I Like What I Like.

The bedroom light is soft, casting warm shadows across the room as Jungkook stands before you, his work-roughened hands gentle as they cradle your face. You can still smell the faint trace of sawdust and sweat on his skin, a reminder of the long day he's put in at the construction site just to get home to you.

"Hey," he murmurs, his thumb tracing along your cheekbone. "You're nervous."

It's not a question. He knows you too well now, eight months of quiet dates and stolen kisses, of his patience never once wavering even when you'd pull away, even when you'd make excuses. He'd wait. He always waited.

You nod, unable to find your voice as you stand there, acutely aware of every inch of your body. The way your thighs press together, the soft curve of your belly beneath your shirt, the way you've always felt like you take up too much space.

Jungkook’s dark eyes hold yours, steady and sure. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"That you've been working all day," you whisper, reaching for his shirt, desperate to shift the focus. "You must be so tired. Let me—let me take care of you."

His lips quirk into that soft smile that makes your heart stutter. "Is that what you want? To take care of me?"

You nod eagerly, your fingers finding the hem of his shirt. He lets you pull it up, lets you reveal the hard plane of his chest, the tan skin dusted with a light sheen of sweat. He's beautiful. All lean muscle and strength built from honest labor.

"You're so good to me," you breathe, more to yourself than to him.

"Am I?" His hands settle on your hips, warm and grounding. "Because I've been thinking about this all day. About you. About finally getting to see all of you."

Your breath catches. Your fingers curl into his shoulders, nails pressing into his skin. "Jk, I'm—I'm not—"

"I know what you are." His voice dips lower, rougher, and his grip on your hips tightens just enough to make you feel it. "You're my girl. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And I've been patient, baby. So patient. But I need you to trust me now."

The words settle in your chest, warm and heavy. You want to trust him. God, you want to.

"Can I undress you?" he asks, and the request, the softness of it, undoes something inside you.

You nod.

His hands find the hem of your shirt, and he lifts it slowly. Deliberately. Like he's unwrapping something precious. The fabric slides up over your stomach, your ribs, and you have to fight the urge to cover yourself, to curl inward. But his eyes never leave yours, never drop to judge.

When the shirt clears your head, he folds it carefully, sets it aside, and finally lets his gaze travel down your body.

And what you see in his expression isn't disgust or disappointment. It's hunger. Pure, raw hunger.

"Look at you," he breathes. His hands come up to cup your sides, thumbs tracing the swell of your hips. "So fucking soft. So beautiful."

"Koo—"

"Let me touch you." It's not really a question this time. His hands slide around to your back, finding the clasp of your bra. "Tell me if you want me to stop."

You can't speak. You can only nod, and that's enough.

The bra falls away, and the air hits your skin, makes your nipples tighten. Jungkook’s breath hitches as he looks at you, bare before him, and his hands come up to cup your heavy breasts, thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks.

"God," he rasps. "So full. So perfect. These are mine now, aren't they?"

You whimper, your hips shifting forward of their own accord. "Yes."

He squeezes gently, and the sensation shoots straight through you, pooling hot and heavy in your belly. "That's right. All of you is mine. And I'm going to take such good care of you."

His mouth finds yours then, deep and consuming, and his hands never stop moving. They slide down your sides, over the swell of your hips, gripping your ass with a possessiveness that makes you gasp against his lips.

"When I think about you," he says between kisses, "about how patient you've been, how sweet you've been, letting me court you for six whole months—I've wanted to ruin you, baby. I've wanted to take you apart piece by piece."

"Then do it," you breathe, and the words shock even you.

He pulls back, his eyes dark, pupils blown wide. "Say that again."

"Take me apart. I want you to."

Something shifts in his expression. The softness is still there, but now there's an edge to it, a control he's barely holding onto. He guides you backward until your knees hit the bed, until you're sinking into the mattress, looking up at him.

He follows you down, bracing himself above you, and the weight of his body, the heat of him, makes you feel small for the first time in your life.

"I'm going to go slow," he says, his lips brushing against your throat. "I'm going to kiss every inch of you, and I want you to feel it. Every. Single. Touch."

His mouth traces a path down your neck, over your collarbone, and when he takes your nipple into his mouth, you arch up with a sharp cry. He laves at it, sucks gently, and his hand finds the other, rolling the sensitive peak between his calloused fingers.

"So responsive," he murmurs against your skin. "So perfect for me. You have no idea what you do to me."

Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him there as he worships your chest, alternating between soft licks and harder sucks that leave you gasping. His free hand slides down your stomach, over the curve of your belly, and you tense for just a moment.

He notices. Of course he notices.

"Don't," he says, lifting his head to meet your eyes. "Don't hide from me. Not now. Not ever."

"Koo... you work so hard, and I just... I want to make you feel good too."

A low sound rumbles in his chest. "You make me feel good just by letting me touch you. Just by being here, soft and beautiful and mine."

His hand continues its journey, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants, fingers sliding through the slick heat he finds there. He groans.

"So wet," he breathes. "Is this all for me?"

All you can do is nod, your hips bucking into his touch as his fingers find your clit, circling slowly.

"Good girl," he murmurs, and the praise washes over you like warm water. "My perfect, good girl. You've been waiting so long, haven't you? Let me take care of you now."

His fingers work you with expert precision, sliding lower to press inside you, one finger, then two, stretching you slowly while his thumb continues its assault on your clit. You're gasping, crying out, your nails raking down his back.

"That's it," he says, his voice strained. "Let go for me. I've got you."

And you do. The orgasm crashes over you like a wave, pulling you under, and Jungkook works you through it, his mouth finding yours to swallow your cries.

When you come back to yourself, he's kissing your forehead, your cheeks, your nose.

"Good," he whispers. "So good. But we're not done yet."

You watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he strips off his pants, revealing his hard length, thick and ready. Your mouth waters.

"Let me—" you start, reaching for him.

He catches your wrist, presses a kiss to your palm. "Later. For our first time, I want to be inside you. I want to feel you around me. I want to please you.”

He settles between your thighs, and you can feel him against your entrance, hot and insistent. He pauses, meeting your eyes.

"Tell me you want this."

"I want this. I want you."

He pushes in slowly, inch by inch, stretching you in the most delicious way. Your hands grip his shoulders, your breath coming in short gasps as he fills you completely.

"Fuck," he groans, his forehead dropping to yours. "You feel... you're so tight. So perfect."

He stays there for a moment, letting you adjust, his hips pressed flush against yours, his body a warm weight above you.

"You can move," you whisper.

And he does. He rocks into you with slow, deep thrusts, each one hitting that perfect spot inside you, making you see stars. His hand finds yours, fingers interlacing, pressing your palm into the mattress beside your head.

"Look at me," he commands softly, and you do. His eyes are locked on yours, vulnerable and fierce all at once. "You're doing so well. Taking me so beautifully. I could stay inside you forever."

Your hips rise to meet his, matching his rhythm, and the sounds you make are obscene, wet and slapping, mixed with your breathless moans and his guttural groans.

"Close," he warns. "Where do you want it?"

"Inside," you beg. "Please, Koo. I want to feel you."

His hips snap harder, faster, and he buries himself deep with a final, shuddering groan, spilling into you with a string of curses that sound like prayers.

He collapses against you, his face buried in your neck, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. Your arms wrap around him, holding him close, and you feel the stickiness between your thighs, the evidence of his desire, and for the first time in your life, you don't feel too big.

