with his stomach. Because Sukuna underestimated just how much that mouth of his likes to rile someone up. Even if itâs the rest of his body.Â
Now, Sukunaâs lounging on the bed, limbs draped carelessly along the mattress. Heâs trying to feign indifference. Trying to pretend heâs unphased by the fact that you havenât spoken to him in four whole days.Â
But you know better. You see the slight clench in his jaw, the scowl that deepens on his face each time he steals a look your way. He watches as you sit by the window, gazing at the scenery outside.Â
When the silence stretches on longer than he can bear, Sukuna sets his pride aside to clear his throat and ask, âAre you still doing this?âÂ
You donât even spare him a glance, continuing to look out the window. âMiddle Mouth,â you say, âwill you please inform the rest of Sukuna that I have no idea what heâs talking about?â
Sukuna scoffs in disbelief, but that mouth of his flashes its teeth and singsongs, âSukunaaaa. She doesnât know what youâre talking about.â
âI heard you,â Sukuna huffs, speaking to you instead of his stomach.
He hates this whole situation. Hates that you're not speaking with him. Hates that youâve given his stomach mouth a nickname. And he hates that the mouth is entertaining it at all.Â
 His jaw clenches once more, and he sighs before saying, âYouâre ignoring me.âÂ
Heâs not wrong. For almost a week, youâve been avoiding your husband, refusing to interact or even look at any part of him other than his stomach maw. But despite all of his sulking and sour moods, you act as if nothing is amiss.
âMiddle Mouth, will you please inform the rest of Sukuna that I am not ignoring him. You and I just had a lovely conversation, didnât we?â
âSukunaaaa,â the mouth singsongs again. âShe isnât ignoring youâŚwell, me.â That grin returns, and you canât help but let out a quiet laugh. Why didnât you start speaking with your husbandâs stomach mouth sooner? He really is entertaining.
âMiddle Mouth, you can converse with me as you please.â
âI intend to,â his maw replies.Â
Sukunaâs eyes narrow, but heâs not sure whether to direct his glare at you or his abdomen. âHow long do you intend to keep up these antics?â
You brush an imaginary piece of lint from your clothes and say, "Middle Mouth, please inform the rest of Sukuna that Iâm still waiting on a proper apology from him."Â
âIâm warning you, do notââ
âSukunaaaa. She is waiting for a proper apology from you.â
Sukuna stares murderously down at his lower half. Heâs finally met his match. The only âenemyâ that he canât silence by force. Himself.Â
And secretly, you think that he slightly enjoys that youâre speaking with his stomach mouth. It shows him that despite this silent treatment, you still desire some form of communication with him.Â
So heâll put up with the teasing, the inside jokes, and the fact that his wife is being stolen by his own body.
You decide to press your luck a little bit further, and say something you know will send your husband over the edge. âMiddle Mouthââ
âNot again,â Sukuna groans, tossing his head back.
âDo you remember what I told you? What we talked about last night?â
âWhat?!?" Sukuna demands, sitting up abruptly and sending the covers around him flying.
âOh, I remember,â his maw says, immediately grinning and playing into it.Â
âWell, I was thinking about it andââ
âWhy are you speaking with my wife at night?â
âOur wife. And what we discuss during late hours does not concern you.âÂ
âAnyways, as I was telling you, Middle Mouth, before I was rudely interruptedââ
âNo. This ends now."
In seconds, Sukunaâs beside you, all 7 feet of him towering over you intimidatingly. He rubs a hand across his jaw, like he has to physically force the words out of his mouth. âI.. apologize for not answering when you asked me which of my cocks I urinate from.â
ââŚâ
âThe answer is both of them.â
Immediately, your mood lifts. You turn away from the window, smiling and facing your husband like nothing was ever wrong. âApology accepted.â And then to his stomach mouth, âWeâll continue our conversation later.âÂ
a/n: idk why the mouth is referring to him in third person...js to be annoying ig lol
Sypnosis: After a horrible night of going out, your friend leaves you stranded at the club. Going home, you encounter a certain white-haired man. When he gets too close and grins with those too-sharp teeth, you do the only logical thing your drunken mind can think of: throw a bag of rice at him.
Pairing: Vampire!Gojo x Human!reader
Tags/Content Warnings: MDNI/18+ only, SMUT SMUT SMUT!!! Porn with plot, a bit of fear play (c'mon, Satoru is a vampire, y'all have seen the way he was playing with those curses), compulsion (only to run away), usage of folklore, reader is lowk a dumb bitch (not bimbo like, just drunk), blood-drinking, dub-con (reader consenting to be bitten while drunk), oral (f receiving), unprotected P in V sex, classic 'it doesn't fit' trope, SIZE KINK SIZE KINK SIZE KINK, belly bulging, dacryphilia, permission to cum inside (hehe)
Word Count: 6.7k
A/N: Not proofread since I have a migraine, but I wanted to drop this before going to bed. Special thanks to @cactusvolumes for helping out <3 Dividers by @/pixopix & @/strangergraphic, art by @/somedeimi on x.
Youâre stumbling out of the club, absolutely wasted. The world spins around you, pavement dipping to the side, despite it being flat. Your ankle rolls once, making you almost crash into a pole.
A laugh bubbles out of your throat before you can stop it. It vibrates on your tongue, just like the bass vibrated your bones while inside the club.
Why are you laughing again?
You fumble through your purse for your phone, trying to text your friend that' youâre outside. Fingers touching different things in your purseâa lipgloss, a loose tampon, your hairbrush, a bag that crinkles when the pads of your fingers skim over it, and finally your phone, the glass smooth against your fingertips.
Then the thought slams into you, unwelcome and sharp. âNaoya and I are dating now,â your friend had whispered shouted in your ear while you were on the dancefloor with her. Your entire body locking up, hips freezing in place.
Right. Thatâs why you drank more than you shouldâve. Your friend casually admitting sheâs dating your piece-of-shit ex-boyfriend.
You lean your forehead against the cold metal of the pole. Another laugh slips out. This time dry and hollow. Thereâs nothing funny about any of this. The entire situation is fucked up.
She left the club not soon after she admitted to you about dating your ex, not satisfied with your reaction to her ânewsâ. What a fucking bitch. You close your eyes, still leaning against the pole, and everything spins, as if youâre laundry in a dryer.
Opening your eyes you push off the pole. Taking three steps, you stumble again. Stupid fucking heels. With an annoyed grunt you crouch down to yank them off, only to promptly fall onto your ass. Huffing through your nose you sit down so you can better access your heels.
Eventually you wrangle the heels off. Standing again you brush down the back of your dress with one hand while the other dangles your shoes from your fingers.
This time you start walking homeâstill stumbling around, but no longer rolling your ankles with it.
The Tokyo streets glow with sodium lamps and neon signs that are blinking overhead. The streets are mostly empty, aside from a few stragglers and drunks passed out along the sidewalk.
It isnât until ten minutes into your walk that you feel itâeyes. You glance around, confused. Thereâs no one you can see, just a small cat on the other side of the street that isnât even watching you, finding more interest in itâs own paw. Shrugging you keep walking.
Five minutes later you cut into a narrow alley. A shortcut home you normally take after a night out with the girls, granted they are with youâsafety in numbers or something. Your drunken mind isnât really concerned with that right now, though. Your feet are cold, small stones digging into your toes where youâre walking, and youâre lucky you havenât encountered something sharp yet.
A little bit further into the dark alley you feel it again, that heavy sense of being watched. Whipping your head around you see someone stand at the end of the alleyway. The personâs silhouette completely black, except for the stark white hair thatâs illuminated by the streetlight from above. The second thing you note is how tall they are. And the third thing you notice is the eyesâtheyâre glowing. Piercing blue looking over at you.
Heâs just⌠staring at you. But when he sees you looking at him, he takes a step towards you. Then another. And another. You back up, pointing a finger at him.
âStay there!â you bark out, finger trembling slightly. âStay,â you repeat, firmer. The man halts, one pale eyebrow lifting in amusement.
âThatâs right. Good boy.â If you were sober, youâd cringe at calling a stranger good boy, but right now all you can think of is that youâre drunk, barefoot, in an alley, and this guy is, whatâseven feet tall?
His face becomes clearer now, a bit of moonlight illuminating some of the planes of his face. His skin is porcelain-like, eyes like a kaleidoscope of every blue imaginable, and a smirk is on his face, clearly enjoying this entire interaction.
Right, youâre staring. You clear your throat. âI-Iâm going now. You just⌠stay there.â
He only crosses his arms and leans against the wall, still watching. You slowly nod your head, taking a small step back. Okay, good, heâs staying right where he is. Where you told him to stay. Turning around you nearly scream bloody murder.
Heâs right there.
A gasp slips from your lips, mouth dropping open while your eyes bug out of your skull. Did the alcohol in your system fuck you up so bad you somehow turned around slow enough for him to walk in front of you without you noticing it?
You crane your neck up to look at him, stumbling back slightly with the change of your head, before you steady yourself again. Heâs smiling down at you, and itâs a nice smile, honestly. It wouldâve been charming, if not for the fangs. Theyâre long, sharp, and very obvious.
Alarm bells blare in your head, muffled slightly by the badum badum badum of your heart in your ears. Impossibly blue eyes, inhuman speed, and now fangs.
âVampire,â you whisper, voice barely audible.
The strangerâs smile widens. âDing, ding, ding, sweetheart.â
You swallow hard, of course this would happen to you today out of all days, after being told your friend is fucking your ex and leaving you stranded, alone, in the club.
Your hand slips into your bag, fingers fumbling, digging, trying to search for the bag you had touched earlier that night. But the more you keep fumbling, the harder your heart is starting to beat. Did you make up the fact that you had the bag with you? He notices the motion, of course he does.
âOh? Gonna pepper spray me? Call a friend?â thereâs clear amusement in his voice, âNewsflash, sweetheart, Iâm way too fast for that.â
Your fingers keep searching. Come on, come on, come onâ There. The pads of your fingers skim over the plastic bag, and it crinkles under the motion. Bingo.
Your heart slams against your ribcage. God, please let that dumb folklore be right. You grab the bag an dump it onto the ground, a soft thud sounds through the alley as thousands of rice grains scatter across the tiles.
The vampireâs head snaps down. He stares for a few seconds, blinks, then crouches. He mutters something under his breath and begins to count, fastâreally fucking fast.
You stare at this seven-foot, hulking creature for a few more seconds. Then you take one step back, and another, and another. Then you run, feet pounding against the floor down the alley.
You risk a glance over your shoulder, just hoping he isnât fast enough to count all of that within seconds. Big mistake. Heâs still counting, luckily. But⌠he looks kind of cute doing it, nevermind the part where heâs a seven-foot vampire.
You slow down, feet coming to a halt, before you turn back and walk up just enough to grab your phone from where it fell onto the ground.
Click.
He doesnât look up, but the twitch of his fingers tell you he heard it. âCute.â
Gojo has never seen something like this before. He didnât expect to be pelted with grains of rice by a cute drunk girl heâd set his sights on the moment she stumbled out of the club. Worse, he has the compelling urge to count them all. He isnât sure why, all he knows is that he has to count them.
Itâs something heâll look into when he gets home.
It was a smart move on your part, clearly having read some sort of vampire lore beforeâunless you throw rice at every creep you encounter. However you came back, feet still bare, one of your heels lay abandoned further down the alleyway.
Then you whispered something about how cute he was, as if he isnât a whole seven feet of vampire.
Now? Now youâre sitting across from him, feet still bare and dirty with grime and small pebbles stuck to your toesâhow you havenât noticed is beyond himâheel danling from your fingers, and your dress is riding up your thighs.
Youâre mumbling incoherently about your ex and your friend, not that heâs paying attention to it, all his focus is on the stupid grains of rice.
He isnât sure why you arenât running. You know heâs a vampire, having seen his speed, his fangs, his eyesâhell, you even whispered it, vampire. Yet youâre still sitting here, in front of him, as if youâre keeping him company.
He knows youâre drunk, he can smell it on your breath, and if that wasnât the dead giveaway then the stumbling and walking back to a fucking vampire would be. No one would do that shit when theyâre sober.
Youâre recounting a story about your ex now, gesturing wildly into the cool night-air. Heâs had to restart his count a total of three times already because you keep distracting him. The first time you accidentally kicked the pile when you went to sit down, apologising to him for fucking it up.
The second time you âaccidentallyâ smacked his arm when telling him something. Youâd said it was accidental because you were gesturing, but he thinks itâs because he wasnât paying attention to your story.
He can only hope that the third time just works out for him, because he really wants to sink his fangs into your glistening skinâapart from the sweat youâd certainly built up in the club thereâs something else to it, maybe a shimmer youâd applied before leaving for the club earlier today.
He only has a few hundred grains of rice left when your phone rings. And just like anything else tonight, you pick it up without any hesitation.
Gojo can hear a man on the other side of the line, saying something snarky. He isnât tuned into the conversation, but his ears could hear everything if he wanted to, but heâs still counting, and heâd rather focus on that and finally feed himself than listen to whatever is being said by you or the man.
3124 3125 3126 3127⌠Heâs about to count the last grain of rice when you suddenly flip the phone to him, screen illuminating his skin in a mix of blue and green. 3159 grains of rice, all counted.
He finally looks up and sees a guy filling your screen. Faux blond hair with green roots, brown eyes, and a smirk on his face that quickly morphs into something else. Then you turn your phone back to yourself, slurring out a, âSee, âm with someone. Now leave mâ alone, asshole.â
Gojo hears the call disconnect, sees the way your screen goes dark. The only light illuminating your skin now is the pale moonlight. Then you take a deep breath and promptly fling yourself backward onto the ground.
âSee what I have to deal with?â your eyes find his, a small pout formed on your face while your brows furrow. Gojo doesnât say anything, just looks at you with those piercing blue eyes. He crosses his arms over his chest and clears his throat. âIâm gonna give you a twenty-second head start, sweetheart. If I were you Iâd take it.â
Your brows furrow in confusion this time, nose crinkling slightly. God, you really forgot, didnât you?
He heaves a sigh and opens his mouth just enough to show his fangs. They glint in the moonlight, showing of just how sharp they are. You squint your eyes a bit, then they open wide again.
âVampire,â you whisper again, voice fully trembling. But then you groan, it rumbles through your chest a bit, and kick your feet a little. âI donâ wanna runnnn.â
Gojo has to close his eyes for a second and take a deep breath. He likes the chase that comes from when people are afraid of him. Likes it even more when his prey think they can outrun him. They canât, but he sure does like having them believe they can. Blood always tastes sweeter when thereâs a hint of fear involved, after all.
He opens his eyes again and looks straight at you. Then he leans in a little, breath just shy of ghosting the shell of your ear.
âRun,â he whispers, voice sticky sweet as honey. He can see the way your eyes gloss over a bit. Then youâre scrambling upward, and dart out of the alleyâyour other heel clattering to the ground.
Gojo, true to his word, waits a full twenty seconds. Then heâs in front of you again, making you yelp and dash away again, stumbling over your own feet a little, crashing into the wall, scraping your hand on the rough stones.
The cat and mouse game continues for what he thinks is a full ten minutes. He can hear your heart pounding, blood rushing through your body, and your whispers of âPlease donât kill me, Iâm way too hotâ and âI shouldâve stayed homeâ and âHe is kinda cute, though.â
He ignores that last one.
It isnât until you stumble up the steps of a house where he catches you. His broad chest pressed to your back, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, fingers dipping into your sides,, while the other is planted next to your head on the door.
âGotcha,â he whispers into your hair. Youâre trembling in his grip, knees almost buckling out form under you. Youâre pressed flat against the front door of your house.
You were so close, all you had to do was open it and you wouldâve been fine.
You can feel the way his pecs are squished against your back. Heâs hunched over you, entire frame leaning down so he can nose against your hair. His muscles are bulging out of his shirt, making you press your thighs together.
Itâs a weird mixture of fear and arousal thatâs shooting through you. You know heâs a vampire, know he can kill you in an instantâand maybe he will drain you of all your bloodâbut heâs also so tall. His entire hand splayed out over your tummy now.
He chuckles when he notices the way youâre pressing your thighs together. His cold breath fanning over your skin, almost like a night breeze caressing your face. âYou gonna let me in, sweets?â
You know you shouldnât. Know you should try to get out of his cold, undead grip as fast as you can. The door is right there, one step and youâd be free of him. One big step, youâd just have to get out of his grasp. Sure he has bulging muscles and probably inhuman strength, but you can twist your way out of this, canât you? Just do a little shimmy and free yourself.
The big hand thatâs on your stomach canât possibly keep you right there, pressed against him, can it? Nevermind the fact that he has such thick forearms and biceps and triceps even Greek Gods would be jealous of.
Turning a bit to the left, you try to see if you have any wiggle room, only for him to chuckle once more. His fingers dig into your flesh a bit harder now, indenting the skin where he touches you. Welp, there goes your plan, straight out the window.
âPromise not to kill me?â You donât dare to look at him, afraid his eyes will put you under a spell yet again. You know you shouldâve ran the first time he told you to, but you were too out of your mind to fully grasp the situation. âMhmm, just want some of your blood.â
That seems⌠reasonable enough. You fumble with your keys slightly, still trembling in your grip, the keys and keychains clinking against each other. Itâs the only sound in the entire street, everyone else already being in bedâwhich is no surprise, considering you left the club at⌠three or something like that.
When you finally slot your keys into the hole, you twist it open, pushing the door open to your dark hallway.
Youâre about to set a foot into your house when the guy tugs you back against his chest. âArenât you forgetting something?â
Right, heâs a vampire and not just some random hookup you dragged home. A very handsome vampire, though. If youâre going out, at least itâs by a hottie. Oh fuck, he really can just kill you. I mean, he just said he wouldnât, but he can lie about it. Then again, he couldâve killed you ten times over already.
âWhatâs your name?â That seems to catch him off-guard. Blinking a few times, those baby blues looking you over in wonder a few times, and you canât help but melt into him a bitâonly for you to stand up straight again when you feel how fucking cold he is.
âSatoru,â is all he mumbles out, fangs poking out slightly. He really is cute for a terrifying creature.
Nodding your head you nudge the door open even further, extending your hand into your house with a flourish. âCome in, Satoru.â
The next second youâre picked up before he all but throws you onto your couch, your body bouncing a bit before heâs on you. A yelp leaves your lips, heart pounding out of your ribs, fingers shaking slightly, breaths heavy.
Right, he is a vampire with inhuman speed and strength. Your pupils dilate a bit, hairs standing on edge when he grins down at you with those too-sharp canines. His eyes almost seem to glow in this moment, face shadowed completely.
Youâre frozen in place, reality settling in like someone poured a cold cup of water over your head to sober you up.
You just invited a vampire into your house. To drink your blood. Way to fucking go.
âReady, sweets?â He murmurs down at you, picking up your hand where it lies limp beside you on the couch, pulse hammering in your ears. He brings your fingers up to his mouth, before wrapping his lips around the bloodied appendages, tongue laving over the wounds there. Youâd honestly forgotten you even had themâtoo busy running away from him to notice just how scratched up your clammy palms were.
His saliva stings your skin, making you pull away, only for him to hold your wrist in place. He licks a broad stripe from your palms up to your fingers, leaving behind a red trailâblood and saliva mixed together.
When you donât answer he grins a bit wider, lips slightly red by your blood. âDonât worry, Iâll take care of you.â
With that he surges forward, one strong arm wrapping around your waist to keep you from squirming while the other quickly brushes away the hairs that are falling over your shoulder. His fangs puncture your skin just above your collarbone, and it feels like your nerves are on fire.
Your mouth opens in a scream, only to have it clamped shut by a big palm. Tears spring to your eyes, fat drops falling down the apples of your cheeks before they drip from your jawline onto the couch below.