You feel perfect.

"I love you," he murmurs against your skin. "Every inch of you. Don't ever doubt that."

Your eyes sting with tears. "I love you too."

He lifts his head, catching the tear that escapes with his thumb. "None of that. Only smiles. You're mine, and I'm yours, and we have all the time in the world to figure out how good this can be."

He kisses you softly, and when he pulls away, there's a playful glint in his eye.

"Now. About that mouth of yours..."

Perm taglist : @kimmynammy @celliez (comment or ask to be added)

The next morning hits like a hangover he didn’t earn.

Haechan shows up twenty minutes early — unheard of — coffee in one hand, hood pulled low and zipped to the chin. He's already snapping at the lighting guy before the man even opens his mouth.

“Move the key light three inches left. It’s going to wash her out. Again.”

The crew exchanges glances. He’s always been sharp, but today he’s mean.

Snapping at the sound guy for a mic that’s “too hot,” telling makeup to “Don’t overdo her lips today. I don’t want them looking bitten on camera” when they’re literally just glossed.

Everyone chalks it up to a bad night.

Only Haechan knows the truth: he spent the entire night replaying your orgasm on loop, coming twice more in the shower just trying to get you out of his system.

It didn’t work.

He’s halfway through giving notes to a PA when—

You laugh.

Soft. Bright. Somewhere behind him.

He goes still.

His eyes snap to you before he can stop them.

You’re standing near the monitors, robe loose, hair still a little messy from sleep with that same soft, nervous-excited smile you had yesterday. You wave at the crew, thank them again for the compliments.

For a second, he just watches.

Then your eyes flick up.

You catch him staring.

You hold it—just long enough to feel intentional.

His grip tightens around the coffee cup.

He looks away first. Too fast. Clears his throat. “Places in ten.”

–

The scene today is POV. Simple setup: male talent (thank fuck it’s not Chad this time) on his back, you riding him, camera mounted to mimic his view. Intimate. Close. Lots of eye contact, body rolls, hands on hips/thighs/waist for leverage. The kind of shot that sells “connection”.

Haechan hates it already.

He calls action. You climb onto the bed, robe slipping off your shoulders, skin glowing under the soft ring lights. The actor’s hands find your waist immediately—professional, practiced.

You sink down slowly, taking him inch by inch until you’re fully seated on his cock, a soft, involuntary moan slipping out as the stretch hits just right.

You start slow, grinding down in lazy circles, head tipping back on a breathy moan that’s half-scripted, half-real.

Haechan’s staring at the monitor like it personally offended him.

Except he doesn’t look away.

His jaw tightens as the feed fills with you—every shift of your hips, every soft expression.

It’s wrong. It’s his job to watch, to adjust, to make it look good.

But there’s a split second, buried under all of that, where it hits him differently—heat curling low in his stomach, sharp and unwanted.

It should be him.

The thought arrives before he can stop it.

Followed immediately by something uglier—the actor's hands on your waist, thumbs pressing into skin that Haechan can almost feel in his own palms.

He doesn't say anything. Obviously. He just grips his coffee harder than it needs to and watches you move, hating every second of how much he can’t look away.

“Camera’s too high,” he mutters. Then louder: “Cut. Reset.”

The crew groans internally. Second take, not even thirty seconds in.

You sit back on your heels, confused but obedient. Your co-actor slides out carefully.

Haechan stands and walks over. The set goes quiet.

“I need to adjust you,” he says, voice coming out rough. “The angle’s off. You’re blocking the shot.”

He’s lying.

The angle’s fine.

He just… needs to touch you. Once. Just once. To see if it’s as bad as he remembers from yesterday’s guiding scene.

You nod. “Okay.”

He steps between your parted thighs—still kneeling on the bed, robe open just enough that he can see the curve of your stomach, the dip of your waist. He doesn’t look down. Not yet.

His hands hover for half a second, then settle.

Left palm on your hip bone. Right on the soft dip above your waist.

The second his fingertips meet your skin, something in his brain short-circuits.

Soft.

Warm.

Giving under his grip like you were made to be held. Your skin is velvet-smooth, still carrying that faint post-shower heat, and when you shift slightly to give him better access, the flesh yields just enough to make his thumbs dig in involuntarily.

Fuck, she feels like this?

He’s touched hundreds of bodies on set. Guided hands, adjusted poses, repositioned limbs like they were props. Never once did it feel like this—like electricity arcing straight to his cock. Never once did his pulse hammer in his ears just from palms on hips.

He slides his hands lower—slow, “professional”—fingers splaying over the tops of your thighs. soft, thick, trembling just a little under his touch. He presses gently, spreading them wider for the camera (bullshit excuse), and your breath hitches. Tiny. Barely audible.

But he hears it.

His thumbs stroke once—once—along the inner curve of your thigh. Not high enough to be inappropriate. Just enough to feel the heat radiating from your core, close enough that he can smell your skin, your faint vanilla lotion, the ghost of arousal that’s already there.

You’re looking up at him. Eyes wide, lips parted. Not acting.

He’s losing it.

Mentally he’s already flipped you onto your back, spread you wide, buried his face between those thighs until you’re crying his name.

Physically, he’s still just…

Adjusting.

Hands shaking now. He can feel the tremor in his own fingers and prays you don’t notice.

“Like this,” he rasps, voice so low it’s almost a growl. He rolls your hips forward a fraction—guiding the motion you’ll use later—making your body arch just so. The movement drags your skin against his palms again, plush and perfect, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning.

Your thighs flex under his grip. A soft exhale escapes you.

He freezes.

For one heartbeat, neither of you moves.

Then he forces his hands away. Steps back like he’s been burned.

“Better,” he mutters. “That’s… better.”

He turns to the crew before anyone can see how blown his pupils are. “Roll it again.”

He drops back into his chair, legs crossed to hide the obvious bulge straining against his jeans. One hand scrubs over his face. The other fists on his thigh so hard it’ll bruise.

On the monitor, you start moving again—hips rolling exactly the way he just positioned you. Slow. Sensual. Eyes flicking to him every few seconds like you’re checking if he approves.

He approves.

He approves so much he might come in his pants if you keep looking at him like that.

And the shoot’s only just started.

The cameras are rolling again. Reset complete. The POV rig is mounted—sleek, invasive, positioned right where your co-actor’s eyes would be if this were real. It captures everything from below: the slow roll of your hips, the bounce of your breasts, the way your thighs flex around his waist as you sink down inch by inch.

Haechan is back in his chair but his posture is rigid now, his fingers digging into the armrests. He’s trying—God, he’s trying—to be the detached professional. Voice steady. Directions clipped. But every word comes out rougher than the last.

“Action.”

You start moving. Slow grinds at first, building rhythm. Your co-actor’s hands rest on your hips—light, guiding. You lean back just enough for the camera to catch the arch of your back, the sway of your body.

Haechan’s eyes are glued to the monitor feed. The POV angle fills the screen: your face hovering close, lips parted, eyes locked straight down the lens. Straight at him.

He swallows hard.

“Eyes on the camera,” he directs, voice low but carrying. “Hold it. Make it feel like you’re looking right at them. Right at me—at the viewer.”

He means the viewer. He swears he means the viewer.

But the way you obey—immediately, intensely—your gaze piercing the lens like it’s his face instead. The way your lashes flutter when you sink down — just once, involuntary, like even you can't help it.

It wrecks him. Through the screen. Through every layer of professionalism he's clinging to.

You ride harder now. Hips circling, rolling, taking your co-actor deeper. Soft moans spill out, breathier than yesterday, less controlled. Your hands brace against his chest for leverage as your back arches, head tipping just enough for your hair to fall over one shoulder.

Haechan shifts in his seat, but the friction against his aching cock makes his vision blur at the edges.

“Hands up,” he says, sharper than he means to. “Grip her—firm. Support her rhythm. Make it look possessive—” He cuts himself off, jaw tightening. “Just keep her steady.”

Your co-actor obeys instantly. His palms slide up your sides, cupping your breasts—thumbs brushing the undersides before he squeezes gently, holding you steady as you bounce.

The monitor shows it all in perfect, filthy detail: the way your tits fill his hands, the subtle give of soft flesh under his fingers, the way your nipples visibly tighten at the contact.

Your mouth falls open on a gasp—real and unscripted, your eyes locked on the camera.

Never leaving him.

Haechan’s breath stutters. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, staring so hard the rest of the room fades out. Onscreen, you move like you’re chasing something just out of reach—hips rolling, body tightening, every motion sharper than the last.

And those eyes.

Fixed. Wanting. Burning straight through the lens.

A groan almost slips out. He catches it at the last second—turns it into a cough, hand flying to his mouth. The crew doesn’t notice. Or if they do, they don’t say shit.

Inside, though—

He’s coming apart.

Fuck.

Look at her.

Taking it so well. Moving like that…

For the camera.

For me.

He can’t stop the thoughts.

They come fast and hot, one bleeding into the next— imagining those are his hands instead—kneading, pinching, rolling your nipples until you’re whining his name. Imagining it’s his cock you’re riding, your walls tightening around him, your eyes locked on his like it’s always been him.

“Keep the pace,” he rasps, voice catching on the last word. “Don’t speed up yet. Build it. Let her feel every inch.”

You listen.

Slow, deliberate rolls that make your thighs tremble. The actor's grip tightens, thumbs circling your nipples, and you arch into it with a soft, helpless whine that hits Haechan straight square in the chest.

His free hand drops to his thigh. Fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.

He's rock hard. Has been for the last ten minutes. The denim isn't hiding anything anymore and he knows it and he can't bring himself to care because every roll of your hips on that monitor feels like it's happening to him. Every moan sounds like it's for him.

Then your eyes flick — subtle, barely a second — right to where he's sitting behind the monitor.

Just for a second.

But it’s enough.

He bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood.

“Perfect,” he mutters, barely audible. “Just… fucking perfect.”

The take keeps going.

You keep looking at the camera like it’s him. He keeps watching like he’s the one buried inside you.

And he knows—deep in his aching, throbbing core—that he’s not making it through this shoot without losing it.

Not when you’re like this.

Not when it feels like you’re fucking him through the lens.

And then—

“I’m gonna cum.”

Soft. Broken. Barely above a whisper but the mics catch every syllable.

Cameras still rolling. Your hips still grinding down slow and filthy. Eyes still locked on the lens.

On him.

Wait—

Was that line in the script?

He can't remember. The script is a blur he barely glanced at because all he could think about was you — your skin under his palms earlier, your thighs trembling when he spread them, the way your breath hitched when his thumbs drifted just a little too close to where he really wanted to touch.

He doesn’t know if you’re acting.

He doesn’t know if you’re telling the crew.

He only knows you're looking straight through the camera — straight through the POV rig — straight into his eyes like the lens doesn't exist. Like there’s no crew, no fucking monitors. Just the two of you in this dimly-lit room.

Just him buried inside you.

Just him feeling every clench as you chase that edge.

“Keep going.”

His voice comes out wrecked—rougher than he’s ever let it sound on set.

It’s supposed to be a direction.

It doesn’t sound like it.

“Keep going,” he repeats, quieter this time, leaning so far forward the chair creaks. “Don’t stop. Ride it out. Let it build… let it happen.”

The crew thinks he’s talking to both of you.

He’s not.

He’s talking to you.

Telling you to keep moving like this—slow, deep, greedy—until you break.

On the monitor, the POV feed is unforgiving.

Your face fills half the frame— eyes glassy and pleading, lips parted. Your thighs shaking harder now, rhythm faltering as you get close.

You whimper — higher, needier.

“Haechan—”

His name.

Not scripted. Not “director.”

Just him.

Gasped out like a secret. Like a prayer.

His grip white-knuckles the armrest.

On screen you arch back, spine pulling into that perfect, filthy curve. Your hips stutter, grind down once—twice—and then—

You come.

For real.

Again.

Your body locks up, walls clenching tight, thighs snapping shut around your co-actor’s waist as a broken sound tears out of you. Your whole body trembles through it, shaking and helpless.

And still—

You don’t look away.

Your eyes stay locked on the lens. On him.

Tears gather at the corners, your expression wrecked from how intense it is, but you don’t blink. Don’t break.

Like you’re coming for him.

In his head, it’s his cock.

Has been since the second you said his name.

He can almost feel it — the way you'd flutter around him, chasing every last pulse while he holds your hips down and makes you take it. His mouth against your ear, voice barely above a whisper: "There you go. Just like that." — while your nails rake down his back and your mouth falls open on his name again and again.

On the monitor, you’re still riding it out—small, helpless rolls of your hips, soft whimpers fading into shaky breaths. The actor's still moving, chasing his scripted finish, but Haechan stopped seeing him a long time ago.

Only you.

The way your lips tremble like you want to say something else. Something that isn't in the script.

He's shaking.

Actually shaking in his chair.

"Cut," he rasps.

The set comes back to life. Crew members move in, lights shifting, someone calling out for water.

Haechan doesn’t move.

He stares at the frozen frame on the monitor — your face, blissed out, eyes still half-lidded and aimed exactly where he's sitting. Like even after the word "cut" you're still looking at him.

Still waiting.

He drags a hand down his face.

He has never come this close to breaking on set. Never once.

Never been this close to saying fuck the cameras, fuck the crew, fuck the rules—and just taking what’s felt like his since the moment you walked onto his set.

But he stays seated.

For now.

Because if he stands up right now everyone in this room will know exactly what you did to him.

And because he knows—deep in that aching, throbbing part of him—that the second this shoot wraps…

He’s not making it through another conversation with you without snapping.

—

The crew wraps fast—lights clicking off one by one, someone shouting about the boom mic, laughter echoing down the hall as people start heading out. You linger near the set, robe tied tight, skin still flushed and buzzing from the last take. Your thighs ache in the best-worst way.

But all you can think about is Haechan.

He's already moving — hoodie up, head down, fast and purposeful like he's trying to disappear. No goodbye. No "great work." Just gone, same as yesterday.

Something twists in your chest.

You follow before you can talk yourself out of it. Bare feet quiet against the cold floor, heart pounding so loud you’re sure he’ll hear it before you even reach him.

He slips into one of the side rooms—the green room no one uses because the AC’s broken and it always smells faintly like old coffee. Door half-open. You hesitate, then knock softly.

“Come in,” he mutters, voice tight. Distracted.

You push the door open.