You can feel the way your blood is leaving you. Satoru is sucking on the wound hard enough to make your eyes roll to the back of your skullânot in pleasure, but in pain. Pure agony running through your veins now.
From all the vampire lore, you whished the aphrodisiac bite was at least true. But instead of pleasure surging through you, itâs pain. Pure pain. You can feel the way your body jerks from the sensation, but Satoru just tightens his hold onto you, pushing you further into the couch.
The last thing you see before the dark takes ahold of you is the blue glow emitting from his eyes, casting the two of you in a soft, blue glare, making his pale hair stand out against the darkness of the room.
You wake up surrounded by softness. Blinking a few times you register just where you areâyour own bed. Your pillow is soft and fluffy under your head, and your blanket is keeping you warm. Your head is absolutely pounding, a dull thud behind your eyes making you groan.
Just how much did you have to drink last night?
Thinking back on the night before, you can remember bits and pieces. You went out with your friend to celebrate⌠something, only for her to leave you alone at the club later that night.
Why did she leave you alone again?
Racking your brain, you try to fill in the gaps as good as you can. You remember drinking and dancing. Hips moving to the beatâwell you tried to, but you probably were off-beat if youâre going to be honestâwhile your friend was laughing with you.
Then she leaned forward with a smile on her face and murmured something in your ear. What the fuck did she say that she had to leave?
You furrow your brows, closing your eyes once more. Right, right, itâs coming all back to you now. She told you she was dating Naoya out of all people. Even after youâd told her every minute detail about that scumbag, she still chose to be with him, destroying your trust in the process.
Fucking bitch. And then she just up and left you there to get home by yourself.
Okay, now you know why your head is poundingâhaving drank waayyy too much alcohol to at least have a good night by yourself. But how did you get home?
You pat around your bed to search for your phone, twisting your neck to look to your left side, only for a hiss to leave your lips when you feel just how much your neck hurts. Your hand shoots to the spot, only to find gauze under your fingertips.
Gauze? Why is there gauze on your neck out of all places.
You rub your head with your other hand, only to feel small scabs on your fingertips. Opening your eyes you look at your hand, only to see it being scabbed over at some places.
Right, you scratched your hand on the wall when running away from that cute vampire. âŚWait, what??
Sitting up you look around your room, to hopefully see said vampire, but heâs nowhere to be found. A laugh bubbles up in your chest and leaves your lips. A vampire, how stupid is that. Your drunken mind probably made all of that up.
Seeing a weird silhouette in an alleyway sure is scary, so you just began to run back home. Yeah, yeah that must be it. Your drunken mind having conjured up a whole story about a guy that doesnât exist. Vampires arenât real; theyâre just myths made up to scare children.
So why is there gauze on your collarbone?
Your head is pounding all the same, these silly questions surely can wait until after you had some water, or coffee.
Standing up youâre about to walk downstairs when you hear someone⌠humming? Your shoulders immediately tense up, feet planting themselves in their place. Why is there someone in your house?
Grabbing the nearest objectâa vase with fake flowers, because nowadays itâs too much to ask guys to get you some flowersâyou tiptoe down the stairs, careful to not make a sound. Itâs one thing if thereâs someone in your house, itâs another when they know youâre there.
On the last step you hear someone call out to you. âOh, youâre awake. Thatâs good!â
You nearly drop the vase in shock, fingers slipping slightly, before you tighten your grip again. Your heart hammering out of your chest, goosebumps littering your skin, and before you can even do anything, a tall, white-haired man walks into view.
And suddenly everything from last night slams back into you. No, your mind hadnât simply made up Satoru, itâs real. The gauze on your throat a bitter reminder that there are, in fact, vampires roaming the earth.
âWhat the fuck are you still doing in my house?â you ask him, setting the vase down onto your kitchen counter before walking up to him. You poke your finger against his arm, testing to see if he really is real, or if you might still be drunk. âYouâre real, right?â
Gojo just chuckles at you, his fangs poking through his lips at your question. His fingers wrap themselves around your wristâice cold to the touch, making you tremble slightly from just how cold they areâstopping you from poking him any further.
âDuh, you canât make up a face this pretty.â He gestures to his face with a small pout on his face. Okay, conceited much. You scrunch your nose up at that, looking him dead in the eyeâthe same eyes that glowed last night while he was feasting on you - is that the correct term? Youâre not sure, but you donât really care, either.
âAs for your question, I stayed because I mightâve drained you a bit too much. The alcohol in your system made your blood thinner, so I had a harder time gauging just how much I drank. So I stayed to be certain you wouldnât pass awaâ anyway. Alcohol makes your blood taste bitter, by the way, Certainly didnât help you werenât as afraid as I wanted you to be,â he mumbles that last part under his breath.
âNot as afraid as you wanted me to be? I thought my heart was gonna crawl out of my mouthâ can you let go of me? Youâre cold as fuck,â you try to tug your wrist out of his grasp, only for him to tighten it just slightly, slender fingers enclosing around your wrist.
Grinning he leans down slightly, back hunched just slightly as he looks you in the eye. âWhy? You didnât seem to mind me touching you last night.â
You inhale sharply, the memory of him pressed against your back flooding your mind. His strong chest pressed against your back while his hand was splayed out over your tummy making you all hot and botheredâ no, you canât think like this, fucking stop it.
âYeah, well, that was just me being drunk,â you mumble out.
He takes a step forward, and another, while you walk backwards, until your back hits the wall. The wall scratching your back slightly, straightening your spine. His hand plants itself next to your head, leaning forward until his nose is almost brushing yours. âYou sure thatâs all it was? Iâm hurt, sweets. Youâre saying you donât find me cute anymore?â
Gulping you press your thighs together, your panties damp under your sleeping shorts, core hot and achy. Thereâs no denying heâs hotânot quite cute as you called him last nightâbut should you really do this? Heâs a vampire, hot, sure, but still a bloodsucking creature. His grin widens when his eyes flick down to your thighs.
You know you shouldnât do this. Itâs irresponsible, downright stupid, but you canât deny to yourself that heâs making you horny by just existing.
And suddenly a thought enters your mind, like someone whispered in your ear. Your friendânow ex-friendâis dating your ex. It makes your stomach flip a few times, trying to make sense of the situation youâre in right now.
Fuck it.
Your hands find his pecs that are flexed with the way heâs standing, fabric doing little to hide them. Your finger trails down to his abdomen where you can feel the clearly built muscles. You bat your lashes at him, tilting your head just slightly. âAnd what if I said I thought you were hot?â
âThen Iâd ask to have another tasteâ a different taste this time,â he murmurs down at you. Thatâs all you needed, fisting the fabric of his shirt and pulling him down to meet you. Lips crashing against each other in a messy battle of teeth and tongue.
He groans into your mouth, carefully nipping at your lower lip, puncturing it slightly. He sucks on the little droplets of blood before he claims your mouth once more. Copper filling your taste buds, making you moan out slightly.
Then he suddenly picks you up, hands under your thighs while yours find purchase at his broad shoulders, clutching onto them, nails digging into his skin just slightly. He chuckles against your mouth, âIâm not going to drop you.â
And true to his word, he doesnât drop you, but he does bring you upstairs at speeds youâve never dreamed of having. He carefully lays you down onto the bed, matrass groaning under both your weight just slightly.
His lips disconnect from yours, and he has to keep himself from groaning out at the sight of your bloodied, kiss-bitten lips. All swollen for him. Gojo peppers featherlight kisses down your throat, until they find the gauze just above your collarbone.
Yelping you look down at him. Heâs grinning up at you, blue eyes crinkling slightly while he carefully places another kiss onto the gauze. âThat hurts, dickhead.â
âHmmm, just showing my little blood bag some appreciation,â he purrs before his lips trail further down, all the way until heâs seated onto the floor, cold breath ghosting on your thighs, leaving behind slight goosebumps. âIâm not your personal blood bag.â
He just winks up at you before pressing a kiss to the fat of your thigh. Then one a little higher, another one to the apex of your thigh, and one on your hipbone. Youâre squirming out at the feeling of his lipsâcold to the touch, but oh so careful.
His fingers hook around your pajama shorts, looking up at you for permission. When you nod he pulls them off you, leaving you in your panties. His pupils dilate when they see the wet spot, âYouâre soaked. All this for me?â
Rolling your eyes you look down at him, leaning on your elbows. âHow about you touch me instead of being such a concâ oh fuck,â your head lolls back onto your shoulderblades, eyes fluttering shut slightly. His thumb presses onto your clit.
âWhat was that, sweetheart?â he chuckles when you moan out at the pressure he applies through your panties, thumb circling your twitchy clit. âThatâs what I thought.â
He leans down to lick a broad stripe over your panties, moaning out at the taste of youâso sweet, and oh, how he wishes you werenât drunk last night so he couldâve had a taste of this pussy earlierâlips wrapping around your nub and sucking on it slightly.
âShit. Fuckâ Satoru, right there,â your hand finds his head, fingers threading through his silky locks, pulling on them slightly when he sucks even harder, cheeks hollowing out. Pleasure shoots right through your core, thighs threatening to snap shut. Something that doesnât go unnoticed by the white-haired man under you, big palms clasping your thighs and keeping them spread riiight open for him. âJust get those panties out of the way already!â
He releases his lips with a pop, making you sigh out. Grinning up at you, one of his fingers comes up to your swollen folds, rubbing them slightlyâstill with that damn fabric in the way.
âSomeoneâs eager. You want me to get rid of these cute panties?â He tilts his head slightly before his fingers creep further upwards,, until they hook into them, making you think heâs finally going to get them off you. Instead he pulls the fabric upward, stretching it over your poor twitchy cunt, âBut they look so good on youâ yeahhh look at that.â
His eyes are zeroed in on where the fabric disappears between your pussy lips slightly, stretching the fabric even further until youâre pushing at his head, whining out.
âPlease, please just get them off,â you whine out, tears gathering in your eyes from the way heâs just playing with you, taking his sweet time while your hole is pulsing around nothing. He chuckles once more before letting the fabric snap! against your skin, having you gasp out.
âGuess I should give this pretty pussy what she deserves, huh?â He gives a few taps to your clit, thighs twitching with each pass of his fingers, before he finally hooks a finger around the gusset and pulls it aside, revealing your cunt to the open air.
Without any preamble he dives in, tongue flat against your twitchy clit. Your back immediately arches with the swipe of his tongueâthis time without any fabric between the muscle and your aching clit.
One of his slender, cold fingers plunges itself into your soppy hole. Your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging on it slightly, moaning out at the intrusion. âFuckâ right there.â
He thrusts his finger in and out of you before adding another one. The cold touch such a stark contrast to your hot, needy core it has you keen out. Your legs are trembling in his hold, one of them still spread open by his other hand, while your own creeps down to hold your other leg open for him.
âSuch a good girl,â he mumbles out against your core, pleasure shooting through you. He curls those long digits inside of you, trying to find that one spot inside of you while he very lightly nips on your clit, your walls clamping down on his digits. His fingers keep thrusting and curling inside of you, finding finding findiâ you loudly moan into the air, head thrown back. Found it.
âF-fuck, Satoru, keep them there âm so close,â you sob out, thighs tensing up slightly while he continuously hits your g-spot with perfect precision. Your orgasm crashes over you, tiny fireworks exploding in your tummy. âCummingâ cumming.â
He stays down there, lapping up the slick thatâs gushing out of you. Cold tongue dipping into your hole alongside his fingers, opening you up even further for him.
You go limp in his hold a minute later, and he finally detaches himself from your moundâlips shiny with spit and your arousal. Then he pulls his fingers from your hole, stringy juices webbing between his fingers when he spreads them, looking at them in wonder, before putting them in his mouth and moaning out at the sweet, sweet taste thatâs you.
âThink youâre ready for me, baby?â He stands up already unbuckling his belt, and you have to swallow once you see his bulge. Fuck. Heâs ginormous. You shouldnât be surprised, this guy is seven-feet tall, everything about him is enormous compared to you, but still you canât help the way your eyes are almost bulging out of your skull.
He pulls out his cockâangry, red tip swollen and glistening with preâand wraps his fist around it, giving it a few tugs.
âThatâs not gonna fit inside of me,â you blurt out, eyes transfixed on where his hand is still wrapped around his dick. He smirks at that, of course he does. Heâs probably heard it a million times before, but of course you had to say it.
He leans forward, tip nudging your clit, coating himself in your arousal. âRelax, itâs gonna fit.â
Gulping you lay back slightly, opening your legs even further to accommodate him. He smiles at that, one hand clamping around your waist while the other guides his member towards your entrance. Taking a deep breath in, he pushes inside your fluttering walls.
A high-pitched moan leaves your lips, sweat breaking on your skin. The stretch is unbelievableâyour walls fluttering uselessly around him, and this was just the tip. He hisses at the feeling of your walls clamping down on himâyes, actually hisses, fangs on full display. âFuck, loosen up baby.â
His fingers come down to your sensitive clit, rubbing on it to keep you distracted from the intrusionânot that it helps. He pushes another inch inside of you, and tears are starting to spill down from your eyes, disappearing into your hairline.
Gojo looks at you, blue eyes almost completely black now. He can feel the way his dick twitches when he sees your tears. Leaning forward he balances on one forearm, tongue lapping up your tears, groaning at the salty taste of your tears.
âYouâre too big,â you squeal, hand uselessly pushing against his abdomen. He merely presses a kiss to your cheek, then to the corner of your mouth, and finally his lips claim yours, tongue tracing the seam of your sealed lips.
He stays still like that for a little while, letting you get used to the way heâs stretching you out. When he feels you loosen up slightly he pulls his hips back until just his tip remains and pushes back in again, a bit further this time.
You moan out into his mouth, legs wrapping themselves around his waist, and your hands entangle themselves in his hair. âThatâs it, knew you could do it.â
With a few more thrusts he finally bottoms out, his hips meeting yours. Tears are flowing free down your face and he has to resist the urge to just bite you with how cute you looked. Fuck, what he wouldnât do to get a taste of you againâyour blood surely much sweeter now.
He looks down, only to grin. Would you look at that. âLook down, sweetheart. See how well youâre taking me?â he grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger and angles your head down. Blinking a few times you look down andâoh! The print of his cock fully visible, bulging your tummy where heâs buried.
âYouâre so deep,â you mumble out, slight awe in your voice, only for a broken moan to leave your lips seconds later. Gojo pulls out and thrusts back in, tip smooching your cervix. Again. And again. And again.
A creamy ring starting to circle around his base, balls slapping against your ass with each harsh thrust. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, leaving behind crescent shaped marks. Youâre sobbing out into his neck, vision blurring slightly.
âMhmm, I know.â He presses down onto your stomach where he can feel his own cock through your womb, and it has you keen out even more. Moans and groans and the lewd plap plap plap! of his hips fill the room.
Your legs begin to tremble, cock plummeting in and out of your soppy hole, the squelch it makes has your face heat up, a pretty blush forming on your face as you feel yourself near your second orgasm. After a few more thrusts, you come around him, clear liquid gushing out of you, spraying onto his abdomen, thighs and the sheets below you. Your vision whites out completely while your back arches, mouth forming an âoâ that you canât seem to close.
Satoru hisses when he feels your walls clamp down onto his girth, speeding up his thrusts slightly. âFuck, lemme cum inside, please.â
Your mind doesnât register his request at first, too busy trembling around him. Itâs only when he starts whining that you take note of his request. âYes, yes âtoru. âS okay.â
âShit- need you to say it. Say it out loud for me, pretty,â he pleads with you, his own thighs tensing up slightly. âY-you can cum inside, Sâtoru.â
Thatâs all it takes. He thrusts once more before stilling, his fat tip snug against your cervix while he spills inside of you. Ropes of cum keep coming, emptying his balls inside your greedy cunt completely. His forehead dropping down to yours.
The two of you lay there for a few moments, trying to catch your breathâwell, itâs just you who has to catch their breath, but Satoru stays there for youâand calm down slightly.
âSoooo, you need permission to cum inside too, huh?â you giggle at the seven-foot vampire. He just groans, eyes fluttering shut. âShut up.â
Genre: fantasy!au, demon!au, haunted apartment, horror (its not too bad bc im a coward guys), slow burn, forced proximity, supernatural romance, angst.
Summary: Jungkook is trapped in an attic, cursed to win affection from those who fear him most. Every tenant has fled until you move in. With your budget and patience on the line, you refuse to leave. Now youâre stuck sharing a space with a creature no priest, shaman, or exorcist can get rid of, and neither of you can escape.
Warnings: NSFW (yes yall you read that correctly), mentions of wanting to die, supernatural themes, slow burn, forced proximity, mild language.
Word count: 13k..... sorry not sorry yall
a/n: i love this chapter, writing it was so fun 𤊠so i hope you guys enjoy this chapter too!! only good things ahead, i hope đ¤ OH just another thing, i have an assignment i need to finish so chapter 16 might not be out until i submit that assignment đ
check out my: masterlist | banner creds to: vzzartt
The East Citadel of Kratos, one governed by the Kim, operates differently from the North.
Where the Jeon citadel was built on mountaintops, where itâs cold and quiet, the Kim territory was built on a more desert-like area and it runs on information and gossip. Every corridor, every house, and every room in the East have ears in it and every visitor who crosses into Kim territory did so knowing that the moment they set foot inside its borders, the Kim already knew things about them.
Seokjin was prepared for this.
The Demon who owed him the favor, Aria, was old and powerful enough in the East that it was easy for Seokjin to get clearance from the East exterior checkpoints. A Demon prince walking around outside of his territory is calling for trouble. So, Seokjin spent the past couple of days trying to mask his energy so that it wouldnât be as recognisable.Â
Seokjin did not go to the Kim citadel itself.Â
The city surrounding it was where Seokjin needed to be.
East Kratos, like all parts of Kratos, does not only own a single fortress or main citadel, there are smaller fortresses and villages around it. These districts of villages where Seokjin is walking towards, are built up outside the citadel walls where Demons with lower rankings or bloodline lived.Â
Seokjin walked in the East with his core energy pulled inward to not attract attention. He was walking towards the residence of Eris whose address he extracted from Aria.
When Seokjin finally reached just outside of the house, he looked around, taking in his surroundings. The house was unremarkable, almost run down on the outside, which meant Eris must have specific reasons for wanting to be overlooked as she was not of lower ranking, not until the incident that is.Â
Seokjin knocked once, and even before he took his hand off the door, it opened. Eris was waiting right near her door, she sensed the Demon walking towards her house from metres away, and it has truly been awhile since she sensed a non-Kim Demon energy.Â
She looked at him for exactly one second, before her expression changed to disgust and disappointment, "Ugh," Eris said, "it's the wrong brother."
Seokjin took a good look at Eris.
She was exactly as he remembered from the last time their paths crossed before the incident where she tried to kill Jungkook and Jophiel. Erin has pale skin, long black hair, and a small cross tattooed on the center of her forehead as mockery to The Ancient One, and while most Demons had eyes with veins across it, her eyes were nothing but white.Â
Seokjin smiled at the one crazy weapon he needed, "You could invite me in?â
"I could also close the door," she said in amusement.
 "You could," Seokjin agreed, "but you won't, not until you hear what I have to say."
Eris studied him for some time, her white eyes moving over him, assessing what Seokjin was looking for and whatever it was he actually wanted under whatever he might claim to want. Then she stepped aside to let Seokjin enter her humble abode.Â
The interior of the house was exactly what Seokjin expected from her: excessive and tacky. From this alone, Seokjin could tell that Eris is still hung up on his brother. Because the Eris from back then, the Demon she was before she went rogue, was a Demon woman who could pick any Demon in Kratos and have them head over heels for her, she even had that angel, Jophiel, kissing her ground.Â
"Give me your little brother," Eris demanded, standing by the windows with her arms folded.
Seokjin sat in the chair right across where Eris was standing without being invited to, "That's actually why I'm here."