He’s pacing. Three steps forward, three back. Hand dragging over his face,  hoodie shoved low, hair a mess underneath. His breathing’s uneven, his shoulders are rigid, jaw clenched so tight you can see the muscle jump. Like he's one wrong word away from snapping.

You swallow. “Um… Haechan?”

He freezes mid-step. Doesn't turn around.

You take a small step inside. "I just wanted to ask about my performance. Was it… okay? The last take — I know I went off-script a little. The moaning and… saying your name. I thought it worked for the scene but if it was bad I can—"

“Stop.”

Sharp.

Too sharp.

You flinch.

He exhales hard through his nose, hand dragging through his hair. "I need to be alone right now. Just… go."

The words hit cold.

Your throat tightens. You nod, quick and small. "Oh. Okay. Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

You turn to leave, shoulders curling in, feeling suddenly small and stupid. Of course he didn’t want to talk. Of course—

Behind you, he makes a strangled sound—half groan, half curse.

“Wait.”

You freeze. Hand still on the door.

He’s right behind you now.

You didn’t even hear him move.

He's just — there, close enough that you can smell sweat and cologne and something underneath both that makes your brain go quiet.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, quieter now. Rough. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

You don’t turn right away. Can’t.

Your voice comes out small. “You sounded like you hate me.”

A beat of silence so thick it hurts.

“I don’t hate you,” he says, voice low, strained. “Not even a little.”

You finally look at him.

His jaw is tight, eyes cutting away then back, like he keeps making a decision and unmaking it. Like whatever's happening behind his face is costing him something.

"Then why…?"

He lets out a short, humorless laugh, dragging both hands down his face again.

“Because I’m trying not to lose my fucking mind right now. And every time you’re in the same room as me, I—” He cuts himself off, jaw ticking. “You did good. You did too good. That’s the problem.”

Your heart slams against your ribs. “Too good?”

He steps closer.

Not touching. Never touching.

But close enough that you have to tilt your head back to meet his eyes. Close enough that you can see the tension in his arms, fists clenched at his sides.

“Yeah,” he mutters. “Too good. Too real. Too fucking perfect. You came on camera—twice now—like that, looking right at me, saying my name like it’s the only word you know, and I’m supposed to just… direct?” He exhales sharply. “Pretend it doesn't affect me? Pretend I'm not sitting there so hard it hurts, trying not to come in my jeans while the whole crew thinks it's just another day?"

Your breath catches.

He keeps going, voice dropping. "You have no idea what you do to me. How many times I've had to walk away so I don't drag you off that set and finish what you started. And then you come in here asking if you did a bad job?"

He exhales, sharp. "Fuck, baby. You almost killed me out there."

The pet name slips out before he can stop it.

His eyes widen a fraction — like he heard it too — but he doesn't take it back.

You’re shaking now. Not from the cold.

“I thought…” Your voice wavers. “I thought I ruined it. Or that you were mad.”

He shakes his head slowly. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at myself. For wanting this. For wanting you.”

His throat bobs once.

“For not being able to look away when you fall apart like that.”

Silence stretches between you.

He's so close now his hoodie brushes your robe. You can feel the heat of him everywhere — chest, thighs, everywhere.

"I should go," you whisper, even though your feet won't move.

"You should," he agrees, voice rough. But he doesn't step back. Doesn't open the door wider.

Instead, his hand lifts—slow, hesitant—and hovers near your cheek. Not touching. Just… there. Fingers trembling like he’s holding himself back by a thread.

“But I don’t want you to.”

Your eyes close for a second.

When you open them, he’s still there. Still looking at you like that.

"Tell me to stop," he says quietly. "Tell me to fuck off, and I will. If you don't want this I'll back off. I swear I will." His voice dips. "But if you don't…"

He lets it trail off.

Let it sit there between you—promise and warning all at once.

The air feels too thick to breathe.

You don’t tell him to leave.

You don't move at all.

And that's all the answer he needs.

The room feels smaller now. Air thick with everything unsaid.

Haechan's still standing too close, hoodie brushing your robe, hand hovering near your cheek like he's afraid one wrong move will break whatever this is.

Your eyes drop.

Land on the small damp spot already darkening the denim.

Your breath catches audibly.

He follows your line of sight—and freezes.

Color rushes up his neck, his ears, his cheeks — he looks caught, exposed, like you just found something he's been hiding for hours.

Which you have.

You swallow. Your voice comes out small, shy, almost disbelieving.

"Is that… because of me?"

A small pause. Eyes flicking back up to his.

"I did that?"

Haechan exhales sharply. His Adam's apple bobs. He doesn't look away — can't — and his voice cracks when he answers.

"Yeah."

Just that.

No excuses. No deflection.

“Yeah, baby. You did that.”

The pet name slips again, softer this time. Careful. Like he’s testing it. His eyes search yours like he's waiting for you to bolt.

You don’t.

Instead your knees hit the floor.

A soft thud against the carpet.

You're eye level with his hips now, close enough to see the way his thighs flex when he shifts slightly. Hands hovering uncertainly just above his thighs. Not quite touching.

Haechan jolts. Hands fly up like he’s going to stop you—then stall midair.

“What—what are you doing?” His voice is strangled, panicked. But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t step back. His legs stay planted, breath coming faster, cock twitching visibly under the fabric like it’s begging for attention.

You look up at him.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, and it almost sounds real. "I didn't mean to make you this hard. It must've been so difficult. Trying to direct like that. All day."

A strangled sound leaves him—half laugh, half something rougher.

"Difficult doesn't even—" He cuts himself off the second your fingers brush the button of his jeans.

You don't ask permission. You just do it.

Button pops. Zipper rasps down slow, loud in the quiet room. You tug the waistband down with it.

He sucks in a sharp breath.

You don’t look away.

You gasp—quiet, involuntary. Eyes widening, lips parting.

He’s… bigger than you expected. Thick, flushed, the curve of him making your stomach drop as you take it in.

Haechan makes a broken noise in the back of his throat. One hand shoots to the doorframe, knuckles going white. The other hovers near your head—like he wants to thread his fingers through your hair but doesn’t trust himself not to pull.

“Fuck—wait—”

Too late.

You lean forward and take him into your mouth.

No teasing. Just warm, wet heat enveloping the head, tongue flat against the underside as you sink down on the first go.

Haechan actually stumbles a little at the feeling of it.

"Shit — oh my god —" His voice cracks, hips jerking forward before he catches himself. Hand finally lands in your hair — not pulling, just holding, trembling. "Baby — fuck — you don't have to —"

But you do.

You hum around him — and the vibration makes his whole body shudder. You pull back slow, lips dragging, tongue swirling around the head before sinking down again. Deeper this time. Cheeks hollowing. Hand wrapping around what your mouth can't reach, stroking in time.

He’s already losing it. Head tipped back against the door, eyes squeezed shut like the sight of you on your knees might actually kill him.

"You — fuck — You’re gonna fucking ruin me," he rasps. "Been hard for you since yesterday… and now this—fuck—”"

You pull off just enough to speak, lips brushing the tip.

"I'm sorry it was hard for you." A soft kiss. "Let me make it better."

Then you take him again — deeper, faster, throat relaxing as you work him with everything you've got.

“Fuck—good girl—such a good girl—”

His grip tightens. Hips start to rock — shallow, helpless thrusts he can't stop. Low, broken moans spill out of him.

He’s close. You can feel it in the way his body tenses, the way his thighs shake, the way his breath stutters like he’s trying to warn you and can’t get it out in time.

“Baby—I’m—fuck—I’m gonna—”

You don't pull off.

You take him deeper.

Suck harder.

Look up at him with those same wide eyes you gave the camera all day.

And that's what breaks him.

Haechan comes with a strangled groan—hips snapping forward, cock pulsing hot and thick down your throat as he spills. You swallow around him, throat working, not spilling a drop.

He's trembling when it's over. Hand still fisted gently in your hair, thumb stroking your cheek like he’s trying to calm himself down.

You pull off slowly. Lips swollen and eyes glassy.

And he just… stares.

Like he doesn’t know what to do with what just happened.

"Fuck," he breathes. "You're unreal."

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, suddenly shy again. "Did that… help?"

He lets out a weak, disbelieving laugh and drops to his knees so you're face to face. Cups your jaw in both hands, thumbs brushing your swollen lips.

Then he kisses you — hard, desperate, tasting himself on your tongue like he's claiming every second of what just happened.

The door's still unlocked.

The crew's still somewhere in the building.

But right now?

None of that exists.

Only this.

The kiss starts desperate — hands cupping your face like you're something about to vanish if he lets go.

He pulls you up from your knees in one smooth motion, body flush against his, and walks you backward until the small table catches the backs of your thighs. Lifts you onto it without breaking the kiss.

Your legs part around him instinctively. Robe falling completely open, skin cold against the surface while he presses in close.

He groans into your mouth the second he feels how wet you are — how slick your thighs still are from earlier.

“Fuck.”

The sound gets swallowed by your mouth as he kisses you harder, tongue against yours, messy and desperate. One hand tangles in your hair while the other slides down your side—finally, finally touching without cameras, without excuses, without pretending any of this is professional anymore.

"Been wanting this since the second you walked on set. Wanted to touch you. Taste you. Make you come for me instead." A pause, voice dropping to almost nothing. "Not some lens. Not some script. Me."

He drops to his knees so fast it almost hurts — kneecaps hitting the floor, hands gripping your thighs, spreading them wider.

He goes still for a second.

Just — looks.

Like he's been starving for this exact view and now that he has it, he doesn't know where to start.

Then he dives in.

No buildup. No teasing.

Just his mouth on you like he's been thinking about nothing else all day.

The first drag of his tongue against your clit makes your whole body jolt, your hips jerk off the table before you can stop them.

You gasp sharply, fingers flying into his hair. He moans into you. Loud. Unashamed. Like he's the one being taken apart, the vibration making your thighs shake harder around his head.

His tongue flicked against your clit relentlessly while his nose stayed pressed against your mound, buried so deep between your thighs it was like he never wanted to come up for air.

"Fuck." He groans, hot and muffled against your folds. "You taste so good."

He pulls back just enough to bite down on the inside of your thigh — not hard, just enough to feel it. Just to hear the sound you make. Then licks over the sting before burying himself back in.

His hands slide under your thighs to pull you closer to the edge of the table, lifting, tilting your hips so he can get deeper — and then his tongue is inside you, curling, and you cry out sharp enough that you slap a hand over your own mouth.

His nose nudges against your clit while his tongue pushes deeper, dragging another broken sound from your throat before he comes back up to suck your clit between his lips slow enough to make your whole body shake.

And every time you react—every twitch of your hips, every pull at his hair, every helpless little sound—he moans against you again, hands tightening on your thighs like it’s getting him off too.

“Look at you,” he rasps, pulling back just enough to speak. His lips are wet, chin shining under the light, eyes completely blown. “Moaning like that for me. Fuck, baby—come on my tongue. Let me feel it.”

He dives back in.

Two fingers slide inside you, curling deep enough to make your back arch off the table while his mouth stays locked on your clit, sucking in a messy rhythm with every thrust of his hand.

You stop trying to stay quiet. You’re loud now—completely unable to stop it. Gasps turning into broken cries of his name.

“Haechan—oh god—”

He whines against you. Actually whines.

His hips jerk uselessly against nothing, cock hard again already, but he doesn’t touch himself once. Doesn’t seem to care. All he cares about is the way your thighs lock around his head like you never want him to stop.

Every reaction you give him only makes him groan louder against your skin, hands tightening around your thighs like he’s getting drunk off this.

"That's it," he growls, voice vibrating against your clit. "Come for me. Come on my face."

And you do.

Harder than on set. Harder than anything.

Your whole body locks up with it, thighs tightening around his head as a sob rips out of your throat, back arching while you pulse around his fingers.

He doesn’t stop—keeps going, moaning against you like he’s the one coming, still licking through every aftershock like he can't make himself stop.

When you finally slump back, trembling, chest heaving, he pulls away slow.

Lips swollen. Face a mess. Eyes glassy and dark and so blissed out it almost hurts to look at.

He rests his forehead against your inner thigh.

Breathing hard. Pressing soft, reverent kisses to your skin like he's grateful.

"Jesus," he whispers, voice hoarse. "I could do this forever."

He looks up at you with this dazed little smile that somehow feels filthier than anything he’s said so far.

"But we're not done."

His hands slide up your sides.

"Not even close."

He rises slowly from his knees, hands sliding up the backs of your thighs, lifting you just enough to keep your legs around his waist.

Then he’s kissing you again.

Harder this time. Messier. Tongue pushing into your mouth so you can taste yourself on him, and the second you do, your stomach twists. You make this pathetic little sound into the kiss, fingers digging into his shoulders, and he groans back like the sound alone could finish him off.

“Fuck,” he mutters against your lips, voice rough. “You taste so good.”

You can barely think straight after that.

One hand braces against the table beside you while the other reaches down between your bodies, guiding himself against you. He’s still hard—still twitching from your mouth earlier, from watching you come apart on his tongue.

He wraps a hand around himself and slowly drags the tip between your folds, collecting the slick already dripping out of you. The accidental brush against your clit made you whimper.

The head of his cock catches at your entrance.

He presses forward just enough to part your folds, the blunt head stretching your entrance slightly before he stops.

You look at him and his eyes are already on yours, dark and intense enough to make heat crawl up your neck all over again.

No words. Just that heavy, burning stare — like he's memorizing you. Every flicker across your face. Every breath.

Then he pushes in.

Slow.

So fucking slow.

Inch by thick inch, stretching you open, filling you until your breath hitches and your nails bite into his hoodie.

And he keeps looking at you.

Doesn’t look away once.

He watches the way your brows pinch when he bottoms out — the way your mouth falls open, the soft sound you make when he settles deep inside you.

One hand pinning your thigh wider, exposing you fully as he watches his cock disappear into your dripping cunt. The sight alone — his cock splitting your swollen lips, veins dragging against your inner walls — makes his grip tighten against your skin.

“Fuck,” he breathes.

His voice actually shakes a little.

“Look at you.”

Heat floods straight to your face.

“Taking me so well.”

He stays buried inside you for a long moment, like he’s letting himself feel it. Letting you feel it too.

Then he starts to move.

Slow at first. Pulling back just enough before thrusting deep again, hips rolling instead of snapping, grinding against every sensitive spot until your legs start trembling around him.

His forehead presses against yours, breaths mixing together, and when you look up at him, he’s already staring.

“You feel that?” he whispers.

Another slow thrust.

“That’s me.”

Your stomach twists hard.

“Inside you. Finally.”