"Is it?" Eris said, tilting her head as she batted her eyelashes at him.Â
"I can help you get him," Seokjin restated.
Eris looked at him before laughing, "Oh yes? And how exactly are you going to do that? You cursed your brother to earth, he's been stuck there for hundreds of years," she tilted her head, âare you going to send me there too?"
Seokjin opened his mouth, stopped, and then closed it again, "Huh," Seokjin said quietly, "why didn't I think of that?"
"Because," Eris said giggling, "you are the dumb brother."
The smile dropped from Seokjin's face and his energy, which he has been keeping carefully controlled since he entered Kim territory, pressed outward slightly before he pulled it back again, if Seokjin lost control, he would lose all his progress.
Seokjin held Erisâ gaze for a few minutes, clenching his jaw, before finally exhaling slowly through his nose. Seokjin has to be the bigger Demon here, he has to be patient for this to work.Â
The woman in front of him is nothing, doesnât even have a high rank anymore after she went uncontrollable.
"What if I told you," Seokjin said, his voice a little bit higher to show her that he is an accomplice, though it took him visible effort to do this, "that he is no longer on earth?"
Eris said nothing.
"What if I told you," Seokjin continued, "that the curse was broken? That Jungkook is back in the North Citadel, right now, as we speak?"
Still nothing from Eris, but her posture changed, very slightly, but Seokjin has been reading Demons his entire life and he caught it.
"And," Seokjin added, keeping his voice entirely casual about it, "he has a woman beside him now."
The silence that followed was different from the ones before it.Â
Eris turned her head towards the window, her arms were folded against her chest tightly. To be told that her supposed-to-be "lover" was back and reachable again, Eris would be lying to say she wasnât excited, "You're lying," she said.
"You know I'm not," Seokjin replied.
And Seokjin was right, Eris knew he was not lying, because she could sense that he wasnât. Seokjin was telling the truth, and she knew it. Although every Demon believed she went rogue, Eris is still very much capable of doing anything she wants. She was and still is one of the most intelligent Demons from the East.Â
Eris turned her head back to look at him, and her expression turned colder and much more dangerous, before demanding more from the Demon prince in front of her, "Tell me more."
"She was a human girl," Seokjin said, and he purposefully slowed down when saying the word human, "not even a Demon. Well, she is now, sheâs a human turned Demon. She was born a human, she lived a human life, and she managed to break a curse that was designed to be unbreakable."
"How does it feel?â Seokjin continued, muttering his next words slowly for Eris to clearly hear it, "to know that you, a pure Demon, a Demon with centuries of power behind you, could not get Jungkook's attention? But a mere human girl could?"
The silence that stretched out after that sentence was the longest one yet since Seokjin came into her house.
Eris did not look at Seokjin.
Her gaze stayed fixed on the wall behind Seokjin, her jaw clenched so tightly she was prepared for it to break, "Tell me more," she demanded once again of the Demon prince.
"I went to the land of the necromancers," Seokjin started.
Eris raised her eyebrows, she didnât know whether to see Seokjin as an impressive or idiotic Demon. Necromancers live in the most isolated realm, a tough one to get into. The land of the necromancers was not designed for living creatures to easily walk through. A creature would have to be desperate to seek out a necromancer as reaching their realm alone was a gamble with death.
"That," Eris said slowly, "was not an easy trip, was it?â
"The necromancer's realm is known for that," Seokjin confirmed.
"How long did it take you to find them?" Eris asked curiously.
"That is not relevant," Seokjin said.
"It took you a long time,â Eris smirked.
"I said it's not relevant," Seokjin said as he shot her a glare that Eris just brushed off.
"I guess you succeeded then," Eris said, "clearly, I mean, you're here."
"The necromancer was," Seokjin added, "persuaded."
"Necromancers are not persuaded easily," Eris said as she studied him again, reading everything he wasn't saying which was the more interesting part of the conversation.
"No," Seokjin smiled, âthey do not."
"How many did you have to get through before you found the one who would help you?" she asked.
"Ten," he replied.
Eris lets out a giggle, "The dumb brother who walked into necromancer territory alone, past ten of them who refused to help him, actually came out to the other side successfully."
"I told you," Seokjin said, visibly angry and annoyed, "I am not the dumb brother.â
"You are absolutely the dumb brother," Eris said, rolling her eyes before adding, "but you are also, very apparently, the stubborn one. Oh well, explain whatever you received from the necromancer," Eris said, settling into the chair across from him, "how it works, what it costs, and what the limits are."
âThe magic will allow you to borrow energy and appearance from a dead Demon from the North, her name was Ymir. She was a lower-rank soldier, and she was not significant enough to be widely known, as long as you do not visit the villages in the most eastern part of North Kratos, no Demon will know who you are. She was born in the North which means her energy carries the territorial imprint. So with this dark magic, the founding energy of the North will see you as Ymir,â Seokjin explained.
Seokjin took a small breath before continuing his explaination, "The necromancer's dark magic works in layers. Think of it like an armour placed over your energy rather than your body. Your actual energy will still be there underneath Ymirâs energy. The beauty of this magic is that it will make any other Demon see you as Ymir from the North Citadel."
Eris absorbed this new information rather quickly, "So you want me to pretend to be Ymir and do what exactly?â
âBefriend ____,â Seokjin replied, âand once she trusts you, I want you to take her to me.â
Eris stared at him in disbelief, âYou want me to go into the North Citadel as Ymir and make friends with the human girl.â
"The former human," Seokjin said.
"That distinction is not the part I'm questioning," Eris responded.
Seokjin leaned back against his seat slightly, "Think about her situation. She arrived in the North against her will, she knows almost no one. The Demons in the North have made it clear that she is not welcome within it, they call her impure and they refuse to associate with her, and the only protection she has is Jungkook's name over her head which, given that she is currently furious at Jungkook, is a protection she probably resents needing."
Eris said nothing to that, expecting more information out of Seokjin.Â
"She also has an angel who visits when his obligations allow," Seokjin continued, "and Woojin, who is loyal to Jungkook before he is anything else. That is her entire world in Kratos. A being in that position, newly turned, grieving everything she lost, isolated in a citadel that despises her existence, when a Demon approaches her with warmth and no personal agenda, she will want to trust you. She won't be able to help herself, it's just in the human instinct she still carries and will carry for a very long time."
"An angel?" she questioned.
"Yes," Seokjin said.
"Which angel?" Eris asked. As a Kim, she had a feeling of which angel it would be. She knows only Jophiel can easily enter and exit the North. But she wanted to hear it from Seokjinâs mouth, she wanted to hear the confirmation from him.
âJophiel,â Seokjin smiled, before adding, âhe has been visiting her every day.â
âSo," Eris said, very quietly, "she has Jungkook."
"Yes," Seokjin nodded.
"And Jophiel," Eris continued.
"It would appear so," Seokjin replied with a smile.
âHow do you know all of this if you have been on the run?â Eris asked suspiciously.Â
âI have someone inside. A Demon who has served in the citadel long enough that no other Demon will be suspicious of him. I have been building this for longer than you might expect. I understood that if I ever needed to move against the North from the outside, I would need eyes on the inside."
"Who is it?" Eris asked.
"That," Seokjin said, smiling, "is not something I'm going to tell you."
Eris observed the Demon prince in front of her, "And this demon tells you everything."
"Yes," Seokjin said, âthe political movements happening after my betrayal became known, the reaction to the human girl's presence, what Woojin is doing, what the King is doing, what Jungkook himself is doing on any given day."
Eris believed Seokjin, he had no reason to lie to her. But the most pressing matter to her now is that a human has the two creatures she used to be with.
"Both of them," Eris snapped, "a formerly human Demon who has existed for less than a month, has managed to have both of them wrapped around her fingers?â
Seokjin said nothing, he understood that this was not a moment that required his input.
"I want her gone from the North," Eris said, and the words came out very clearly, "I want her gone from Jungkook, and I want her gone from Jophiel, and I want it done before she spends another day sitting in a room in my citadel having both of the things that are mine."
"Then we understand each other perfectly," Seokjin said, âbut Eris, I do not want you to kill her until we reel Jungkook into the camp.â
âWhat camp?â Eris asked, a clear confusion across her face.Â
Seokjin settled back, he had the look of a Demon who was excited to tell another being about a plan he had been building, a plan he was proud of, "I have been in the Lee territory," Seokjin said, "for the past several years, building something."
Eris stared at him, "You have been living in Lee territory?"
"Well near it," Seokjin said, "there is a stretch of land on the border between the North and the South, disputed territory that neither citadel has formally claimed in several generations because the cost of holding it has never been worth the effort. I have been living there with my followers."
"The Lee and the Jeon have never had a mutual understanding," Eris said carefully, âin the entire recorded history of Kratos."
"No," Seokjin agreed, âwhich is why no one will be looking for me there."
The Lee citadel was the largest army in Kratos. They are aggressive, territorial, and has a grudge against the North that predated most living Demons.
"Doesn't the Lee wants the North weakened?" Eris asked slowly.
"The Lee have always wanted the North weakened," Seokjin said, âI simply gave them a reason to want it now and a plan for how to achieve it."
"You're going to war with the North," Eris said, finally grasping what Seokjin isn't saying directly.
"I'm going to correct a problem that has been building for a very long time," Seokjin replied, "The Lee have numbers. I have knowledge of the North's interior, its weaknesses, its points of access, and a Demon inside its walls who can tell me exactly where everyone will be on any given day. Together, those things are sufficient."
"Sufficient for what exactly?" Eris said.
"To kill Jungkook," Seokjin said plainly, âand the King."
"Both of them?" Eris asked.
"Yes, I need both of them dead," Seokjin confirmed, âkilling Jungkook alone solves nothing. The King would simply rebuild the North, appoint a successor, and the North would continue. The throne requires the King's death and Jungkook's."
"And then you take the throne?" Eris asked.
"And then I take the throne," Seokjin replied, âyes."
Eris was quiet for a few seconds before telling Seokjin her opinion, "The North will not accept you after this. You are a traitor to the citadel. You cursed the second prince and you allied with the Lee, the Northâs biggest enemy. There is not a demon in the North who would bend a knee to you after all of that."
"There are always demons who will bend a knee to whoever is standing when the fighting stops," Seokjin said, âIs that not the oldest truth in Kratos? Loyalty follows power, not history. The whole Kratos has always known that. It is written into the founding law of every citadel, any Demon strong enough to take the throne has the right to hold it. Bloodline means nothing if someone stronger challenges it successfully."
"So you plan to simply walk in after Jungkook and the King are dead and claim it by right of conquest?" Eris said.
âYes,â Seokjin simply said.
Eris let out a small sigh, "The Lee will want something in return for this."
"The Lee wants territory," Seokjin said, âspecifically the southern border of the North and I have agreed to cede it once the throne is mine."
"The North will never accept that either," Eris said, "giving a territory to the Lee after a war? You will spend the entirety of your reign managing uprisings from your own citadel."
"Managing uprisings is considerably easier than not having a throne to manage them from," Seokjin replied flatly.
"You have been building toward this since before you cursed him," Eris stated.
"I have been building toward this since I understood that my father would never name me heir. That regardless of what I did or how powerful I became, the King has already decided. Jungkook was his choice from the very beginning and everything I did was always going to be insufficient because the decision was never actually about capability."
Eris did not know what to say to that.
"The girl," Seokjin continued, returning his voice to its usual register, "is the key that will take Jungkook out of the North. He will have his army with him to save her, and when he is away with soldiers, that is when I will attack the North. So, ____ is the one variable that guarantees Jungkook moves when I need him to move. And that is why I can not have you kill ____ before Jungkook attacks."
"And after," Eris said, âonce she has served that purpose, what will you do then?"
"That is entirely outside my interest. The throne is what I want. What happens to a formerly human Demon is not a problem I intend to spend any time on," Seokjin replied.
Eris nodded slowly, before looking at him directly and said, "If this works and you take the North. The Lee will not stay contained to the border territory you promised them, you know that."
"I know that," Seokjin agreed.
"Managing the Lee from the North throne, after using them to take it, will be the defining challenge of your entire reign," Eris said, âthey are not the kind of army that helps you win a war and then goes home quietly."
"No," Seokjin said, âthey are not."
"And you still think this is worth it?" Eris asked.
"I think," Seokjin answered, "that the North Citadel has been my birthright since before I could walk. I think I have spent my entire existence being told in every subtle way that it would never be mine. And I think that yes, managing the Lee is a significant problem,â Seokjin paused, âbut it is a problem I would very much like to have."
âSo,â Eris said after a long moment of silence, âwhat do I get in return for all of this?â
Seokjin looked at her, "Jungkook."
Eris stared at him, âYou just spent the last few minutes telling me your plan to kill Jungkook."
"I said you get Jungkook," Seokjin repeated, âI didn't specify whether he would be alive or dead."
"That is not an answer," Eris said flatly.
"You go into the North as Ymir," Seokjin sighed before continuing, "you befriend the girl, you take her to the camp on day six, and Jungkook comes for her. At that point, what happens to him is between you and me and the Lee army."
âYou want him dead," Eris said.
"I need him removed from the equation," Seokjin said carefully, âthose are not always the same thing."
Eris narrowed her eyes, "You're offering me Jungkook as a reward while simultaneously planning to kill him, those two things cannot both be true at once."
"Can't they?" Seokjin said.
"No," Eris said, her white eyes fixed on him, âthey cannot, either he is dead or he is mine. Pick one."
"What I need," Seokjin finally replied, "is for Jungkook to not be on the North throne. I need him to be unable to challenge me. I need him to not be a problem.â
âIâll lock him up somewhere,â Eris replied, âor Iâm not doing this at all.â
âIt would be better for me if he was dead,â Seokjin stated, âa dead Jungkook cannot escape, cannot be freed by an angel or by some other variable I failed to account for.â
âI know ways to lock him up, if you give him to me I will help you pretend being Ymir, if not then I will not do this at all,â Eris threatened.Â
Keeping Jungkook alive was a variable Seokjin did not plan for. He thought Jungkook would just be a ticking bomb that could explode if he was just imprisoned somewhere.
Seokjin approached Eris thinking she would have wanted Jungkook dead as well. But Eris was the only piece on the board who could walk into the North as someone else, and she has the personal motivation to do this, especially with Jungkook and Jophiel, the two men she used to own, now wrapped around a human girl. Seokjin could always correct the ending later, once the throne was his and Eris has served her purpose.
Seokjin sighed before finally agreeing, âFine. But, I will have to see whatever you will be doing to him to ensure he wonât escape.â
Eris observed Seokjin after he finished speaking, there was something in her realisation that was not admiration but was closer to it than she wanted to admit. Then Eris said, "You do know that every King of Kratos can see what is happening within their own territory."
Seokjin said nothing to that, letting Eris continue.
"Who enters," Eris continued, "and who exits the territory. The founding energy of each citadel feeds directly into its King. Your father sits on that throne and the North tells him everything,â Eris tilted her head, her white eyes fixed on him, "How do you know he is not already on you? How do you know he hasn't been watching every single thing you have been building from the moment you left?"
"Oh, I know he is on me," Seokjin said simply without an ounce of fear.
Eris blinked at his confession, "You know?"
"I know he is watching," Seokjin said, "I know he is aware that I have followers. My father has never been someone who misses things, I am not foolish enough to believe I have been invisible to him."
"Then," Eris said slowly, "you are building a war camp on the border of the North's territory with a following of some Demons, and your father, the King who can see everything within his territory, knows about you and you are still here?â
"Yes," Seokjin said.
"Why hasn't he moved against you already?" Eris asked.
"Because," Seokjin said, "what he does not know is that the Lee is backing me. He can see my camp and my followers. But the Leeâs involvement is hidden behind their own territorial energy. The Lee and I never meet on the same ground. Every communication, every negotiation, and every agreement between myself and the Lee has happened with them standing on their side of border territory and me standing on the North. We are always in separate territories when we speak, the Lee on the Southern side of the line, while my followers and I on the Northern side of the line."
Seokjin smiled proudly before continuing, âMy father knows I am a threat, but he does not know how large the threat actually is.â
"Your father does not just sense activity within his territory," Eris replied carefully, "you know that. Your father sees what is coming, not just what is happening now, but what will happen. That is not the same thing as being one step behind you."
Seokjin went quiet.
"So I will ask you again," Eris continued, "why has he not moved against you already? And this time, do not tell me it is because he cannot see the Lee's involvement. Your father sees the future, Seokjin. If this ends badly for you, he has already seen it."
"My father's sight is not like The Ancient One's," Seokjin said, "he does not see all futures. He reads the threads connected to his bloodline and his territory. He can sense when something threatens the bloodline. But the Lee exists outside that thread and I exist outside that thread now. I burned that connection."
Eris considered that, "So he is blind to you specifically?"
"Not blind," Seokjin said, "just limited. He can see what is coming but not the full picture of how it is happening, and maybe," Seokjin said slowly, "the futures where he stops me are not futures he can win either."
"You think he has seen every version of this," Eris said, "and the one he chose to allow is this one."
"I think," Seokjin replied, "that a King who can see futures and still does nothing is not a King who missed something. He is a King who looked at every possible outcome and decided that the ones where he intervenes end worse than the ones where he does not."
Eris said nothing to that, which was, for Eris, basically an admission that she had no counter argument, then, she let out a small laugh, "This plan is either the smartest thing I have heard in decades," she said, "or the most catastrophically insane."
"Am I not the dumb brother anymore?" he added.
Eris looked at him for a long moment, her white eyes moving over his face, reassessing the Demon in front of her, "You are," she said finally, "either the dumbest Demon currently alive in Kratos, or the craziest one."
Jophiel, on your thirteenth day of your second life in Kratos, arrived on a rather late morning, or at least what passed as a morning in this Hell hole.
You were standing in front of the mirror, head tilted slightly, as if trying to make sense of the person looking back at you. Your eyes moved over the clothes Woojin gave you, a loose white blouse with the sleeves rolled to your elbows, tucked into a dark brown leather corset and dark trousers. It seemed to be the fashion sense in Kratos, the Demons all wore clothes that are more made for movement than comfort.
You still werenât entirely sure how you felt about it. The clothes fit well and the corset wasn't entirely uncomfortable. But they werenât yours. You looked at your reflection for another moment, before finally looking away.
To Jophiel, this was progress. You looking at yourself in the mirror at all was progress. But he did not mention it out loud, Jophiel knew better than to draw attention to it. He knew if he called out your progress, you would only feel bad about moving on with your new life.Â
Jophiel came into your room carrying two things.
One was a stack of books, which you already expected because he has been bringing human books to you, but the stack today was higher than usual, there were six books instead of the usual two, and your face brightens up just from seeing them and you couldnât help the huge smile already forming on your face.Â
The other thing he was carrying was a small container, with a blue and pink label, and was clearly earth-based because nothing in Kratos, at least from what you have seen so far, came in packaging like that.
You stood there in shock, "Is that⌠is that what I think it is?" you questioned.
"Baskin Robbins," Jophiel confirmed as he nodded, and he set the tub on the desk near your bed, he felt proud of himself for getting the human dessert.
You walked over to the desk, grabbed the tub of ice cream, turned it over in your hands and read the flavour label, Strawberry Cheesecake.Â
"How did you get this?" you asked, your eyes gleaming with excitement.
"I stopped by earth before coming here," Jophiel said, sitting on the edge of the bed, "there is a Baskin Robbins near your place,â Jophiel smiled at you.
You looked up at him, clearing your throat, "You went to my neighbourhood?"
"I did," Jophiel said, "I also walked past the school, and the children are doing well, for what it's worth. And I saw your friends too, they seemed to be doing well."
For a moment, you said nothing. Your fingers tightened slightly around the ice cream tub, and you looked down at it instead of looking at Jophiel. The mention of your old neighbourhood felt warm and painful at the same time.
âThank you!â you said, a little too brightly. The excitement was real, but so was the ache underneath it. For one brief second, you could see it all again, the streets, the school, the faces you used to know, and the life that continued without you.
"They gave me some spoons, I put it somewhere in my coat pocket," Jophiel said, trying to distract your mind that was about to spiral, as he reached into his coat and took out two plastic spoons with the Baskin Robbins logo on them.
You opened the container and took out one of the spoons, handing one to Jophiel just as the door to your room opened. You did not need to look to know who it was, you knew it was Woojin.
He comes every day around this time with your lunch tray, though he never steps inside. He only opens the door for a few inches, placing the tray near the door, and leaves without a word. It has become routine by now, predictable enough that you knew it was him.
"Woojin!" you called out.
"Yes?" Woojin's voice came through the gap of the door.
"Come in," you said.
Then the door pushed open, and Woojin appeared in the doorway. His eyes went first to Jophiel, then to you, and then, very slowly, to the opened container of ice cream between you and Jophiel.
"Sit down," you said, gesturing to the chair near the bed.
"What is that?" Woojin asks as heâs walking towards where you and Jophiel are.Â
"Ice cream," you answered excitedly, âitâs a dessert from Earth and itâs strawberry cheesecake flavored."
"Ice? Is it cold food?" Woojin asked in confusion.Â
"Yes, it is cold," you replied, âthatâs the point."
You held out your spoon to Woojin, wanting him to try it first before you, "You're having some."
Woojin looked at the spoon and saw Jophiel, who was sitting next to you, visibly enjoying Woojinâs suffering, "I do not require food," Woojin stated.
"Mhmm.. I know," you said, âbut you're having it anyway."
From beside you, Jophiel let out a small laugh and did a terrible job pretending it was a cough.
Woojin then sat directly across from you and Jophiel, he clearly did not agree to participate in whatever this was, but he was outpowered by social pressure, especially by the angel.
You pushed the container towards him and Woojin looked at it for a long moment before finally scooping up a small portion. He held the spoon in front of his face, observing the ice cream. Woojinâs expression was grim, but he put it in his mouth anyway.
"Well?" you asked.
Woojin was quiet for a moment, his tail, which has been still since he entered the room, began moving very slightly, "It isâŚ." Woojin said carefully, "not unpleasant."
"High praise," Jophiel said, which earned himself a look from Woojin that would have made most Demons take several large steps backward, but Jophiel appeared entirely unbothered.
"It's very cold," Woojin said.
"Yes," you said, âhave more."
And Woojin had more, and he was so serious about it that it made you want to laugh.
Jophiel and Woojin had a few more spoonfuls of ice cream, before handing it back to you to enjoy. Once you were done with it, you set the empty container on the side table and leaned back against the headboard of the enormous bed.
"Jophiel," you said.
"Yes," Jophiel replied.
"The books you brought me" you said, âdid you pick them?"
"Of course I picked them," he said, feeling a little bit offended by your question, âdo you think I would just grab anything?"
Woojin, who was standing up to excuse himself, was stopped by your question, "What do you read, Woojin?" you asked Woojin.
Woojin stood there as he answered, "War histories, accounts of how specific battles were decided and what the deciding factors were."
"Boring," you scrunched your face.
âNecessary,â Woojin stated.Â
"You read about battles that already happened," you continued, "to prepare for battles that haven't happened yet or even might not happen at all."
"Yes," Woojin said, as if this was obvious.
"Doesn't it get repetitive?" you asked, "battles happen for the same reasons every time, don't they? Someone wants something someone else has."
"The reasons are often the same," Woojin replied, "the outcomes rarely are. The difference is always in the details. Every choice we make before the battle is important and to understand a war, you do not only study who won. You must also study who lost and what led them there, what they misjudged, and what they thought they could afford to lose."
"That," you said slowly, "is actually not a boring answer."
Outside your door, in the corridor, Jungkook has been standing there for forty minutes.Â
He did not plan to stand there for this long. He planned to just walk past your room, go to the training grounds, or to deal with matters Woojin had flagged to him that morning that still needed his attention after returning to the North Citadel.Â
Jungkook planned to be productive and present in all the ways that a prince of the Jeon citadel was supposed to be doing. But instead he was standing in the corridor outside your room listening to you laugh and share an ice cream with his subordinate and an angel.Â
Woojin was slacking off when there were more pressing matters to handle and Jungkook was going to address that later. And Jophiel has been getting too close to you lately, something Jungkook found rather distasteful.Â
He pressed the back of his head against the stone wall and stared at the ceiling.
He heard your laugh again and something in Jungkook's jaw tightened so hard it was practically audible.
Jophiel eventually came out when he sensed Jungkookâs emotions. He took one look at Jungkook and couldnât help the amusement he felt when he saw his old friend.
"Don't," Jungkook said.
"I haven't said anything," Jophiel said.
"You were about to, your face is doing that thing again," Jungkook stated.
"My face is doing nothing," Jophiel said with a smile across his face, âmy face is entirely neutral."
"Your face has never been neutral in your entire existence," Jungkook replied, âyou were built without the ability to have a neutral face, it is one of your most consistent failures."
Jophiel thought about what Jungkook said, "That isâŚ. possibly, true. Huh, I canât argue with that one," he agreed.
They stood in the corridor outside of your room. Jophiel could sense the energy Jungkook was radiating into the space between them, but Jophiel was not particularly bothered by it, which was infuriating to Jungkook.Â
Other creatures would have run in fear.
"Woojin is still in there," Jungkook said.
"Yes," Jophiel agreed, âshe asked him to stay to talk about books about war. He seemed pleased about her curiosity."
Jungkook's jaw clenched.
Jophiel noticed Jungkookâs jealousy and tilted his head in amusement, "You asked me to come here and help her. I am helping her. The goal is for her to be less isolated and more able to function in her new life. I have been doing exactly that. You are standing in the corridor in what I can only describe as a state of personal suffering because she is laughing with someone who is not you.â
"Jophiel," Jungkook warned, "hands off. She is not something you get to.."
"She is my friend," Jophiel said, cutting Jungkook off before he could finish what he was about to say, âshe is a being I have come to care about, and I will not stop visiting her or helping her understand what she is and what she can become, that is not going to change."
Jungkook looked at him with anger.
"And you," Jophiel continued, pointing his finger at the demon prince, "instead of standing in this corridor doing whatever you're currently doing. You should consider whether there is a more useful way to spend your energy."
"I don't need your guidance on what I should do," Jungkook said, defending himself.
"You haven't approached her," Jophiel said, "in the two weeks since you told her what happened," Jophiel continued, and he raised his hand to start counting all Jungkookâs faults on his fingers, which Jungkook found deeply and personally offensive.
"One,â Jophiel said as he raised his index finger, âyou have not once attempted to sit beside her without needing a reason.â
âTwo,â Jophiel said with now two of his fingers in the air, âyou have not apologised in a way that gave her space to respond to you.â
âThree-â
âIf you raise another finger, I will cut it off,â Jungkook said, interrupting Jophiel.
Jophiel lowered his hand and continued with what he was about to say, âOkay, three, you have not tried to understand what ____ actually needs.â
âFour, you have not once gotten down on your knees and beg for forgiveness, which, I will tell you honestly, would go a longer way than you believe."
Jungkook opened his mouth but nothing came out.
"And five you have also," Jophiel sighed before continuing, "been under the impression, for reasons I cannot fully understand, that what _____ wants most right now is for Seokjin to be dead. And while she does want that, it is not the most important thing. It is not even close to the most important thing to her. And you thinking finding your brother and killing him is part of taking care of her is one of the most significant misreadings of humans I have witnessed in several hundreds years, especially one coming from a Demon who spent hundreds of years with humans."
"Shut your mouth," Jungkook growled.
"Am I wrong?" Jophiel asked.
Jungkook said nothing to that.
"She matters to you," Jophiel said quietly, âI know that. But you cannot stand outside a door for two weeks and expect that to be enough. She is not going to come to you. You are going to have to go to her."
Jungkook still did not say anything to Jophiel and just stared at the door.
"Start with âpleaseâ," Jophiel added, âand âsorryâ, humans love good manners."
Then Jophiel walked away down the corridor and left Jungkook standing there.
At night when he was back in his chambers, all Jungkook could think of was you.
This was absurd.
Jungkook was aware that it was absurd that he was just standing outside of your door. He knew what was on the other side of the door. You were in there, probably reading one of the books Jophiel brought, or sitting near the window looking at the red sky.Â
It was absurd that after all the things Jungkook has done in his life, the one thing that he was now unable to do was knock on a door.
This was, objectively, one of the most embarrassing things that has ever happened to him and no creature would ever know about it because he would sooner tear down the entire citadel than admit it out loud.Â
Jungkook clicked his tongue at himself, frustrated at the absurdity of his own behaviour.
It is a very peculiar behaviour indeed.Â
He has been standing outside your door, on and off, for two weeks. He has stood there long enough to learn the pattern of your footsteps across the room, long enough to know which side of the bed you slept.
Jophiel said to start with please and sorry but Jungkook spent two weeks not doing that and even now, after knowing he should be doing that, he is still not doing it.
Jungkook didnât understand what he was so unsure of.
Jungkook just didnât know if he would say the wrong thing, which he has already proven himself capable of, and make it worse. He also didnât know what to do if you told him to leave.
Jungkook was afraid of losing something he did not even have.
He put his hand over his eyes, this was genuinely the most undignified he has ever felt.
He has mastered the seven traits, survived centuries of containment in a room, watched armies fall, and he did all of it without once losing composure. Yet Jungkook just somehow could not knock on a door.
All because on the other side of the door was you.
Fuck this, Jungkook thought to himself.
Jungkook is going to knock on the door, and he is going to say please and sorry, and he is going to sit there and listen to you.Â
Because Jophiel was right, which is something Jungkook will not ever tell him.Â
But Jophiel was right, you needed Jungkook to show up.
He pushed himself off the bed, and started walking towards your room.
It was what passed for night in Kratos, which meant the red sky turned a little darker than itâs state in the âmorningâ.Â
You were reading, Jophiel left hours ago and Woojin had to eventually excuse himself, especially after Jophiel told him that Jungkook is rather pissed at the both of them.
The novel in your hands was from earth. You didnât know why Jophiel picked this one titled, âMen Are from Mars, Women Are from Venusâ but you agreed with the content youâve read so far. Although the book wasnât about fantasy, you couldnât help but wonder how surprised all fantasy genre lovers would be when they realise that everything theyâve read and written are all real.Â
Then you heard a knock on your door.
You already knew who it was. You could sense him through the door, but you just kept on reading, because Jungkook doesnât usually come in and visit you. He probably knocked by mistake.Â
Then the knock came again, but you also heard Jungkook, in a voice so gentle, "May I please come in?"
You stopped reading.Â
You couldnât just ignore his please. So you sighed, closed the book in your hands, and set it on the bed beside you, "Okay," you finally said.
The door opened, and Jungkook entered. He crossed to the couch across from the bed and sat down on it, and then he was quiet, looking at you sitting straight on your bed looking back at him.
You waited for him to say something, anything.
But Jungkook was not saying anything, he was quiet for long enough that you sighed and finally said, "If you don't have anything to say, just leave."
"Don't," Jungkook said quietly, "don't ask me to leave."
He looked down at his thighs, putting his hand over his forehead, covering his eyes so you couldn't see the expression he was making, "Please don't ask me to leave," Jungkook said.
You were taken aback, you didnât know what was happening or what was about to happen. You didnât know exactly what to do or say, so you stayed quiet.Â
"I came because I missed you," Jungkook continued.
You sat up straighter and stared at him across the room, at the way he was sitting with his hand still covering his eyes, like looking at you while saying it was more than he could manage, "I had to see you," Jungkook continued, "I missed you.â
âJust.. just donât ask me to leave,â Jungkook said, almost stuttering.
You did not know what to say, not at all.
Because if Jungkook came in angrily, if he came in with the same composure he put up in the courtyard when you yelled at him, or if he came in with the same cold logic he uses for everything, you could have matched his energy.Â
But this.. he looked so.. sad.
Jophiel said something to you in passing, the day before, âHe's trying to figure himself out.â
You stood up from the bed, crossed the room slowly, and when you reached him you stopped, standing directly in front of where Jungkook was sitting with his hand still over his forehead, still covering his eyes as if he was too afraid to look at you. He didn't move an inch when you stood up, he didnât even look up at you when you stood in front of him.
And then you started crying.
"I've been so alone," you started, "I've been so lonely since I got here. I didn't know anyone, I didn't understand anything about what happened to me or what I am or how any of this works. And the only Demon I knew here, the only Demon I even had any frame of reference for, wasn't trying to help me through it."
Jungkook went completely still, but he finally looked up at you who was standing in front of him.
"I was angry at you," you continued, through the tears, "I am angry at you. But I also wanted you here. I wanted you to come in and say something, anything, even something that is completely wrong, even something that will make me furious, because being furious at you is better than having nobody. But you just stood outside the door."
âYou had Jophiel,â he said, letting his guard down, âI thought he would be better at helping you instead of me.â
âI didnât know Jophiel then,â you snapped, âI know him now. I trust him now. But I didnât then, not like I knew you.â
You laughed through tears, âand you know whatâs the worst part? That somehow, after everything, I still looked for you. I still listened to your footsteps like some pathetic thing hoping the Demon who hurt me would be the one to comfort me.â
âYou are not pathetic,â Jungkook said.
âWell, I asked Jophiel to kill me,â you confessed, your voice breaking at your own confession.
The room went dead silent, Jungkook just stared at you and whatever was left of his composure disappeared, âWhat?â he asked in disbelief.
You pressed your hands against your eyes, "I asked Jophiel to kill me," you said, âthat's how bad it got for me, that's how alone I felt⌠I felt so alone that I asked an Angel, whom I know will never do such a thing, to end my existence because the idea of spending whatever this is without anyone on my side felt worse than not existing."
Jungkook stood up and in one movement, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest.Â
You hated that his arms felt familiar.
You hated that some traitorous part of your body knew him as a safe place even though your mind knew him as the reason you needed safety in the first place.
"I'm sorry," Jungkook said.Â
He said it against the top of your head and then again, "I'm sorry.âÂ
âI'm sorry," he repeated again as he held you and let you cry against his chest.
Jungkook's grip loosened slightly, just enough that he could pull back and look at you, and you looked up at him.Â
Jungkook looked down at you before finally opening up, "It is entirely my fault," he said, "you would not be here, you would not be any of this, if it were not for me."
"You might think that something like me would be brave enough to come to you and say that sooner," Jungkook continued, âbut the past two weeks, I had nothing to say. I felt there was no excuse I could offer you. If I faced you, I wouldn't have known what words to use. So I chose to stand outside your door instead, thinking that being present would be the best thing I could do. Foolishly believing that with enough time it would settle on its own."
Jungkook clenched his jaw, "Isn't that dumb?"
You didn't say anything, letting him finish what he came here to say.
"I completely forgot that you react differently to everything," Jungkook continued, "I forgot to weigh in your feelings, what you would need, what would actually help. Until Jophiel made me understand that what I have been doing was wrong. I didn't just fail to help you. I drove you further into it in that courtyard, and then I left you wounded."
"I know it was all my fault. I'm sorry, I didn't know how to face you,â Jungkook did not know if he wanted to say what he was about to say next, but he realised the only creature he would ever want to know about him was.. you.Â
And Jungkook thought to himself that there was no better time to say it, "I was afraid. If I admitted all of this to you, that Iâm just unable to understand you, I thought I would lose you. I understand now, that it is a very pathetic reason to leave someone alone for two weeks."
You thought it was not possible for a Demon to look.. to feel like this. But Jophiel did tell you that full mastery of the seven traits gave a Demon something that looked like awareness, the ability to feel everything, understand what they were feeling, and decide what to do with it.
Jungkook looked down at you, opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked away from your face, and his eyes were staring at the stone wall behind you. It was as if he needed somewhere else to put his eyes while he gathered whatever he was about to say.
Jungkook has stood in front of armies and walked into rooms knowing every creature in it wanted him dead. Jungkook has never once, in thousands of years of existence, needed to look away from something because it was too much to face directly.
He looked back at you.
You still didn't know what to say, but something you never imagined would happen, happened.Â
Slowly, like each inch cost him something he couldn't name, Jungkook lowered himself to his knees.
"I am still a Demon," he said, from the floor, looking up at you, "I will not change overnight and suddenly understand how humans work. I have spent hundreds of years with humans and I have still not understood even close to everything about how your kind works. I understand only forty percent, at best."
"But I will try," Jungkook said, "I will be here now, if you would like me to be, and I'm sorry."
"I'm still angry," you replied, looking away from his gaze.
"I know," Jungkook nodded.
"I'm going to be angry for a while," you stated.
"That's fair," he said.
âI might want you here and hate you for being here at the same time,â you said again, making sure he understands that your progress wonât be linear.Â
âI can bear that,â Jungkook replied.
"And I'd rather have a company I know," you said finally, "than none."
Jungkook nodded once, he didn't say anything more and you didn't need him to.
You woke up with puffy eyes and a swollen face, you were exhausted from last night.
A lot happened mentally, and there were too many feelings involved. But, after what happened last night, you felt so much better.
Hearing Jungkook finally apologising and actually hearing you out and letting you hear himself out, felt like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders.Â
It was almost cruel yet hilarious, how the person you needed most was also one of the people tangled in the reason you were here in the first place. But Jungkook was not entirely to blame, you knew that much.
But maybe, for some weird reason, you needed someone close enough to aim your anger at. And with Seokjin gone, Jungkook became the nearest person you could blame for all of this.
You washed your face twice, which helped slightly with the puffy eyes, and then stood in the middle of the room trying to decide what to do with the day.Â
On earth, your days were always on some kind of a schedule. During weekdays, you woke up, you had to commute to work, and then you showed up for your students. And on weekends, you either go out to meet your friends or spend the day with your thoughts and hobbies at home.Â
Here, in Kratos, everything is new.Â
You didnât know what there is to do or how the rules and laws are here. But what happened last night finally made you wonder if you could give this place a chance. So last night, before Jungkook left your room, you told him you would take a walk around the citadel in the morning.
Jungkook knocked sometime around morning time, which was really still hard to grasp since the sky never truly changed, on some days the red darkened by a little nearing the evenings, but other days the red colour of the sky just stayed the same. But the citadel operated on some kind of routines that you had begun to absorb without meaning to.
"I can walk with you, if you still want to see more of the citadel,â Jungkook offered.
You thought about it for a moment, "No," you replied, "I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" Jungkook questioned.
"Yes," you said.
You didn't want to be seen walking around in the citadel that already despised you with the prince at your side like you are some weak being that will always need his protection.Â
You saw him nod as he turned around to the door without arguing, which you appreciated more than you expected to.
âEnjoy your walk,â Jungkook said before closing the door behind him.
The citadel was enormous in a way that kept surprising you even after two weeks of living within its walls. You have seen the citadel from the window but walking through it was different. The corridors were carved from the same dark stone as everything else, with its glowing red veins and the ceilings arched high.
You passed some Demon soldiers in the lower halls who looked at you and then looked away. You realised there were different responses that Demons give when they see you. Some of them observed you with their dark eyes, some of them talked about you openly, but none of them approached you.
You found your way outside through a set of doors that opened up onto a wide terrace. From there, you follow a path along the citadelâs outer wall, descending gradually until you reach an open ground overlooking the valley below you.
There was a stone bench near the edge of the overlook, so you sat down on it and looked out.
Below the citadel, you could finally see North Kratos in a way you have never been able to see from within its walls. The land was unfamiliar, dark rock formed with their edges lit by the same glow throughout the citadel.
There were towns below and smaller citadels. Between them, you could see figures, Demons, moving and going about whatever Demons do on an ordinary day.