You can’t even answer properly. Just nod helplessly and cling to him while your hips keep chasing him without meaning to.

He kisses you again, messy and deep, before pulling back just enough to look at you.

“Eyes on me,” he murmurs.

The same words he gave you on set. But this time there's no camera. No crew. No pretending. 

“Don’t look away. I want to see every second of you cumming on my cock.”

He pulls back an inch, the drag of his cock along your walls making your breath catch, before pushing deeper again. The stretch hits harder this time, enough to make your legs tense around him, your pussy fluttering helplessly as he sinks halfway back in.

Every thrust knocks another broken sound out of you. The wet squelch of your soaked folds taking him echoes through the room while his hips keep rocking into yours, deep enough to leave you trembling around his waist.

And every time he bottoms out, the grind against your clit pulls another helpless sound from your throat.

Sweat slips down his skin, warm against your chest, and you lock your legs tighter around his waist, pulling him even closer.

One of his hands slides between your bodies, thumb finding your clit in slow, firm circles, pleasure cutting through the fullness hard enough to make your whole body jerk. The other stays at the back of your neck, keeping you close.

Your body responds instantly, hips lifting to meet every thrust as the rhythm builds into something hotter, steadier. The fullness turns almost dizzying, every slow plunge hitting that sweet spot and making your walls flutter around him.

You’re already shaking.

Still sensitive from his mouth. Still completely full of him.

“Haechan—”

His name comes out embarrassingly wrecked.

“Yeah?” he groans immediately, hips stuttering for the first time. “Say it again.”

Your whole world narrows to the sounds between you — the sharp smack of skin, the wet slide every time he thrusts back into you, your broken moans mixing with his rough breathing.

The pressure inside you snaps so suddenly it almost scares you.

Your whole body tightens around him as you come with his name on your lips, vision blurring at the edges from how intense it is. Your thighs lock around his waist, and he lets out this wrecked sound like he can feel every pulse of you.

And he watches every second.

Like he can’t look away even if he wants to.

The way your body arches toward him like he’s gravity itself.

That’s what pushes him over.

He buries himself deep one last time and comes with a low, broken moan, hips twitching against yours while he rides through it. Even after, he stays close, staring at you like he’s still trying to process what just happened.

He doesn’t pull out.

The small room still smells faintly of coffee and sex, the air thick and warm from everything you’ve already done.

Haechan catches his breath against your neck, pressing soft, lazy kisses along your collarbone like he’s still savoring the taste of your skin. Then he pulls back just enough to look at you.

His eyes are dark. Still hungry.

One hand slides under your thigh while the other braces at your waist before he lifts you off the table in one smooth motion. Your legs wrap around him instinctively, ankles locking behind his back as he carries you across the room.

The movement makes you feel every inch of him still buried inside you, deep enough to pull a shaky breath from your lungs, and Haechan groans quietly at the way you tighten around him.

He steps out of his jeans halfway across the room, kicking them aside without a second thought before dropping onto the old leather couch against the wall.

The couch leather is cool and slightly sticky against Haechan’s bare back, creaking softly beneath him as he sinks deeper into it, thighs spread wide, eyes fixed on you the entire time.

Your robe is long gone now, discarded somewhere on the floor with his hoodie. Nothing between you but skin, heat, and the lingering throb of wanting more.

His hands are already on you.

Warm palms slide up the backs of your thighs, fingers spreading possessively over your skin as he guides you into his lap. Your knees sink into the worn cushions on either side of his hips, chest pressed flush against his.

Every tiny movement drags your nipples against his, sends another pulse of heat straight through you. You can feel his heartbeat hammering beneath your hands — fast, uneven, matching the ache building low in your stomach.

And the way he looks up at you —

Like you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted to touch.

His hands slide to your hips, fingers digging in just enough to guide, not force. He doesn’t rush. Just keeps you there for a second, letting you feel the slow pulse of him still inside you.

“Ride me,” he says, voice low and rough, eyes never leaving yours.

“Slow,” he murmurs. “Like you did on set… but this time it’s just for me.”

You lift yourself slightly, one hand gripping his shoulder while the other guides him back inside you. He feels hot and heavy against your slick folds, the head of him catching at your entrance before slowly sliding deeper.

The stretch hits harder like this — facing him, every inch sliding in with a slow, burning glide that makes your breath hitch audibly. You sink down inch by inch, feeling the way he throbs inside you like a second heartbeat while his eyes stay locked on your face the entire time.

When your ass finally meets his thighs—fully seated, stuffed full— Haechan’s head falls back against the couch with a low groan. His hands flex hard against your hips like he’s trying to hold himself together, eyes squeezing shut for half a second before snapping open again.

And then he’s looking at you.

Like he can’t stand missing a single second of this.

“Fuck—baby,” he breathes.

His hands wander up your back before settling on your hips, helping guide you into the same slow roll that already has both of you breathing harder.

“You feel so good,” he groans softly. “Still so fucking tight…”

You start moving properly then — slow lifts until only the head remains inside followed by deep, dragging drops, grinding down every time your hips meet his.

The angle is perfect. Every roll presses against that spot inside you while the friction between your bodies sends heat shooting straight up your spine.

Wet sounds fill the quiet room — slick, rhythmic, embarrassingly loud — mixing with your uneven breathing and the occasional creak of the old couch beneath you.

Haechan’s hands roam everywhere.

Thighs. Waist. Up your sides.

Thumbs brushing beneath your breasts before he cups them fully, palms hot against your skin as his fingers toy with your nipples until they ache. Then he leans in and takes one into his mouth with a groan, sucking hard before switching to the other while you whimper and grind down harder against him.

But somehow he always comes back to your face.

A hand cups your jaw, thumb dragging lightly across your bottom lip as he keeps your gaze fixed on him.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Keep looking at me.”

The words sound dangerously close to his on-set directions, except softer now. Rougher around the edges. Possessive in a way that makes your stomach twist.

Every time you sink back down, your clit catches against the coarse hair at the base of him, sending a sharp pulse through you. The pressure building inside you feels different this time — deeper, heavier, like something tightening low in your stomach every time he thrusts up into you.

“I wanna see every time you feel good,” he says quietly. “Every time I make you feel good.”

His mouth finds your neck, sucking lightly while his teeth graze your pulse.

His hips start rolling up to meet you now, deep controlled thrusts that make you gasp every time he bottoms out.

You whimper softly, hips faltering for a second when he thrusts into you again.

“That’s it,” he groans, voice cracking this time. “Just like that—fuck.”

His grip tightens at your hips.

“Your face when you take me…” He breaks off with another breathless sound, eyes dragging over your expression. “God.”

His thumb finds your clit, circling slow and firm in time with your hips. The pressure builds so intensely your thighs start shaking around him, pleasure twisting almost painfully low in your stomach—too much fullness, too much heat, too much him.

He angles his hips just slightly on the next thrust, hitting that spot perfectly while his thumb presses harder against your clit.

“Haechan—”

His name comes out broken and pleading. Your thighs are trembling, burning, but you can’t stop.

The release crashes over you so suddenly it steals the breath from your lungs.

Something inside you snaps.

You cry out, back arching hard your breasts press into his face as your walls tighten around him in sharp pulsing waves. Wet heat floods between your thighs, soaking him, the couch, both of you, and the sound of it makes Haechan groan low in his throat like he can’t believe what he’s feeling.