It was bleak.
The sky above North Kratos is the same red colour ever since you arrived here, casting the land in a dull light that made the dark architecture seem even more unwelcoming to a humanâs eyes. Even the ground around you felt wrong. The grass beneath your feet was black as if this place has drained the world of colour and left only shadow behind.
But, you thought it wasnât that bad.
It wasn't earth. It wasn't the view from your studio window where you used to watch people walking their dogs and arguing on their phones. But it was something, it was a place with lives happening in it.
You sat there for a while with your hands in your lap, just looking at the valley.
You turned around so fast you nearly slid off the stone bench.
The Demon woman standing a few feet behind you was, objectively, beautiful in the way that most demons in Kratos seemed to be, which you were still adjusting yourself to.Â
She was tall, with long dark hair and tanned skin. Her horns were smaller than Jungkook's and from yours too, curving neatly back from her temples. She was smiling at you, widely at that, like running into you was the best thing that has happened to her all day.
Your first instinct was suspicion.
In two weeks of existing in this citadel, not a single Demon smiled at you like that. Well, you werenât out most of these past 2 weeks, but that one time you were outside at the courtyard, most of them looked at you with disgust.Â
You passed one or two who seemed to be neutral, like Woojin, who was not exactly warm but has stopped referring to you as âitâ. But a Demon being openly pleased to see you? That was new, and new things in a place that has been consistently hostile to you is just suspicious.Â
"Yes," you answered, "that's me."
"I'm Ymir," she said as she sat onto the other end of the stone bench, "I've been wanting to meet you."
"Why?" you asked, you couldnât help the expression of confusion across your face.
Ymir tilted her head slightly, as if what she was about to say was an obvious answer, "Because you were brave and you yelled at senior soldiers in the courtyard on your first day here and apparently told the prince he was a cunt."
You opened your mouth to say something, but realised you didnât even know what to say to that.Â
"Everyone knows about it," Ymir continued, "news travels fast in the North, especially news about the former human Demon who walked into the courtyard and started screaming at senior soldiers."
"I wasn't screaming," you said, "I was just defending myself."
Ymir laughed, and you felt something in your shoulders ease slightly against your better judgment.
"Where are you from?" you asked curiously.
"The North, born and raised," she said, "though I come from the lower district and my family has served the Jeon for three generations."
"So you're loyal to the Jeon citadel," you said.
"I'm loyal to the North," Ymir corrected you, and the distinction seemed to matter to her that she was pointing it out.
"I see," you said, it was obvious you were taken aback by her response. Ymir claiming she was loyal to the North and not the Jeon reminded you that whoever is strong enough could just take the throne away from Jungkook's family. You couldn't help but wonder if Woojin felt this way too.
"You know, I have always been curious about humans," Ymir said, continuing the conversation, and she looked genuinely interested in the topic, "the below is not somewhere I have ever visited but I know of it, but earth.. the earth is somewhere I have always wanted to see."
"It's beautiful," you answered, "the colours are more vibrant there. The sky is blue on most days, but sometimes grey when it is about to rain, and even pink or orange at times. There are trees that change colour every season and oceans so large it makes you feel so small.â
You looked out at the valley below you again, before continuing, âAnd earth just feels.. alive. There would be cars passing by, people talking and laughing on the street. Thereâs just always something happening. Someone is late to work, someone is falling in love, someone is crying on a train after losing an important person in their life, and someone is complaining about the weather even when the weather is beautiful.â
You smiled faintly, you didnât mean to talk this much, but Ymir showed genuine curiosity of your home, one you have been missing dearly.
Ymir watched your face as you explained life on earth to her, "What was your life like?" she asked.
It was a question no one in the citadel has asked you. Jophiel listened when you brought things up, but heâs always so cautious with you. Jungkook has never asked, probably because he was a part of it for a while. And Woojin would rather die than engage with something that personal.
"I was a teacher," you replied, "I taught kids how to read and write and how to be a decent human.â
Ymir looked delighted when she found out you were a teacher, and clasped her hands together, "You taught children!â
"Yes" you smiled at her reaction, you have soft spots for people who adore children like you do.
"What were they like?" Ymir asked.
"Very loud," you answered, "but they are honest in a way that most adults are afraid to be. They would tell you if they didn't like what you were wearing. They will believe anything you tell them, they will trust you completely, and their trust wasâŚ" you stopped, "it was the best thing I have ever been responsible for."
After a few seconds of silence, Ymir looked into your eyes with a gaze so genuine and said, "I'm sorryâŚ. that you lost it."
You nodded, looking at Ymir who has been kind to you, and couldnât help but ask her, "Why are you being kind to me? Because in my two weeks here, not one Demon in this citadel has voluntarily sat down next to me and asked me about my life."
"Truthfully, because I was curious," Ymir answered, "and because the way everyone in the citadel has been treating you bothers me. You didn't choose to come here, you didn't choose any of this. And the idea that you should be punished for not being born in the North when you didn't even choose to become a Demon in the first place seems wrong to me."
"Even though I'm not pure blood," you said.
"Yes," Ymir confirmed, "and I will tell you something else, being pure blood is not a measurement all Demons care about."
You looked at Ymir, trying to analyse her again. Ymir is still a demon in a place you do not entirely trust. The suspicion you have of her has not left you, but by the way she was acting towards you, you were beginning to think she might not be so cruel. She asked you about your life on earth, your students, and she even said sorry for something she wasnât responsible for.
"What is North Kratos actually like?" you asked, "not the citadel, down there," you nodded towards the valley, "what happens in the towns?"
Ymir's face lit up again, "That is a much better question than most visitors ask," she said, "most of them only want to know about the citadel and the soldiers. The towns are where everything actually happens. The trades, disputes, and gossip. You can learn more about how the North actually runs from spending a day in the lower districts than from a month in the citadel halls."
"Have you spent time there?" you asked.
"I grew up there," she said, "I know every district. I know which ones have the best food, which ones to avoid after dark, and which ones will pretend you don't exist if you ask for help."
You looked at her for some time before looking back out at the valley.
"Would you want to?" Ymir asked, "see it, I mean. I could take you tomorrow, if you wanted. I could show you around the lower districts."
Every reasonable part of you said to be careful.Â
You have only been in Kratos for two weeks, you didn't know this Demon, you didn't know her loyalties or her reasons, and you were already carrying enough things on your shoulders and you shouldnât add another thing you couldn't trust fully.
But you were also so so tired of your room.Â
You were tired of the same walls, looking at the same too-high of a ceiling, and the same red sky through the same window. You were tired of existing in a space that you have been put into rather than one you have chosen by yourself.
So against your better judgement, you agreed, "Okay," you said to Ymir.
Ymir smiled, "Good," she replied as she stood up to leave, "I'll find you in the morning."
Jungkook came to your room that night the same way he did the night before, with a single knock.Â
You were already in bed, not sleeping, just laying there with one of the books Jophiel brought you laid open on your chest and your eyes fixed on the ceiling. You have been thinking about the valley, about Ymir, and how the towns below the citadel looked like.
"Come in," you said.
He entered and made his way to the couch across from your bed, "How was it?" he asked as he sat down on the couch, "your first day out."
You thought about it for a few seconds, "It was.. strange," you said, "but good strange. The valley is beautiful, I didn't expect that from Kratos."
"The North has always been considered the harshest, yet most beautiful territory,â Jungkook said proudly.
"Iâve never seen the other territories, but I canât lie that the North is beautiful," you agreed.
You went silent for a few seconds, debating if you should tell him about Ymir. But then you felt like it was something worth mentioning, "I met someone today. A demon woman, she came when she saw me sitting alone, sat next to me, and talked to me as well."
Jungkook looked at you, "Who?"
"She said her name was Ymir," you said, "she asked about my life on earth and about my students too."
Something shifted in Jungkook's expression, he seemed suspicious of your new friend, "Ymir," he repeated.
"Do you know her?" you asked.
"She's in one of the lower battalions," he replied, "a weak one."
You rolled your eyes at him, "Jungkook, I don't care what battalion she's in."
"I'm just telling you what I know of her," he said.
"She was the first demon in this entire citadel to sit down next to me and kind enough to ask me something about my life," you defended, "the first one who wasn't you, Jophiel, or Woojin. So I genuinely don't care what battalion she's in."
Jungkook's jaw tightened slightly at the mention of his two friends, "Speaking of which," he said, "Woojin has been kind to you."
"Woojin brings me food every day, which you ordered him to do, and he occasionally tolerates my presence," you said, "that's not the same thing as being kind."
"And me? Iâm not kind to you?" Jungkook asked, "I don't count?"
You looked at him across the room, "You're different."
"How?"
You didn't answer him, mostly because the answer was complicated in ways you weren't ready to say out loud, "She asked if she could show me around the lower districts tomorrow," you said instead, "I said yes."
Jungkook went very still, "Don't," he said.
You raised your eyebrows, "Don't what?"
"Don't go," Jungkook said, "not with her."
"Why not?" you asked.
"Because I don't know her well enough," he said, "and you don't know her at all."
"I knew you for longer before I trusted you," you said, "and look how that turned out."
Jungkook sighed before answering, "That's fair, but I'm asking you to trust me on this one."
"You're not asking me," you said, "you're telling me what to do."
"I'm asking you," he said again in a deeper voice, which meant Jungkook was dead serious, "just don't go tomorrow. Give it more time."
"She was kind to me," you said, sitting up straighter on your bed, "she was the first demon here who treated me like a normal being and I'm not going to refuse that because you have a âfeelingâ"
"It's not a feeling," Jungkook said, "it is an instinct, and my instinct in the North has kept me alive for longer than you believe."
You threw the blanket off your legs, stood up from the bed, and walked towards Jungkook, and following your actions, Jungkook stood up from the sofa as well.
You stopped close enough that you had to tilt your head slightly to look up at him and held his gaze without flinching.
"You never fucking listen to me," your voice cracked as you jabbed a finger toward his chest, stepping even closer to him, "you think you can just control everything I do, everything I am."
"Maybe if you just stop this for five seconds so I could get a word in," Jungkook said, defending himself.
Your finger pressed harder against his chest, and said angrily, âNo Jungkook, you should listen to me. I have done enough listening!âÂ
Jungkook caught your wrist, his fingers wrapped around it and the sudden contact silenced you from talking even more. For a second, the both of you just stared at each other.
âGet your hand off me,â you snarled, trying to yank your hand free, but Jungkookâs grip only tightened.
"No,â his voice was even lower, it was almost a growl. Jungkook pulled you forward, closing the last inch between the two of you until your chest is now finally brushing his, âYou want to fight? Fine, letâs fight."
"Let go of me," you repeated, but your voice lost its edge, because his face was too close and the cold radiating off his skin was doing something to your thoughts that made you resent yourself deeply.
"Make me," Jungkook said, almost a whisper.
You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could, his other hand came up to your jaw, tilting your face up, and whatever you were about to say disappeared from your train of thoughts entirely.
His eyes were on yours, "You want to be so angry at me," he continued quietly, "go ahead."
âĄâââ Start of NSFW ââââĄ
Then Jungkook kissed you.
It wasn't gentle. His lips were demanding from the first second it touched yours, his grip on your wrist pulling you closer against him until there was no space left between your bodies.
And you kissed him back. You hated that you kissed him back immediately, without hesitation, without even a full second of resistance. Your free hand found the front of his shirt and grabbed it to pull him closer.
You bit his lower lip, which had Jungkook let out a groan. The kiss deepened and your legs hit the edge of the bed without either of you noticing you had moved from standing near the couch to now at the edge of your bed.
âYouâre such an asshole,â you panted against his mouth.
He looked at you with a smirk across his face, âThis is what you wanted right? You wanted me to shut you up.â
"You're so infuriating, I wanted you to listen," you said against his mouth before pulling him closer for another desperate kiss. Jungkook shoved you onto the bed and before you could straighten yourself on it, he put his weight on you, pinning you down.Â
You could feel his hard cock through his trousers, making your pussy clench. You could feel the wetness in your underwear despite the anger you felt towards him. And the way Jungkook was staring down at you, the way he was breathing with his chest rising and falling rapidly, it sent you wild and crazy.Â
You needed him.Â
With one hand, Jungkook grabbed at the collar of your shirt with force, causing the buttons to pop-out and your breasts exposed to the cold air, almost ripping your blouse in the process.
He bit down on your breast, sucking hard, using his teeth to play with your nipple until you arched your back in pleasure, and a cry escaped your mouth.Â
âYou're enjoying this,â he whispered, as his lips brushed against your chest, âyou love being treated like this.â
âShut up,â you hissed at him, but your hands were already in his hair, pulling him closer, pushing his face harder into your breast.Â
He bit your nipple enough to let another loud moan out of you, and enough to have you start moving your hips against his.
Jungkook pulled himself back to yank his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Then his hands were on the waistband of your trousers as you lifted your hips to help him drag them down along with your panties.Â
"Look at you," Jungkook said with a deeper voice, staring at your legs spread wide in front of him, "so fucking wet. You have been waiting for my cock havenât you?"
You couldnât help and spread your legs wider as he said it, it was an invitation you couldnât deny, "Don't flatter yourself," you said.Â
Jungkook smirked again and you wanted to slap it off his face, but then you saw him unbuckling his belt, and not long after, his big cock sprang free and you noticed its head already slick with pre-cum.Â
Jungkook stroked himself three times, with his eyes locked on yours, and you felt your pussy clench at the beautiful sight in front of you. Seeing Jungkook touching himself in front of you was a scene you never knew could be this hot.
Jungkook leaned over you, one hand bracing on the bed beside your head, the other guiding his cock to the entrance of your pussy. Jungkook didn't ask or warn you, he just thrusted his full length into your wet pussy in one single thrust. You let out a loud moan, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he filled you inch by inch.Â
You clenched around his cock, drawing a groan from Jungkook, âFuck,â Jungkook moaned out, pressing his forehead against yours and his eyes looking into yours.
"Youâre so fucking tight, like you were made for my fucking cock,â he moaned against your ear, making you cry out in pleasure.
âFuck me," you demanded, "stop talking and fuck me with your big cock."
Jungkook let out a deep laugh as he pulled out almost all the way before slamming his cock back into your pussy. The impact shocked you, and the bed was now creaking loudly beneath the two of you. He was fucking you with a pace so fast and hard that each thrust drove you up the mattress. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even deeper into you.Â
Jungkook lowered his mouth to your neck, biting and sucking, leaving hickeys all over it. While your nails were leaving marks on his back. He then fondled your breasts with one hand, before lowering his head to suck on your nipples, and leaving even more hickeys around your chest now.
"Harder, please, Jungkook," you panted.Â
Jungkook cut you off by slamming his mouth onto yours, his tongue thrusting in time with his cock. You sucked on his tongue, lightly bit it, and tasted his blood, which you found must be a turn on for Jungkook as he thrusted into you even harder than before, and each thrust drove you towards pleasure you never imagined.
His massive cock filled you so completely, every inch of him hitting your sensitive spots, which sent shockwaves of pleasure throughout your whole body. Your breasts were bouncing freely in front of Jungkook and the sight of you under him was one Jungkook wished to see for the rest of his life.Â
You felt your orgasm building up, "Don't stop," you begged, âdon't you dare stop, Jungkook," you moaned out his name.
"Come for me," he growled, hearing his name out of your mouth, âcome on my cock, now."
You tried to hold back, but your body betrayed you. It was all too much and you couldnât hold your cum any longer. You cried out as your pussy clenched his cock and you whimpered his name into his ear as you come all over his cock.Â
But just like your first time with him, Jungkook was far from done.Â
The sheets were now all tangled up beneath you, damp with sweat of hours Jungkook spent fucking you until you've orgasmed four times. You were utterly wrecked by how good he fucked you that your pussy was still twitching after.
Jungkook didnât give you a moment to recover, the sight of you snapped his control again. The heat radiating off your skin was just so intoxicating. Jungkook gripped your breasts as he moved his body closer to your face, squeezing your breasts softly, before pushing them together and sliding his hard cock between your breasts.
He thrusted forward, groaning as his cock pushed up between your breasts. Jungkook fucked your tits as you looked up at him with your tongue hanging out of your mouth, begging to lick the tip of his cock.Â
How needy you looked for his cock was what drove Jungkook to his orgasm. Jungkook removed his hard cock from between your tits, and said, âOpen your mouth.â
He shoved his cock into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat in one ruthless thrust. You couldnât help but gagged as he gripped your head with both of his hands and fucked your mouth the way he fucked your pussy.Â
Jungkook buried his cock deep inside your mouth as he shot his cum down your throat, forcing you to swallow each and every single one of it.
âĄâââ End of NSFW ââââĄ
You laid there, breathlessly, but you remembered something. You and Jungkook were fighting until the both of you decided to fuck each others brains out.Â
"I'm still going tomorrow," you said, slightly breathless.
Jungkook let out a quiet sigh, "I know," he said before continuing, âIâll have someone follow you. Just listen to me for once. I just want you to be careful. That is all I want, because if something happened to you I would not recover from it."
Jungkook got dressed quietly and slipped out of your room while you were asleep. He stood in the corridor for a moment longer than necessary before finally walking away.
Woojin was waiting at the bottom of the staircase, "The King is asking for you," Woojin said.
Jungkook just nodded at him before walking towards the Kingâs study.
The King's study sat at one of the highest points of the North tower, he was seated behind the wide stone desk when Jungkook entered, not looking up from the documents in his hands.Â
Jungkook stood across from him and waited for The King to address him.
After a few minutes, the King looked up and a small smirk formed across his face, "I see you had fun with the former human?" The King asked.
Jungkook said nothing to it.
But The King looked at his son before looking back down at the documents in his hands, "Don't worry," the King said, "I won't meddle into your private life."
The King then turned a page of the document in front of him, "What training have you been giving the soldiers?" The King asked.
"Extended drills across all battalions," Jungkook answered, "combat formations, endurance rotations, and I have been running the senior units through close-range fights twice daily."
The King nodded slowly, "And their condition?"
"Better than when I left," Jungkook replied.
"Good," The King said, setting down the document in his hand to look into the eyes of his most favored son, "I want you to prepare for war."
pairing: student! fem reader x student! jeon jungkook
summary: when you finally get your crushâs number, you expect the start of an epic love storyâ not a random guy making fun of you because he thinks the guy youâve been obsessed with for the last six months gave you a fake number. Jeon Jungkook, the one who replies, finds it entertaining and helps you chase the guy⌠at least until he finds out that the person heâs been helping date another guy is you, the girl heâs been obsessed with for the last two years.
genre/warning: this is a smau fic!! with narration included in some chapter but itâs mostly messages/tweets. very unfunny jokes. this is mostly crack/fluff.
authors note: âbut u have to update ur other fic blah blah blahâ umm shut the fuck up?. anyway this is my first time attempting smau fics so be nice to me thank u. ngl i was VERY high writing this but it made me giggle when i read it again. hope u hehe a lil with this. iloveu.
i know this is not my usual type of writing but idk i was feeling silly and i always wanted to try smau. this is for giggles and shit! â gift credits in the watermark??
hiii i loved the landlord! yoongi fic a lot and I was curious if u could make headcannons or maybe they actually ended up together and he's STILL just as obsessed with her. it'd be cute if he convinced her to just live with him too- ah okay I'm done I'm just a sucker for manipulation tropes etc lol
A/N: lol I'm glad you enjoyed the landlord! Yoongi fic - I know it may not be everyone's cup of tea since it's kind of taboo type tropes. I also want to say that this is all fiction, and this depiction of Yoongi should not be perceived as true or something good.
Warnings: mdni, 18+, dead dove: do not eat, dub/con, perv! Yoongi, depraved! Yoongi, sleazy landlord! Yoongi, plus size! reader, power imbalance, manipulation, dark! Love, mentally unwell! Yoongi, delulu! Yoongi, unprotected smut, Yoongi big, dumbification, oral (f rec), mentions of fingering, blackmail kind of, this is toxic love, etc.
Add on from this
[BE VERY AWARE, SMUT BELOW THE 'KEEP READING' TAG]
landlord! Yoongi isn't a good guy. After he manipulates you, it takes you a few days to realize what you've truly done, but by then it's too late. His obsession with you has only grown.
landlord! Yoongi saves the video (you didn't even know he had recorded) like a prized possession because it is. It's his key to keep you with him. But he doesn't use it right away; instead, he tries to start off nice by keeping his word, giving you a discount on rent, and paying the fake fees he created just for you.
landlord! Yoongi decides that because you allowed this, he can now court you. He knows he's doing everything backwards in the name of dating you, but he's pretty positive nonetheless. And it's why a few days later, he shows up at your doorstep with a smile like it's normal.
landlord! Yoongi asks if you've eaten yet, knowing you've just got off work. You're exhausted, tired, and not prepared to see him leaning on your front door, knowing he knows exactly what your bedroom looks like and how you sound when you take him to the hilt. Your stomach twists a little, and you're not sure whether it's from excitement or weariness, but you still accept his hand, allowing him to take you out.
landlord! Yoongi talks to you like he's really interested in you, which is a breath of fresh air. He asks about your interests, your hobbies, and what your aspirations are over the food you share at the restaurant. He gives you enough compliments to make your face flush, but in the back of your head, there is this little voice that is telling you this isn't right.
You aren't sure if you are just trying to self-sabotage yourself because you think he's handsome and wouldn't actually ever want you, or because you feel guilty financially over him. Still, by the end of the night, you find yourself underneath him again at your apartment.
landlord! Yoongi has your thighs spread apart with his big hands, and his head tucked between them like it's the only place he belongs. He takes his time to kiss and mark his way up from your ankles all the way to your pretty pussy with deliberate kisses and nips. And you're practically begging him to do more when his breath finally fans over your soaking panties.
landlord! Yoongi's head spins as all the blood rushes south - every little noise you make has him holding onto your thighs tighter, his cock straining in his pants as he pulls your pretty panties off to get a look at your drooling cunt up close
landlord! Yoongi murmurs praises about how pretty you are, how wet you are for him, and when he finally parts your puffy folds to get his first proper taste, he groans, lovesick and hungry.
landlord! Yoongi eats your pussy like youâre water and heâs a man who hasnât had a drink in years. His moans are low and muffled between your thick thighs, and his tongue lavishes your puffy folds until youâre dripping with slick and his spit.
His fingers dig into your soft skin, and his eyes flicker up to see the way your stomach flutters and your breasts heave as he works you up for your first orgasm of the night.
landlord! Yoongi makes you cum twice before even giving you his cock. The first time is on his face, coating his tongue, his nose, his chin with your sweet slick as you tremble underneath him. The next is on his fingers while he sucks on your clit like candy; he can't get enough of you.
Heâs quick to realize he prefers you crying his name with glossy eyes and a quivering cunt, weeping for him to give you more. And that's exactly what he does.
landlord! Yoongi takes you to your bed just like last time. Heâs got his hips between your twitching thighs, and his hands on either side of your head, clutching the bedsheets underneath you. He makes you look at him as he bottoms out, unprotected, and his lips curve up into a satisfied smirk because this is what he wants. He wants you.
You are holding onto him desperately as he carves a path deep inside your velvety walls. His thick mushroom tip is stirring your insides deliciously as your eyes roll back, and when heâs done with you, tears streak your chubby cheeks as his cum slowly drips down your thighs.
landlord! Yoongi keeps this up for a whole month before youâve had enough. The next time he shows up at your doorstep, your body blocks his entrance into your apartment, and youâre refusing to meet his dark eyes. âI donât think we should be doing this.â
Yoongiâs heart stutters and his jaw clenches as he resists the urge to force his way inside and show you that you really donât mean that. âWhat do you mean?â
âI-â your cheeks are flushed, and your brain is fighting itself. You're stupidly catching feelings, and you don't know if you should be. âThis arrangement.. I got offered another job, I can start Monday, and itâll help cover the fees- I donât- You donât have to do this anymore.â
landlord! Yoongi isnât a good guy. He doesnât know how to just say he wants you, so he resorts to holding the videos, yes, videos, over you.
He proposes a better option, in his opinion.
You donât need to accept the second job; instead, heâll take care of you. You can work, do what makes you happy, but youâre his, youâre not leaving him.
And if you hesitate, he is more than willing to remind you just how good he can make you feel.
Itâs a little warped, but itâs the best he can offer you right now. And when you let the door open a little wider, allowing him inside again, you know that you cannot deny it any longer; you want this just as much as he does.
đ â¤ď¸ đ ââââ seven powerful businessmen have the luxury, the influence and anything they could ever desire â yet none of it makes them feel alive anymore. that is, until they become captivated by a waitress who awakens something inside them for the first time in years. drawn in by your presence, they offer you one night of passion and pleasure in exchange for money, never expecting it to end in such an unforgettable way.
PAIRING ⌠dom!bts x sub!f.reader
GENRE ⌠gangbang au, BDSM, polyamory, eightsome, porn with little plot, smut, fluff
WARNINGS ⌠18+, explicit smut, consensual rough sex, eightsome, multiple orgasms and positions, creampie, unprotected sex, free use, semipublic sex, breeding and impregnation kink, degradation, power play, size difference, bondage, reader gets passed around, oral sex (f. receiving), double penetration, triple penetration, vaginal and anal sex, anal training, spanking, impact play (use of hands, belts etc), choking and breath play, possible use of sex toys, overstimulation, forced orgasms, cum inflation and belly bulging, pussy eating and fingering, squirting, wet & messy sex, body worship, dirty talk, fisting and gaping, breast play, mentions of safe word (not used), oral sex (m. receiving), sloppy blowjob, throat fucking, manhandling, use of lube and saliva, cum stuffing, use of belt as a collar, reader takes three cocks at the same time, sweetest loving aftercare, more tags to be added...
WC ⌠30k+ ( estimated )
NOTE ⌠5k followers special oneshot as i promised to you babes *MWAAAH*
please tell me he angry fucks her later or they angry kiss. do they angry kiss? I imagine tatted hand choking her or smth. hmhmhm
NEW THEME IS EATING? any meaning behind it im curious
Picture as an accurate representation of quite literally everyone after the teaser dropped. I have ideas of a plan for what happens after that, I suggest we hold our breath until tomorrow night for the big reveal. And thank you, I love this theme as well heh <3
TROPES/WARNINGS -> biker!jungkook, blue collar!jungkook, ex criminal!jungkook, shy reader, age gap, unprotected sex, oral (male recieving), implied abusive relationship, reader is smol, street crime, implied violence, praise kink, size kink, nicknames (angel, doll, sweetheart)
WORDS -> 10.2k (so fcking long, i took a long time on this)
now playing: touchin' me - chandler leighton â･đŚšÂ°â§
MAIN MASTERLIST
"Sweetheart, you lost?"
The voice came from somewhere behind the cigarette haze and neon glareârough around the edges like gravel under boots, but with a warmth that didn't match the leather-and-knuckles crowd packed into the bar. You turned, slow, half-expecting some grizzled biker with a beer gut and bad intentions. Instead, you found yourself looking upâway upâinto the sharpest brown eyes youâd ever seen.
He wasnât smiling, but his posture was relaxed, one elbow propped on the sticky countertop like he owned the place. Which, judging by the way the other patrons gave him a wide berth, he might as well have. His sleeves were rolled to the elbows, revealing ink that coiled around his forearms like a warning in a language you didnât know how to read.
"You donât look like you belong here," he said, tipping his chin toward the door. "Place like this eats angels for breakfast."
Your fingers curled tighter around your drinkâsome watered-down whiskey youâd ordered just to look less out of placeâbut the condensation on the glass betrayed your nerves. "I'm fine," you lied, voice smaller than youâd intended. His eyebrow arched, and you swore his mouth twitched, like heâd caught you in something far more interesting than a bad poker face.
"Uh-huh." He leaned in just enough that the scent of motor oil and something faintly sweetâvanilla?âdrifted over. Close enough that you could see the way his tattoo disappeared under the rolled cuff of his sleeve, the tail end of a snake or maybe a dragon. "Tell you what," he said, thumb brushing the rim of your glass, "you finish that, and Iâll walk you out. Sunâs been down an hour. Streets ainât kind after dark."
You opened your mouth to argue, but the bartenderâa gnarled man with a scar through his eyebrowâsnorted and slid a fresh beer toward the stranger without being asked. "Listen to Jungkook, kid. Only idiot out hereâs the one who donât know when to fold."
Jungkook. The name suited him, all hard consonants and edges. You watched him take a slow drag from the bottle, the line of his throat working, and suddenly the room felt ten degrees hotter.
Your fingers twitched against the glass, the ice inside clinking like a nervous heartbeat. Jungkookâs gaze didnât waver, steady as a sniperâs, and you realized with a jolt that he wasnât just offeringâhe was waiting. Like heâd already decided how this would go, and the only variable left was how long youâd pretend otherwise. The bartender wiped down the counter with a rag that had seen better decades, his one good eye flicking between you two like this was the most entertainment heâd had all week.
âI donât need a babysitter,â you muttered, but the words lacked bite, dissolving into the thrum of bass from the jukebox. Jungkookâs chuckle was low, a rumble you felt more than heard, and he set his beer down with a decisive clink.
âDidnât offer to babysit.â His thumb tapped the glass near yours, a silent countdown. âOffered to walk. Big difference.â The dragon on his forearm flexed as he shifted, ink rippling under the barâs sickly yellow light. You wondered absently if it hurt when he got themâif heâd bitten his lip like you did during flu shots, or if heâd laughed in the needleâs face.
The whiskey was terrible, but you downed the last of it anyway, if only to give your hands something to do. Jungkookâs mouth curled at the corner, approving, and he nodded toward the door. âCâmon, angel. Letâs get some air.â The nickname shouldnât have sent a shiver down your spine. It definitely shouldnât have made your stomach flip.
The night air hit you like a slapâcold and sharp, chasing away the barâs stale heat. Jungkook stepped out behind you, his presence at your back both unsettling and inexplicably reassuring. The door swung shut with a thud, muffling the barâs raucous noise into a distant hum. Streetlights flickered overhead, casting uneven pools of yellow onto the cracked pavement. Somewhere down the block, a motorcycle engine growled to life, then faded into the darkness.
âWhereâs your ride?â Jungkook asked, nodding toward the mostly empty parking lot. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket, shoulders broad enough to block the wind. You hesitated, suddenly aware of how exposed you were out hereâno car, no plan, just the lingering burn of cheap whiskey in your throat and a stranger who smelled like trouble and vanilla.
âDidnât drive,â you admitted. âWalked.â
Jungkookâs expression darkened, just for a second. âFrom where?â
"Couple blocks over," you said, jerking your chin toward the dimly lit street beyond the parking lot. "Cheap motel with a flickering sign." The admission tasted like defeat, and you hated how small your voice soundedâlike some lost kid instead of the grown woman whoâd sworn she could handle herself.
Jungkook exhaled sharply through his nose, the sound almost a laugh but not quite. "That shithole by the old laundromat?" He shook his head, leather creaking as he shifted his weight. "Christ, angel. Placeâs got more roaches than the city dump." The way he said itâlike he knew exactly which peeling wallpaper youâd been staring at for the past three nightsâmade your cheeks burn.
You crossed your arms, suddenly defensive. "Itâs temporary."
"Yeah? How temporary?" His gaze dropped to your shoesâscuffed sneakers that had seen better daysâthen back up to your face, slow, deliberate. Like he was adding up numbers in his head and didnât like the sum. "You got someone waiting for you there?"
The question hung between you like a dare, and for a second, you considered lying. But Jungkookâs eyesâsharp as broken glassâseemed to see right through you. "No," you admitted, the word barely louder than the distant hum of traffic. "Just me."
Something flickered in his expressionâtoo fast to nameâbefore he sighed and scrubbed a hand over his jaw. The stubble there made a rough sound against his palm. "Motelâs a bad idea," he said, like it was a fact, not an opinion. "Landlordâs got a habit of âforgettingâ to lock doors. Especially for pretty girls traveling light."
Your stomach lurched. Youâd known that. Had shoved a chair under the doorknob every night and slept with your keys between your knuckles like some DIY weapon. But hearing it out loud, in that gravel-cut voice, made it real in a way you hadnât let it be before. "I can handle myself," you muttered, but the protest sounded hollow even to you.
Jungkookâs mouth twitched. "Yeah? That why youâre shaking?" You hadnât even noticed, but your hands were tremblingâslightly, just at the fingertipsâand the realization burned like shame. Before you could snap back, he reached out, slow, giving you every chance to duck away. His thumb brushed the back of your hand, just once, warm and calloused. "Cold," he said, like he was offering you an out. "Letâs get you somewhere that ainât got bedbugs."
His fingers closed around yours, not tight enough to trap, but firm enough that you couldnât pretend you hadnât felt it. The callouses on his palm rasped against your skinârough in a way that sent an unexpected spark up your wrist. "You're not taking me home," you said, more to remind yourself than him. The words came out breathier than youâd intended, like your lungs had forgotten how air worked.
Jungkook snorted, steering you toward a parked motorcycle at the edge of the lot. "Didnât offer that either, doll." The bike was all matte black and chrome, gleaming under the flickering streetlight like something half-tamed. He grabbed a spare helmet off the backâscuffed red, with a peeling sticker you couldnât readâand held it out. "Got a couch at the shop. Springsâll fuck your back worse than that motel mattress, but at least the locks work."
You hesitated, fingers hovering over the helmet. Common sense screamed that this was how people ended up in ditches, but the way Jungkook watched youâpatient, like he had all nightâmade it hard to believe heâd bother luring you somewhere just to hurt you. Hurt took effort, and this man moved like every action was calculated to waste as little energy as possible. "What shop?" you asked, stalling.
"Auto repair. Two blocks north." He tilted his head, studying you. "You can call someone if you want. Or I can drop you at a bus stop." The offer was casual, but his fingers tapped once against the helmetâimpatient, maybe, or just restless.
The helmet felt heavier than it should have, the weight of the decision settling into your palms. Jungkook didnât rush you, just leaned against the bike, one boot propped on the kickstand like he had all the time in the world. His patience was almost worse than pressureâit made you feel like you were the one holding things up, like the night was waiting on you to stop being stupid.
"Bus stopâs fine," you said finally, because it was the sensible thing, the thing youâd tell a friend to do. But the words tasted like ash, and Jungkookâs smirk said he knew it.
"Uh-huh." He pushed off the bike, plucking the helmet from your grip before you could change your mind. "Bus left twenty minutes ago, angel. Next oneâs at dawn." His fingers brushed yours as he strapped the helmet onto your head, adjusting the fit with a precision that suggested heâd done this before. The padding smelled like leather and something faintly citrusâclean, unlike the barâs sticky air. "You wanna stand out here all night pretending you got options, be my guest. But that motelâs gonna smell worse the longer you wait."
The buckle clicked under your chin, snug enough to pinch. You opened your mouth to argue, but Jungkook was already swinging a leg over the bike, the engine growling to life beneath him like a living thing. He jerked his head toward the space behind him. "Up, doll. Unless youâre scared."
The helmet muffled your scoff, but Jungkookâs smirk widened like heâd heard it anyway. Scared. The word prickled under your skinâtoo close to the truth, too easy a taunt. You hesitated a second longer, just to prove you could, then swung your leg over the bike with more bravado than grace. The seat was warm where his body had been, the leather creaking under your weight. Jungkook glanced over his shoulder, one eyebrow arched. âHold on tight, angel. I donât do slow.â
You barely had time to grip his waist before the bike lurched forward, the sudden acceleration pressing you flush against his back. The heat of him seeped through his jacket, solid and unyielding, and you caught another whiff of that vanilla-and-motor-oil scent as the wind whipped past your ears. The streets blurred into streaks of neon and shadow, the bike weaving through traffic with a recklessness that shouldâve terrified youâbut Jungkookâs hands were steady on the handlebars, his movements precise, like every turn was mapped behind his eyelids.
The shop appeared sooner than expected, a squat brick building wedged between a pawnshop and a boarded-up diner. A flickering sign above the roll-up door read Golden Hands Auto in peeling gold letters. Jungkook killed the engine with a twist of his wrist, and the sudden silence rang in your ears. You peeled yourself off his back, your thighs tremblingâwhether from adrenaline or the vibration of the bike, you couldnât tell.
Jungkook dismounted in one smooth motion, plucking the helmet off your head before you could fumble with the strap. âCâmon,â he said, jerking his chin toward a side door. The key scraped in the lock, loud in the quiet street. Inside, the shop smelled like grease and old coffee, the air thick with the kind of warmth that clung to places where engines ran for hours. A workbench littered with tools ran along one wall, a sagging couch shoved against the other.
The couch groaned when you sat down, springs digging into your thighs through the thin upholstery. Jungkook flicked on a desk lampâits orange glow cutting through the dimnessâand tossed a folded blanket at you without looking. It smelled faintly of detergent and something earthy, like the forest after rain. âMake yourself at home,â he said, already shrugging out of his jacket. The motion pulled his shirt tight across his shoulders, the fabric straining over muscles that hadnât come from gym reps.
You watched him moveâefficient, unhurriedâas he filled a dented kettle at a sink in the corner. The water sputtered from the faucet, loud in the quiet. âYou live here?â you asked, picking at a loose thread on the blanket. The question sounded absurd the moment it left your mouth. Of course he didnât. The place was half workshop, half storage closet.
Jungkook snorted, setting the kettle on a hotplate. âNah. Got an apartment upstairs.â He nodded toward a door you hadnât noticed, half-hidden behind a tool rack. âShopâs mine, though.â The pride in his voice was subtle but unmistakable, like the gleam on the bikeâs chrome.
The kettle whistled, sharp and sudden. Jungkook poured steaming water into two mugsâone chipped, the other with a faded superhero logoâand handed you the intact one. The tea inside was dark, bitter when you sipped, but warmth spread through your chest anyway. âSo,â he said, leaning against the workbench with his own mug, âyou gonna tell me why you were drinking alone in a biker bar, or am I supposed to guess?â
The mug burned your fingertips, but you clung to it anywayâsomething solid to ground you while Jungkookâs question hung in the air like a dare. You could lie. Invent some rebellious phase, a bad breakup, a dare from a friend. But his gaze was steady, patient in a way that made fabrications wither before they reached your tongue. "Needed to be somewhere loud," you admitted, tracing the rim of the mug with your thumb. "Somewhere that didnât feel like four peeling walls and a broken AC unit."
Jungkook hummed, sipping his tea like heâd expected that answer. The steam curled around his lips before he spoke again. "And the whiskey?"
"Liquid courage," you muttered, the words bitter as the tea. "Thought if I looked like I belonged, I wouldnât feel soâŚ" You trailed off, suddenly aware of how pathetic it soundedâplaying dress-up in someone elseâs life.
Jungkookâs chuckle was low, more vibration than sound. "Sweetheart, you couldâve worn head-to-toe leather and still stuck out like a virgin at a gangbang." The crudeness shouldâve made you bristle, but the way he said itâfond, almost teasingâtook the sting out. He set his mug down with a clink, elbows propped on the workbench behind him. The pose stretched his shirt across his chest, the fabric pulling taut over the swell of his pecs. "So whoâs got you running to motels and biker bars?"
The question landed like a punch to the solar plexusâdirect, unexpected, forcing air from your lungs in a rush. Your fingers tightened around the mug, the ceramic almost too hot now, but the pain grounded you. Jungkook waited, his gaze unwavering, like he already knew the answer and just wanted to see if youâd lie.