“Fuck—yeah, that’s it—”

He’s moaning with you now, hips stuttering while he watches your face like he’s completely gone from it.

“So pretty,” he breathes brokenly. “Fuck… you’re so pretty when you come.”

He doesn’t stop moving. Keeps thrusting through it slowly, dragging out every tremor until you’re whimpering from the overstimulation, thighs shaking so badly you can barely stay upright.

Only then does he finally let himself go.

One last deep thrust, burying himself inside you as he comes with a wrecked groan of your name, arms tightening around you while both of you shake through it.

You collapse against his chest afterward, breathing hard, skin damp with sweat and everything else. His arms wrap around you immediately, holding you close like he doesn’t want an inch of space between you.

Open-mouthed kisses press against your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth.

“Jesus,” he whispers, voice completely ruined. “You just… fuck.”

You hide your face in his neck, suddenly too embarrassed to look at him.

He laughs softly under his breath, still sounding wrecked, fingers sliding gently through your hair.

“Don’t hide from me,” he murmurs. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Another kiss presses against your hairline before he shifts you carefully in his lap, still inside you and softening slowly, until you’re curled against his chest.

For a long moment afterward, neither of you moves.

Just breathing.

Skin sticking together.

The faint drip of your combined release somewhere beneath you.

His heartbeat slowing beneath your cheek.

His lips brush your ear, smile warm against your skin.

You’re fine like this, for once believing you can let loose a little and still do well in your studies.

Haechan, instead, thinks his plan is going amazingly. He knows he has you distracted, he knows he takes away your time, and he knows everything is technically perfect. But the plan is not the best made of his life, and the more time passes, the more he forgets about it, and the more he thinks about you.

He never planned to use you, that had to be clear. He just wanted to distract you with sex —something you both wanted to have— and give you a boyfriend experience so you could write the song in the best way possible. But in doing all that, he is more caught up in you —and not only because of the plan, he is just caught up in you— than in his studies.

It’s nine pm on Sunday after he dropped you home around four pm this afternoon. He made you meet his girl friends too for lunch and then you went back to his place to stay together for a while. But even if you spent almost the entire day together, he still misses you.

He rolls on his back as he goes into his contacts to text you again, he doesn’t have to scroll down, you’re second on the list since he last annoyed you forty minutes ago but you still haven’t replied. 

haechan: can you answer me?

haechan: i miss you : (

haechan: you didn’t even let me eat you out

haechan: you looked so pretty in that skirt i think it looks better with my head underneath it

haechan: fuck and now i’m hard thinking about you

mortal enemy: the only hard thing should be the books you should be studying on, remember we have a test tomorrow?

“Fuck,” he screams, sitting up. “What?”

He never forgets these things. He always writes them down in his agenda that he maniacally reads every day to make sure he’s always on time with his studying schedule. He can’t have forgotten about it. But, apparently, he did.

His thumb quickly wipes to call you and your answer doesn’t let him wait.

“I’m studying,” you huff annoyed as you pick up his phone call right away.

“Why would you go out with me if tomorrow we have a test?”

Your chuckle reaches his ear through the phone before he gets to hear your voice again. “Why not?”

“Don’t you want to be the top one? What about your grades? This adds up for the finals.” Panic fills his voice, he’s hoping you remembered just now and haven’t been studying since you went back, but you’re too relaxed for that to be true.

“Yeah, I know,” you reply, too calmly for his liking. Was his plan working? No, because you knew about it. And he completely erased the test, too busy thinking about you.

“And you go out?” He asks again as anxiety starts to take over him.

“Why would I lock myself up before a test? It’s not even that serious. There’s the topic you pick, and then like four questions that will surely be the main things we discussed in class, Professor Kim only knows one way of making tests.”

He groans, he can’t believe you’re always so ahead of him. “How do you know these things?”

“I use my brain,” you reply nonchalantly.  

“So you started studying… when you got home?”

“Last week.”

“Last week? Are you kidding me?” He screams so loud that he’s sure you have to move the phone from your ear.

You sigh, rubbing your temples, Haechan knows it, you always do that when he pisses you off somehow. “You didn’t open the book at least once until now?”  

“I…” I would usually read through the notes at least once a week, but I’ve been too busy. “I’ve… I read the notes, until some weeks ago. I got busy, okay?”

“Were you perhaps distracted by something Hyuck?” You ask teasingly, and he can see you twirl the end of your hair in your fingers while your tongue pokes at your cheek.

“Nothing distracts me,” he mutters, frowning even if you can’t see him.

“Then hang the call and try to read the notes at least, I’ll send you the recordings of the lessons, play them all night maybe something will stick to your brain.”

“Okay, bye. Wish me good luck, please,” he says, and you chuckle. “No seriously, don’t manifest against me, I need all your good energy.”

“I will, Hyuck. Just give it a quick read and then try to get as much sleep as possible. You have a brain and you’re smart with it, it’s better for you to be active tomorrow than force information that just won’t get in, alright?”

He hums, weirdly feeling a bit calmer at your words. “’kay, goodnight, babe.”

“Goodnight.”

Haechan sighs, slumping on the bed, boner long gone and anxiety on his chest, until the screen lights up again and a few messages from you show up.

mortal enemy: 10 audios + 10 files ‘music theory notes’ sent the audios anyway but my *perfect* notes should be enough to not make you pull up an all-nighter also don’t stress too much, I appreciate the act of chivalry to make me top this class grades again :;

He forgot about an exam, he didn’t study for it, yet he’s smiling like an idiot because of you.

Haechan’s screwed.

“So, how did it go?” You ask, blocking Haechan as soon as the bell rings and Professor Kim dismisses the class, letting you know the results will be in next week.

Haechan glares at you, and you suck your teeth. “Come on, it wasn’t that difficult,” you say, sitting on his desk, as he looks for something in his bag.

“I did great, I just don’t want to admit your notes are perfect and were enough to save my ass,” he says, and you can’t hold back the smile.

“You’re welcome,” you say, standing up and kicking him playfully with a swing of your hips.

“Hey! You could’ve made me fall,” he jokes, grabbing his bag before taking a step back so you can lead the way out of there. “And thank you.”

You chuckle, lowering your head to hide that dumb grin on your face. “You know, I wanted to ask you why we never revisited music theory but I thought you wanted to do it on your own, maybe you were scheming something against me.”

“What? I would never scheme against you,” he says as you start walking to lunch.

You stare at him with a raised brow, and he huffs. “It was in the past and you did it too. Also, what would I scheme?”

“I don’t know, maybe you sneaked into his office and stole the test to already know the answers?”

“That would be cheating, not beating you. There’s no fun in that,” he says, holding the door of the cafeteria open for you.

“You’re such a fair rival,” you joke as you head to the buffet to grab something to eat.

“Wait,” he stops you when your plates are full. “Why don’t you sit at our table? I hate seeing you eat alone.”

“Have you ever considered I can’t stand how loud your friends are?”

“Oh come on, you already deal with them when you come to my place.”

“Exactly.”

Haechan huffs, standing in front of you to stop you from going toward your table. “We can go to yours today.”

You furrow, lightly tilting your head to the side. “We don’t have anything to study.” You try to decipher his expression and think if you could get so distracted to forget something you had to work on or revisit.  “The song?”