"Ex," you said finally, the word sharp and small. "Notânot recent." A half-truth. The breakup was months ago, but the bruisesâthe ones that didnât fadeâstill ached under your skin. You glanced at Jungkookâs hands, the knuckles scarred and calloused, and wondered if heâd ever hit someone who didnât hit back first.
Jungkookâs expression darkened, a storm passing behind his eyes. He pushed off the workbench, the movement deliberate, and crouched in front of you, close enough that his knees brushed yours. The proximity shouldâve set off alarm bells, but his handsâresting loosely on his thighsâwere palms-up, open. "He know youâre here?"
The question was soft, but the implication wasnât. Your throat tightened. "No. Left town." Another lie. Youâd taken the first bus out with nothing but a duffel bag and the cash youâd scraped together, but youâd checked over your shoulder every block.
Jungkookâs jaw tightened, the muscle flexing under the scruff of his stubble. He didnât call you out on the lie, just nodded once, slow, like he was filing the information away somewhere dark and dangerous. âGood,â he said, voice rough. His thumb brushed the edge of your kneeâjust a graze, but the contact sent a jolt up your thigh. âMeans heâs smart.â
The couch creaked as you shifted, suddenly hyperaware of how close he wasâclose enough that you could count the faint scars along his collarbone where his shirt gaped open. The shopâs dim lighting painted shadows under his eyes, sharpening the angles of his face until he looked more like a warning than a man.
âYou hungry?â he asked abruptly, pushing to his feet before you could answer. The sudden distance left you oddly unmoored, like youâd been leaning into a wind that vanished. Jungkook rummaged in a mini-fridge by the workbench, the hum of it drowning out the silence. âGot leftovers,â he said, tossing a plastic-wrapped container onto the counter. âDiner down the street makes decent pancakes.â
The mention of food twisted your stomachâyou hadnât eaten since yesterdayâs gas station sandwichâbut you hesitated. âYou donât have toââ
ââfeed me,â you finished lamely, watching as Jungkook pried the lid off the container with a practiced flick of his wrist. The pancakes inside were slightly congealed, the syrup crystallized at the edges, but your stomach growled treacherously.
Jungkook shot you a look that said heâd heard it. âYeah, well,â he said, shoving the container into a microwave that looked like it had survived a war. âYouâre skin and bones, doll. Canât have you passing out on my couch.â The microwave whirred to life, its dim light casting his profile in a sickly yellow glow. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, and you caught the way his gaze flicked to your wristsâtoo thin, the veins too prominentâbefore darting away.
The microwave beeped, startlingly loud in the quiet shop. Jungkook tossed a fork at you without warning; you caught it by sheer reflex, the metal cold against your palm. âEat,â he ordered, nudging the reheated pancakes toward you. They smelled like butter and cheap maple syrup, and suddenly you were ravenous.
You took a bite, the sweetness overwhelming after days of gas station pretzels and vending machine crackers. Jungkook watched, silent, as you devoured half the stack before coming up for air. His expression was unreadableâsomewhere between amused and pissed offâbut his voice was softer than you expected when he spoke. âHow long since you ate a real meal?â
The fork scraped against the plastic container louder than you meant it to. You stalled, chewing slowly just to avoid answering. Jungkook didnât rush you, just watched with that unnerving patience, like heâd wait all night if he had to.
"Couple days," you muttered finally, syrup sticking to your lips. The admission tasted worse than the lie.
Jungkookâs jaw tightened. He pushed off the counter abruptly, snagging a rag from the workbench to wipe grease off his handsâthough they looked clean enough. The motion was too sharp, like he needed to do something with the tension coiling in his shoulders. "Motel have a fridge?"
You shook your head, staring at the half-eaten pancakes suddenly gone leaden in your stomach. The silence stretched, thick with everything you werenât sayingâthe dwindling cash, the way youâd started skipping meals to stretch it further.
The rag hit the workbench with a dull thwack. Jungkook exhaled through his noseâslow, controlledâlike he was counting backward from ten. âRight,â he said, and that single word carried more exhaustion than anger. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, the stubble rasping against his palm. âFinish eating.â
The command brooked no argument, but his tone lacked its usual edge. You picked at the remaining pancakes, syrup congealing at the edges of the container. Jungkook moved to a cluttered desk in the corner, yanking open a drawer with more force than necessary. The sound of rummagingâmetal clinking, papers rustlingâfilled the shopâs heavy silence. When he straightened, he held a key pinched between his fingers, its teeth glinting under the lamplight.
âUpstairs,â he said, tossing it toward you. You fumbled the catch; the key landed in your lap with a cold weight. âDoorâs second on the left. Shower works. Towels in the closet.â He paused, jaw working like he was chewing over his next words. âFridge is stocked.â
You stared at the key, its grooves biting into your palm. The offer hovered between you, unspoken but unmistakable: Stay. Your throat tightened. âI canâtââ
"âafford rent," you finished, the words scraping your throat raw. The key burned in your palm like a guilty secret. Jungkook snorted, kicking the drawer shut with his boot.
"Didn't ask for rent, angel." He leaned back against the desk, arms crossed over his chest. The movement pulled his shirt tight across his biceps, the fabric straining at the seams. "Place is paid for. You'd be doing me a favorâkeeps the squatters out."
The lie was so transparent it almost hurt. You turned the key over in your fingers, the metal warmed by your grip. "Why?"
Jungkook stilled. For a heartbeat, the only sound was the hum of the fridge and the distant groan of pipes overhead. Then he pushed off the desk, crossing the space between you in three strides. His hand closed over yours, callouses catching on your knuckles as he folded your fingers around the key.
The warmth of his hand lingered even after he let go, the metal key pressed between your fingers like a promise you weren't sure you deserved. Jungkook didnât step back, his boots planted wide enough that his knees bracketed yours. Close enough that you could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, the faint scar bisecting his left eyebrow.
"Because I donât like the way you flinch," he said finally, voice low, like the words were dragged out of him. His thumb brushed your wristâjust above the bruise youâd tried to hide under your sleeveâand the touch burned hotter than shame. "And because Iâve slept on that couch. Springsâll fuck you up worse than whatever youâre running from."
You swallowed hard, the keyâs teeth digging into your palm. The honesty in his voice hurt more than pity ever could. "I donâtâ" Your voice cracked. You tried again. "I donât know how to pay you back."
Jungkookâs mouth curled, something dark and amused flashing in his eyes. "Who said anything about paying?" He reached past you, snagging the half-empty mug of tea off the couch arm. His forearm brushed your shoulder, the contact fleeting but electric. "Consider it a favor between strays."
The key felt heavier in your palm than it should have. Jungkookâs gaze didnât waver, steady as the hum of the fridge in the corner. You opened your mouthâto protest, to thank him, to ask what the hell he meant by straysâbut he was already turning away, tossing the empty mug into the sink with a clatter.
âShop opens at seven,â he said, shrugging his jacket back on with a single practiced motion. The leather creaked as he adjusted the collar, the sound oddly intimate in the quiet. âDonât sleep through the noise.â He nodded toward the side door, the one heâd unlocked minutes ago. âUpstairsâs through there. Lockâs stiffâjiggle the handle.â
You stared at the key, then at his back as he moved toward the roll-up door. âWaitâyouâre leaving?â The question slipped out before you could stop it, too raw at the edges.
Jungkook paused, half-turned, his profile sharp under the flickering shop light. âGot a bike to rebuild,â he said, like that explained everything. His boot scuffed the concrete as he shifted his weight. âYou want a bedtime story too, angel?â
The helmet hit the couch with a dull thud when you chucked it at him. Jungkook caught it one-handed without looking, his smirk widening as the foam padding bounced against his palm. "Cute," he drawled, tossing it onto the workbench. The metal clattered against wrenches, the sound echoing in the shop's cavernous silence.
You stood too fastâthe couch springs protestingâand instantly regretted it when the room tilted. Jungkook's hand shot out, steadying you by the elbow before you could faceplant into the tool rack. His grip was firm, calloused fingers pressing just above the bruise your ex had left three weeks ago. You froze.
Jungkook didn't. He let go like you'd burned him, stepping back with a roughness that didn't match the careful way he'd touched you. "Watch your step, doll." His voice was gruff, but his gaze dropped to your wristâto the yellowing fingerprint-sized marks peeking from under your sleeveâbefore flicking away.
The side door groaned when you shoved it open, the rusted hinges screaming like a dying animal. The stairwell beyond was narrow, the steps uneven underfoot, the air thick with the scent of motor oil and something faintly herbalâlike the tea he'd made you. Jungkook's shadow stretched long behind you, his presence at your back both unsettling and inexplicably steadying.
The key turned with a stubborn grind, the lock protesting until you jiggled the handle exactly as Jungkook had instructed. The apartment smelled like cedar and engine greaseâlived-in, masculine. A single lamp cast amber light over a threadbare couch and a coffee table littered with motorcycle magazines. The fridge hummed in the corner, its door plastered with takeout menus and a yellowed photo of a younger Jungkook standing beside an older man, both grinning in front of a car with its hood propped open.
You toed off your shoes by the door, the floorboards creaking underfoot. The shower ran hot, thank god, and you stood under the spray until your skin pruned, washing away the barâs sticky residue. His soap was unscented, utilitarian, but the towel you wrapped yourself in carried his faint vanilla-and-leather scent. It shouldnât have made your stomach flutter.
The bedroom was sparseâjust a dresser and a mattress without a frame, its sheets pulled tight as a drum. You hesitated before sliding under the covers, hyperaware of the way the fabric smelled like him. Sleep came in fitful bursts, punctuated by the distant rumble of engines and the occasional clang from the shop below.
At dawn, the roar of a hydraulic lift jerked you awake. Sunlight sliced through gaps in the blinds, painting stripes across the floor. You found a note taped to the fridge in messy block letters: EAT. DONâT TOUCH THE TOOLS. The fridge was indeed stockedâeggs, fruit, a six-pack of beer. You fried two eggs, the yolks bright as danger signs.
The eggs tasted like heaven and guilt in equal measure. You scraped the last of the yolk with your fork when the shop door buzzed open belowâa deep mechanical groan followed by the familiar rumble of Jungkookâs voice, too muffled to make out words. The floor vibrated faintly under your bare feet, the rhythm of tools clinking and occasional laughter threading up through the boards. You washed your plate slowly, deliberately, listening to the cadence of his movements like it was a language you were trying to learn.
A sudden burst of laughterâdeeper than Jungkookâsâmade you jump. The sponge slipped from your fingers, hitting the sink with a wet slap. You hadnât realized the shop had other employees. The thought of strangers down there, joking with Jungkook like this was any other Tuesday, made your skin prickle. You wiped your hands on the towelâhis towelâand eyed the stairwell door. It stood slightly ajar, just as youâd left it.
The decision to go downstairs wasnât a decision at all; your feet carried you before your brain could object. The steps creaked under your weight, each groan louder than the last, announcing your descent like a herald. The shopâs fluorescent lights glared brighter than you remembered, bleaching the concrete floor and the two figures bent over a motorcycle in the center bay.
Jungkook straightened first, wiping grease off his hands with a rag. His sleeves were rolled past his elbows, tattoos flexing as he motioned to the older man beside himâgray at the temples, built like a retired boxer. âJimin, this isââ He paused, just for a heartbeat, and you realized he didnât know your name.
"Y/N," you supplied quickly, stepping off the last stair. The concrete was cold under your bare feet, sending a shiver up your legs. Jungkookâs gaze dropped to your toes, then flicked back up with an unreadable expressionâsomewhere between amusement and exasperation.
Jimin whistled low, wiping his hands on an already-grimy rag. "Didnât know you were keeping strays upstairs, Kook." His grin was sharp, but his eyes were kind as they flicked between you and Jungkook. "Cute ones, at that."
Jungkook chucked a wrench at him without looking. Jimin caught it with a laugh, the metal clanging against his palm. "Donât scare her off," Jungkook muttered, tossing the rag onto the workbench. "Sheâs skittish enough as it is."
You bristled, crossing your arms. "Iâm not skittish."
Jimin grinned, tossing the wrench back to Jungkook with a lazy flick of his wrist. "Sure you're not, sweetheart." The nickname rolled off his tongue with practiced ease, but his gazeâsharp beneath the casual charmâlingered on your crossed arms, the way your fingers dug into your sleeves. Jungkook caught the wrench one-handed, his knuckles whitening around the handle for half a second before he set it down with deliberate calm.
The shopâs fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting stark shadows under the bikeâs raised chassis. Jungkook wiped his hands on his jeans, leaving dark streaks across the denim. "Jiminâs the reason the shop doesnât burn down," he said, jerking his chin toward the older man. "Also why weâve got a swear jar."
Jimin snorted, leaning against the workbench. "Like youâve ever paid into it." His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the lines there deeper than they shouldâve been for a man his age. You caught the way his gaze flicked to Jungkookâbrief, assessingâbefore settling back on you. "So, Y/N. You sticking around, or just passing through?"
The question hung in the air like exhaust fumes. You opened your mouthâto say what, you werenât sureâbut Jungkook cut in before you could answer. "Sheâs staying." The words were flat, final, leaving no room for argument. Jiminâs eyebrows lifted a fraction, but he didnât comment, just nodded and reached for a coffee mug perched precariously on a stack of invoices.
The coffee mug hit the workbench with a sharp clack, breaking the silence that had settled between the three of you. Jiminâs smirk was knowing as he took a slow sip, his eyes flicking between you and Jungkook like he was watching a game of chess unfold. "Staying, huh?" he mused, setting the mug down with deliberate care. "That so, Y/N?"
You swallowed, suddenly aware of how thin your borrowed t-shirt felt against your skinâhow Jungkookâs gaze lingered on the way the fabric dipped at your collarbone before he looked away, jaw tight. "Yeah," you said, quieter than you meant to. "If thatâs okay."
Jimin chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, itâs more than okay, sweetheart." He nudged Jungkookâs shoulder with his own, grinning when Jungkook didnât react beyond a faint twitch of his brow. "Our boy here doesnât bring just anyone upstairs."
Jungkookâs knuckles went white around the wrench heâd picked up again. "Shut up, Jimin."
The wrench clattered onto the workbench with a sound like a gunshot. Jungkookâs shoulders were taut under his grease-streaked shirt, the fabric clinging to the sweat at the small of his back. Jiminâs grin widenedâsharp as a bladeâas he leaned in to whisper something that made Jungkookâs ears flush crimson. You pretended not to notice, focusing instead on the way your toes curled against the cold concrete.
"Need help with the Kawasaki," Jungkook muttered, jerking his chin toward a bike in the cornerâits engine exposed like an open wound. Jimin saluted, winking at you over his coffee mug before sauntering off. The shopâs fluorescent lights buzzed louder in the sudden silence, casting Jungkookâs shadow long across the floor between you.
He didnât look at you when he spoke. "You sleep okay?" The question was gruff, like heâd practiced it in his head too many times.
You nodded, suddenly hyperaware of his scent on the borrowed t-shirtâmotor oil and something faintly sweet, like vanilla sunk deep into his skin. "Better than the motel."
The silence stretched between youâthick with unsaid thingsâuntil Jungkook cleared his throat and jerked his chin toward the bike. "Hand me that torque wrench." His voice was rougher than usual, like he'd been chewing on gravel. You blinked, glancing at the tool rack behind you where a dozen identical-looking wrenches hung in neat rows.
Jungkook snorted when your fingers hovered uncertainly over the tools. "Silver one," he said, not looking up from the engine he was elbow-deep in. "Twelve millimeter." You grabbed it by the handle, the metal cool against your palm, and crossed the shop floor. The concrete was gritty under your bare feet, tiny shards of metal catching the light like discarded scales.
When you held the wrench out, Jungkook didn't take it. Instead, he straightenedâslowly, deliberatelyâuntil you were close enough to see the sweat beading along his hairline, the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. "Closer," he murmured, voice dropping to something low and rough that skated down your spine.
You took a half-step forward, the wrench between you like an offering. Jungkook's calloused fingers closed over yoursânot taking the tool, just holding your hand there, his thumb brushing your knuckles in a way that felt anything but accidental. The shop's overhead lights buzzed like angry hornets, casting his face in sharp reliefâthe stubborn set of his jaw, the way his bottom lip caught between his teeth when he concentrated.
The wrench slipped from your fingers with a clatter, metal ringing against concrete as Jungkookâs grip tightenedânot enough to hurt, just enough to make your pulse stutter. His thumb traced the delicate bones of your wrist, rough skin catching on yours, and you realized he wasnât looking at the tool at all. His gaze burned a path from your parted lips to the rapid flutter of your pulse, lingering where the borrowed t-shirt gaped at your collarbone.
âJungkookââ His name came out breathless, barely audible over the hum of the shopâs fluorescent lights.
He exhaled through his nose, slow and controlled, before releasing your hand. The sudden absence of his touch left you oddly unmoored. âYouâre in my light, doll,â he said, voice rougher than the engine grease staining his knuckles.
You didnât move. Couldnât. The air between you crackled with something unsaid, something taut as a wire about to snap. Jungkookâs jaw flexed, his nostrils flaring as he dragged his gaze back up to yours. The wrench lay forgotten at your feet.
The wrench lay forgotten at your feet, but neither of you moved to pick it up. Jungkookâs gaze was heavy, dark with something unreadableâsomething that made your breath hitch when he stepped closer, the toe of his boot nudging the tool aside with a careless scrape. The shopâs fluorescent lights buzzed louder overhead, or maybe that was just the blood rushing in your ears.
"Youâre still in my light," he murmured, but his hands were already lifting, calloused fingers brushing your hips like he was testing the weight of you. His touch burned through the thin fabric of the borrowed shirt, branding your skin even as you swayed into him.
Jiminâs voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Kawasakiâs leaking oil, boss."
Jungkook didnât flinch, didnât step back. His thumbs dug into the hollows of your hips, holding you steady as he glanced over his shoulder. "Fix it," he said, voice rough as gravel.
Jimin lingered by the Kawasaki, wiping his hands on a rag with exaggerated slowness, his smirk widening when Jungkookâs grip tightened on your hips. "Might need your expertise," he drawled, tossing the rag onto a workbench. The fluorescent lights caught the mischief in his eyes as he nodded toward the oil spill. "Unless youâre busy."
Jungkookâs exhale was sharp, his breath warm against your temple. For a heartbeat, his fingers flexedâlike he was debating whether to let go or pull you closerâbefore he stepped back, the space between you suddenly cold. "Stay," he muttered, the word rough as his knuckles brushed your wrist. Then he was striding toward Jimin, his shoulders taut under his grease-streaked shirt.
You didnât realize youâd been holding your breath until it left you in a rush, your fingers trembling where they clutched the hem of Jungkookâs shirt. The shop smelled like motor oil and sweat, the scent clinging to the fabric as you inhaled shakily. Across the bay, Jungkook crouched beside the bike, his biceps straining as he tightened a bolt with quick, efficient twists. Jimin said something low and teasingâyou caught the tail end of it, something about distractionsâand Jungkookâs response was a grunt and a middle finger.
The wrench lay where it had fallen, glinting under the shop lights. You bent to pick it up, the metal cool against your palm, and hesitated. Jungkookâs gaze flicked to youâbrief, searingâbefore returning to the bike. His jaw was set, the muscle there jumping as he worked. You traced the wrenchâs grooves with your thumb, the ridges biting into your skin, and wondered how his callouses would feel dragging over your thighs.
The wrench clattered onto the workbench with a sharp metallic ring when Jungkook tossed it aside. His handsâgrease-streaked and scarredâhovered over the bikeâs engine like he was contemplating violence, but his gaze when it flicked to you was anything but angry. It was hungry. The kind of look that made your toes curl against the cold concrete, your borrowed shirt suddenly too thin against your skin.
Jimin whistled low from across the shop, tossing a rag at Jungkookâs head with practiced aim. âQuit eye-fucking the strays and help me with this gasket,â he drawled, wiping his hands on his jeans. The smirk he shot you was all teeth. âUnless youâre busy.â
Jungkook caught the rag without looking, his fingers curling tight around the fabric before he chucked it back. âShut up,â he muttered, but there was no heat in itâjust a rough edge that sent a shiver down your spine. His boots scuffed against the concrete as he turned, his broad shoulders blocking out the fluorescent lights overhead. âGo upstairs,â he said, voice dropping to something low and private. âIâll be there when Iâm done.â
It wasnât a request. The command curled around you like smoke, thick and heady, and you found yourself nodding before your brain caught up. Jungkookâs mouth quirked at the cornerâjust a hint of a smileâbefore he turned back to the bike, his hands already busy with the engine. You hesitated, your fingers twitching at your sides, before Jiminâs chuckle snapped you out of it.
The stairs groaned under your feet, each creak louder than the last as you climbed back to Jungkookâs apartment. The air smelled like himâoil and something faintly sweet clinging to the wooden banister. You hesitated at the top step, your fingers brushing the doorframe where the paint had chipped away from years of careless shoulders bumping against it.
Inside, the apartment hummed with quiet. The fridgeâs motor kicked on with a familiar rattle as you padded across the floorboards, still barefoot. Jungkookâs bedroom door stood ajar, the sheets rumpled from your restless sleep. You hesitated before stepping inside, your fingers trailing over the dresser where a spare set of keys and a half-empty bottle of cologne sat. The scent of itâspice and leatherâmade your stomach twist.
Downstairs, the shopâs hydraulic lift whined, followed by the distant thud of a toolbox hitting concrete. You could picture Jungkookâs handsâgrease-streaked and sureâtwisting a wrench with that same focused intensity heâd turned on you. The memory of his thumbs pressing into your hips sent a shiver down your spine.
You turned toward the shower instead, twisting the faucet until the water ran scalding. Steam fogged the mirror within seconds, obscuring your reflection as you peeled off Jungkookâs borrowed shirt. The fabric clung to your skin, damp with sweat and something elseâsomething that smelled unmistakably like him. You pressed it to your face, inhaling deeply before letting it fall to the tile with a wet slap.
The water was still running when the bathroom door creaked open. Steam billowed out in thick curls, obscuring everything except the silhouette of Jungkook's broad shoulders filling the doorway. His boots were offâbare feet silent on the tileâbut his shirt was still streaked with grease, the sleeves rolled up past his elbows like he'd come straight from the shop floor.
You didn't turn around. Couldn't. His reflection in the fogged-up mirror was hazy, distorted by condensation, but you felt his gaze like a physical touch trailing down the curve of your spine. The shower's spray drowned out everything except the hammering of your pulse.
"You left the door unlocked," Jungkook said, voice rough as gravel. He didn't move closer, but his fingers flexed at his sides like he was resisting the urge to reach out. The damp air clung to his forearms, highlighting every vein and scar.
You swallowed, watching his reflection blur further as more steam rose between you. "Didn't think you'd be up so soon."
The steam curled between you in slow, heavy tendrils, thickening the air until Jungkookâs reflection dissolved into nothing but a dark silhouette against the bathroom door. His voice, when it came again, was closerâlow and rough, barely audible over the showerâs spray. "Told you Iâd be here when I was done."
You didnât turn. Couldnât. The heat of the water pricked your skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his gaze tracing the dip of your waist, the swell of your hips. The mirror wept condensation, erasing you both in slow, wet streaks.
A calloused hand touched the small of your backâjust the barest brush of fingertipsâand you jerked like youâd been shocked. Jungkook didnât pull away. His palm settled fully against your spine, the roughness of his skin a stark contrast to the slick heat of the shower. "Still skittish," he murmured, more to himself than to you. His thumb swept a slow arc over the knobs of your vertebrae, pressing just hard enough to make your breath hitch.
The shower curtain rasped aside, the rings screeching against the rod. Jungkook stepped into the tub behind you, his bootsâno, bare feet, you realizedâplanted on either side of yours. The water hit his chest with a dull slap, soaking through his shirt in seconds. The fabric went translucent, clinging to the hard planes of his stomach, the flex of his pecs as he reached past you to adjust the faucet.
The water scalded your shoulders when Jungkook nudged the faucet hotterâdeliberate, testingâhis knuckles brushing your hip as he adjusted the spray. Steam curled between your bodies like smoke, thick enough to choke on. His shirt clung transparent to his chest, the fabric straining over his pecs as he reached past you to brace a palm against the tile. Water sluiced down his arms, carrying streaks of grease from the shop into the drain between your feet.
"You're still dirty," you murmured, watching the oil swirl in the water. His laugh was a rough exhale against the nape of your neck, the sound vibrating through your damp skin.
"Not for long." His fingers hooked in the waistband of your borrowed sweatpantsâhis sweatpantsâthe elastic snapping against your hips before he peeled them down with a single tug. The fabric hit the tub with a wet slap, forgotten as his palm slid up your thigh. Callouses caught on sensitive skin, his grip firm enough to leave marks. "Turn around."
The command sent a shiver down your spine, but you didnât moveâjust tipped your head back against his shoulder, your hair sticking to his wet shirt. Jungkookâs breath hitched, his free hand splaying across your stomach to pull you flush against him. The hard line of his cock pressed against the small of your back, separated only by soaked denim.
The water hit your skin like a brandâtoo hot, almost scaldingâbut Jungkook didnât ease the faucet back. His fingers flexed against your stomach, pressing you harder into the heat of his body as his other hand slid higher up your thigh. "I said," he murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear, "turn around."
You shivered despite the steam, your pulse thrumming where his thumb pressed into the soft flesh below your navel. The command curled around you, thick as the humidity clinging to your skin. When you didnât move fast enough, Jungkookâs grip tightenedânot painful, just insistentâand he spun you himself, your back hitting the tile with a damp thud.
The shower spray hit your collarbones now, water sluicing down your chest in rivulets. Jungkook crowded closer, one hand braced beside your head, the other still tracing possessive lines across your hip. His gaze dropped to your mouth, then lowerâlingering where the water darkened the patch of hair between your thighs. "Fuck," he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. His shirt clung transparent to his shoulders, the fabric stretched taut over his biceps.
You reached for the hemâhesitantâbut Jungkook caught your wrist, pinning it to the tile beside your head. "Donât," he said, voice rougher than the engine grease staining his knuckles. His hips canted forward, the denim of his jeans rasping against your bare thighs. "Not yet."
Jungkook's fingers tightened around your wrist, the rough pads of his callouses scraping against your pulse point. The shower's spray pounded against your shoulders, hot enough to redden your skin, but the heat radiating off his body was worseâthick and suffocating where he crowded you against the slick tile. His other hand slid down your hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh there as he ground his denim-clad erection against your thigh.
"You gonna be good for me?" His voice was a rough whisper against your temple, the words half-drowned by the water cascading around you. His breath smelled like mint and nicotine, sharp against the steam.
You noddedâtoo fast, too eagerâand Jungkook's lips curled into a smirk. His grip on your hip shifted, fingers spreading you open with a single, firm stroke that made your knees buckle. "Words, doll."
"Yes." The admission came out breathless, barely audible over the shower's roar.
The shower's steam curled around Jungkook's shoulders like smoke as he pinned you against the tile, his breath hot against your temple. His fingersârough from years of wrenching bolts and handling exhaust pipesâtraced a slow, torturous path down your inner thigh, pausing just shy of where you needed him most. "Tell me what you want," he murmured, his voice rougher than the denim grinding against your hip.
You swallowed, your nails scraping against the slick tile as his thumb brushed your clitâonce, twice, just enough to make your legs tremble. "You," you breathed, arching into his touch. "Just you."
Jungkook's smirk was dark as he hooked a finger under your chin, forcing your gaze up to his. "That all?" His free hand slid higher, callouses catching on sensitive skin as he teased your entrance. "You can do better than that, angel."
The pet name sent a shiver down your spine, your hips bucking against his hand. "Fuck me," you gasped, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Pleaseâ"
Jungkookâs breath stuttered against your templeâhot and unevenâbefore he crushed his mouth to yours. The kiss was rough, all teeth and desperation, his fingers tightening around your wrist as he pinned you harder against the tile. The shower spray hit your shoulders in scalding waves, but you barely felt it, not when his tongue was dragging against yours like he was trying to taste every inch of you.
"Say it again," he growled against your lips, his free hand sliding down to grip your thigh, hiking it up over his hip. Denim rasped against your skin, the damp fabric clinging to his legs as he ground against you. "Say it like you mean it."
"Fuck me," you gasped, arching into him, your nails digging into his shoulders through the soaked fabric of his shirt. "Please, Jungkookâ"
The sound of his name punched out of him in a rough groan, his hips jerking forward like he couldnât help it. His fingers flexed around your thigh, the blunt tips digging into your flesh as he dragged you closer, until there wasnât an inch of space left between you. Steam curled around your bodies, thick enough to choke on, but you could still see the way his pupils blew wideâblack swallowing brownâas his gaze dropped to your mouth.
The shower spray hit Jungkookâs shoulders in scalding sheets as he crowded you against the tile, his fingers tightening around your thigh hard enough to leave bruises. Steam fogged the glass until his reflection blurred into nothing but heat and muscle, his breath ragged against your lips. "Say it again," he demanded, voice rough as the denim rasping against your hips.
You gasped when his thumb brushed your clitârough and fleetingâyour back arching off the slick tile. "Fuck me," you begged, the words dripping like the water sluicing down his chest. "Right hereâ"
Jungkookâs growl vibrated through your sternum as he hooked his fingers in his waistband, shoving the soaked jeans down just enough to free his cock. The head brushed your inner thigh, hot as a brand even through the steam. "Look at you," he muttered, dragging his palm up your stomach to squeeze your breast through the drenched fabric of his shirt. "So fucking pretty when you beg."
The first thrust punched the air from your lungs. Jungkook didnât ease inâjust buried himself to the hilt with a single snap of his hips, his groan lost in the showerâs roar. Your nails scraped down his back, catching on the wet cotton clinging to his shoulders. He didnât seem to notice, too busy mouthing at your pulse point as he set a punishing pace, the tile biting into your spine with every snap of his hips.
The water sluiced down Jungkookâs back in rivulets, tracing the ridges of his spine as he pinned you harder against the tile. His thrusts were relentlessâdeep enough to steal your breath, rough enough to make your toes curl against the porcelain. Steam fogged the shower walls until all you could see was the flex of his shoulders, the way his biceps strained with every snap of his hips.
"You take me so good," he rasped against your throat, his teeth scraping your pulse point. His hands slid down to grip your thighs, hiking them higher around his waist. The new angle dragged a broken noise from your lips, your nails biting into his shoulders through the soaked fabric of his shirt. Jungkook growledâlow and approvingâas he felt you clench around him. "Fuck, just like that. Squeeze me tighter, angel."
The pet name unraveled something in your chest, your hips canting up to meet his thrusts with a desperation that made him chuckle darkly. His fingers dug into your flesh, blunt and possessive, as he fucked into you with a rhythm that sent water sloshing over the tubâs edge. The shower spray hit your collarbones like a brand, but you barely felt itânot when Jungkookâs mouth was on your neck, sucking bruises into your skin like he was marking his territory.
One of his hands slid between your bodies, calloused fingers finding your clit with unerring precision. The rough pad of his thumb circled the sensitive bundle of nerves, his strokes deliberate and firm, perfectly synced with the roll of his hips. Your back arched off the tile, a broken cry tearing from your throat as pleasure coiled tight in your gut. Jungkookâs breath hitched, his thrusts turning uneven as he felt you flutter around him.
The water turned lukewarm before Jungkookâs pace faltered. His hips stuttered against yours, the tile biting into your shoulders as he pressed you deeper into the wall, his breath coming in ragged bursts against your throat. His fingersâstill slick from your cuntâdug into your hip hard enough to leave crescent marks as he muttered, "Gonna come," like it was a warning, not a plea.
You arched into him, the shower spray hitting your closed eyelids as you gasped, "Insideâ" just as his rhythm fractured completely. Jungkookâs groan was guttural, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he emptied himself into you with three sharp, uneven thrusts that made your toes curl against the porcelain.
For a heartbeat, the only sound was the showerâs spray and your mingled panting. Then Jungkookâs hands slid up your sidesâslow now, almost reverentâhis thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts through the soaked fabric of his shirt. "Fuck," he muttered, lips brushing your collarbone. The word was rough, but his touch was oddly gentle as he traced the red marks his teeth had left on your throat.
Outside the shower, the shopâs hydraulic lift whinedâa distant, mechanical groanâand Jungkookâs head snapped up. His gaze flicked to the fogged bathroom door, then back to you, his pupils still blown wide. "Jiminâs downstairs," he said, like you mightâve forgotten. His voice was hoarse, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watched water sluice down your chest.
The shower spray cooled against your flushed skin, but Jungkookâs body heat kept you anchoredâhis chest rising and falling against yours, his breath uneven where it ghosted over your parted lips. His fingers lingered at your waist, tracing idle patterns through the water beading on your skin, as if memorizing the topography of your hips.
"Youâre shaking," he murmured, his voice rougher than usualâwrecked in a way that made your stomach flip.
You werenât sure if it was from the cold or the aftershocks still rippling through you, but you didnât get a chance to answer. Jungkookâs palm slid up your spine, pressing you closer until your forehead bumped against his collarbone. His shirt clung to him like a second skin, the fabric translucent where it stretched over his pecs, and you could see the rapid flutter of his pulse beneath the damp material.
Downstairs, the shopâs hydraulic lift groaned again, followed by Jiminâs muffled curse. Jungkookâs jaw tightened, but he didnât moveâjust exhaled sharply through his nose before tilting your chin up with two fingers. "You good?"
The bathroom door swung open with a groan, letting in a rush of cooler air that cut through the steam. Jungkook didnât moveâjust kept you pinned against the tile, his thumb absently tracing the bruise forming on your hip. Jiminâs voice carried up from the shop floor, sharp with impatience. "Kook! Customerâs here for the Ducati."
Jungkookâs exhale was a warm gust against your temple. "Fuck," he muttered, his fingers flexing against your damp skin like he was debating whether to stay or go. The showerâs spray had cooled to a lukewarm trickle, but his body heat kept you anchored, the scent of his sweat and the shopâs motor oil clinging to his skin despite the water.
"You should go," you murmured, though your fingers curled into the soaked fabric of his shirt, holding him there.
His chuckle was dark, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Thatâs not what you said five minutes ago."
The water ran cold before Jungkook finally stepped back, his fingers lingering at your waist like he was reluctant to let go. Steam curled around his shoulders as he reached past you to shut off the faucet, the sudden silence ringing in your ears. His shirt clung to every ridge of muscle, the fabric gone nearly transparent under the spray, and you caught yourself staring at the way it stretched across his pecs when he turned to grab a towel.
"Eyes up here, doll," he murmured, tossing the towel at your chest with a smirk. His voice was still rough, but there was something softer in it nowâsomething that made your stomach flip.
You barely had time to catch the towel before Jungkook was crowding you again, his hands framing your face as he kissed you slow and deep, like he was savoring the taste of you. His thumbs brushed your cheekbones, gentle in a way that contrasted sharply with the bruising grip heâd had on your hips moments ago. When he pulled back, his lips were swollen, his pupils still blown wide. "Stay put," he muttered, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before stepping out of the shower.
The towel smelled like motor oil and Jungkookâthat sharp, metallic bite mixed with something warmer, earthier. You pressed it to your face for a second longer than necessary, breathing him in as water dripped from your hair onto the bathroom tiles. Outside, the shop noises filtered through the steam-fogged door: Jiminâs laugh, the clank of tools, the rumble of an engine coughing to life. Normal sounds. Mundane. Like what had just happened in this shower hadnât rearranged your entire nervous system.
Jungkookâs abandoned jeans lay in a soggy heap by the sink. You nudged them with your toe, your stomach swooping at the memory of how heâd shoved them down just enough to free himselfâhow the denim had scraped your thighs raw when he pinned you against the tile. The fabric was still warm from his body heat.
The bathroom mirror was fogged over, but you caught a glimpse of yourself in the sliver of clear glass near the sink. Your lips were swollen, your neck littered with bruises that stood out stark against your skin. Jungkookâs shirt clung to you like a second skin, the white fabric gone sheer under the shower spray. You looked wrecked. Owned.
A sharp rap on the door made you jump. "You alive in there?" Jiminâs voice was muffled but unmistakably amused.
You cleared your throat. "Yeah. Justâfinishing up."
Jiminâs laugh was bright, cutting through the steam still clinging to the bathroom. "Take your time. Kookâs downstairs growling at customers like a feral dog. Itâs hilarious."
You pressed the towel to your face, inhaling the scent of detergent and Jungkookâs sweat. The shop noises filtered through the doorâthe clang of a wrench against concrete, Jiminâs teasing drawl, the low rumble of Jungkookâs voice threading through it all like a bassline.
The floor was cold underfoot when you stepped out of the shower. Jungkook had left his hoodie hanging on the back of the doorâblack, frayed at the cuffs, smelling like motor oil and that same warm, earthy scent that clung to his skin. You pulled it on without thinking, the fabric swallowing you whole.
Downstairs, the Ducatiâs engine roared to life. You peered through the bathroom window, the glass streaked with condensation, and caught a glimpse of Jungkook straddling the bike, his bare arms flexing as he revved the throttle. Sunlight caught the ink winding down his forearmâa serpent coiled around a daggerâand for a second, he looked every bit the outlaw his cut claimed him to be.
Then he turned his head, as if sensing your gaze, and smirked.
The customerâa middle-aged man in a too-clean leather jacketâflinched when Jungkook stood, tossing the keys at Jimin instead. "Take it for a spin," he said, already striding toward the shopâs backstairs. "Needs new rear shocks."
Jiminâs grin was wicked. "Sure thatâs all that needs testing?"
Jungkook flipped him off without breaking stride. The stairs groaned under his boots, still damp from the shower, his shirt clinging to the ridges of his abs where he hadnât bothered to dry off properly. Steam curled off his skin as he shouldered the bathroom door open, his gaze zeroing in on you drowning in his hoodie, your hair dripping onto the frayed cuffs.
His thumb brushed a water droplet trailing down your neck. "Youâre still here."
It wasnât a question. His voice had that rough undercurrent again, the one that made your knees weak.
You shrugged, acutely aware of Jiminâs laughter drifting up from the shop floor. "Didnât say where to stay put."
The corner of Jungkookâs mouth twitched. He stepped closer, his bare feet silent on the tile. His shirtâyour shirt nowâslid off one shoulder when he reached past you to grab his jeans, his fingers lingering at the dip of your waist. "Smartass."
The word shouldâve sounded harsh. It didnât.
The hoodie sleeves swallowed your hands whole as you tugged them over your fingers, the fabric still warm from Jungkookâs body heat. He watched you with that same unreadable expressionâhalf amused, half something darkerâas he yanked on his jeans, the denim clinging to his damp thighs.
"Youâre stealing my clothes now?" he murmured, stepping close enough that his bare chest brushed the soaked front of his hoodie where it hung off your frame.
You shrugged, suddenly aware of how ridiculous you must lookâdripping wet, drowning in his clothes, smelling like his soap and the shopâs grease. "You told me to stay put. Didnât specify naked."
Jungkookâs laugh was low, his fingers hooking in the hoodieâs drawstrings to tug you closer. "Keep it," he said, his breath warm against your forehead. "Looks better on you anyway."
a/n: this bar/biker idea is inspired by E85 - by gguksprincess | but its different i swear
requests will be irregular because i sleep like a normal person (unlike him.)
do not copy, repost, or translate without permission.