He shakes his head. “I might…” he pauses, trying to find a way to say what he wants to say that’s not so humiliating, but then he gives up with a heavy sigh that rolls from his lips. “Okay, I need help.”

“You?” You scream, attracting some attention on you, and Haechan glares at you, pulling you to the sides so that the curious gazes can linger away from you.

“Yes, me,” he replies through gritted teeth. “It’s just a small thing, but I don’t get it.”

You smirk smugly and he rolls his eyes. “Fine, I can’t wait to tutor you,” you reply, starting to walk to his group of friends’ table.

“Why can’t I ever win with you?” He whispers, shaking his head and following you.

You’re not sure Haechan told you the truth. He is smart but he isn’t the best actor ever, and when he came to your place to try to understand that small thing he didn’t understand in sociology, you were pretty sure it was just an excuse. You explained it in less than five minutes, he got it too quickly and immediately started messing around.

You don’t mind it, though. You enjoy spending some time with him. He’s a good distraction. Surely you would’ve fixed some notes or listened to some lessons instead of… well, instead of being on his lap with your fingers in his hair and his hands on your ass, grinding on him.

You hold in a moan when he concentrates on your neck, kissing, biting, and sucking the spot that makes you shiver. And you’d like to go on like this, but you need more. So you shift on top of his thigh, while yours presses against his hardening dick and makes him growl.

“What are you do—”

“Shh,” you shush him quickly, pressing your thumb on his lips before replacing it with your lips. “Ouch,” you gasp when he bites on your lower lip. “Why did you do that?”

Haechan chuckles, shrugging before leaning close to you again. “Why not?”

You frown but have no intention of carrying it any further. You can feel your panties stick to your skin and you just want to come, not really caring if it’s just like this.

But the moment of intimacy, if you could call it that, gets interrupted by the buzzing of his phone in his pocket.

“God, just answer,” you yell when Haechan ignores the third call but whoever is on the other line has no intention to stop trying.

Haechan rolls his eyes as his right hand leaves your ass to search through his pocket and huffs annoyed when he sees the name on the screen.

“Jaemin, what?” Haechan groans as you keep moving on his thighs, ignoring his deadly glare. “No, I’m busy.”

You faintly make out an angry reply from the other side, but you don’t care enough to understand what Jaemin’s saying.

“No, I can’t go out with you.”

“We can,” you reply loudly enough so that Jaemin can hear while Haechan scowls at you again, muttering a scold under his breath, but his anger is quickly addressed to his friend on the other side.

“Yes, I’m with her,” he huffs, rolling his head back, trying to stop your movements but failing. “Don’t ask questions. And yes, fine, fine.”

When he hangs the call after mumbling a quick, annoyed goodbye, you chuckle. “Thought you didn’t want to hear my annoying friends?” It’s all he asks, leaving a small, teasing slap on your asscheek.

“What were we supposed to do? Stay inside all day?”

“Yes, we have everything here,” he says, spreading his arms to point around. “And you’re still grinding on me.” He looks down, eyes narrowing as he stares at your hips. 

“I’ll finish and then we’ll get out,” you wink, starting to move faster but he has no intention to get back into the mood, not yet, at least.  

“You’ll stain my pants and where do I come?” He huffs, and you’re sure he’s trying to find an excuse to don’t go outside rather than one to don’t fuck with you. He would never say no to that, especially when you two are already in the middle of it. 

“Take them off,” you urge, jumping off him, waiting for him to get undressed as you do the same, your panties the only thing staying on.  “Come on. You don’t want to be late.”

Haechan groans, “you’re so… so greedy. You just want everything.”

“Yeah, am I allowed to have one flaw?” You bat your lashes at him, grinning when his eyes roll in the back of his head. “Oh, will I stain the underwear, too?” You ask when his lower half is completely bare to your eyes.

“Honey, I’m not coming inside my boxers, can’t wear your panties to hang out with the boys,” he says annoyed.

You chuckle, climbing on his thigh again, watching him whimper when your bare leg brushes against his dick and you press on him to be as close as you were before.

He doesn’t know why you didn’t take the panties off, but he knows he doesn’t want them there. He wants to feel you on his skin. As hot as this is, he wants to feel your pussy drip down his thigh, and your panties are stopping the full experience.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Donghyuck!” You scream when the sound of the fabric ripping hits your ears and the chill air of the room hits your warm core.

He groans. “It’s so hot when you say my real name with an angry tone, makes it hard to hold back fucking you.”

“You need to stop ripping my stuff,” you complain, trying to hide how hot you found that, the ripping of the panties and that fucking smirk on his face now that he lays back against the headboard of your bed, so proud and snotty that is hard for you to hold back fucking him.

“Shut up, you love it,” he says, pulling you into a rough kiss, pushing your body closer while his hand rests on your hips to guide you in the movements. “Also they weren’t a good pair, if you were in lingerie I would’ve asked you politely to take them off.”

“You will never see me in lingerie,” you retort, pulling away as your hand sneaks down and starts moving up and down on his throbbing cock.

“Fuck,” he groans, “at least warn me?”

“I’m half naked, grinding on top of you and I have to warn you when I grab your dick?” You ask. “If you don’t want, I won’t make you come.”

“No, just —fuck,” he glares at you when you concentrate on the tip, “don’t be a bitch.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you chuckle but still move your hand quickly, following the steady rhythm of your thighs. Your head rolls back when one of his hands creeps under your shirt and cups your boob, his thumb brushing against your hard, sensitive nipple.

Haechan sucks in a deep breath when your thighs start shaking around his and your cum drips down his thigh. “Fuck,” he moans, eyelids fluttering as he looks at you, head reclined back as you hold onto him with only one hand, the other still busy taking care of him. “This is so hot, you are so hot.”

The compliment pushes you closer to reaching your high and when he lifts your shirt to wrap his lips around your sensitive nipple, you lose it.

You whimper and quiver, hips moving messily as you keep riding your high, breath getting stuck in your throat when he accidentally bites you as his orgasm washes over him unexpectedly.

“Fuck, sorry,” he mumbles, and if you weren’t still so lost in your pleasure you would let him know you liked it.

When your hips still, and the dizzying sensation calms down, you lay your head against his shoulder for a while as his arms wrap around your waist.

“Can we stay in?” Haechan pouts when you try to get away from him, reaching for your hand to keep you next to him before he rolls over when you shake your head and jump off the bed. “Please.”

“We can’t always fuck and study and study and fuck,” you reply, cleaning yourself up, holding in a sigh when you realize he stained the cover of your bed with his cum.  

“Who said I want to do either of those things?” He says, looking up at you with puppy eyes, pushing his lower lip out to pity you.

“I know you,” you reply, glaring at him before pulling your pants back on, not even caring about putting on another pair of underwear, you would’ve had to wash all those clothes anyway after taking a well-deserved shower, but for now you only had to pick some clothes to go out with the boys.

“No, let’s stay in and, I don’t know. Should we sing?” He proposes, jumping on his feet and putting his discarded underwear on.

You laugh, staring at him in shock. “You want to sing?”

“Yeah, you have a guitar, right?”

You nod, turning around the corner where your guitar is.

“Don’t you want to hear my angelic voice?”

You take a deep breath at his brag and then exhale loudly. “But Jaemin?”

“Fuck him, I don’t care,” he says while a small victory grin already starts widening on his face. He knows you’re about to give in.  

You huff, rubbing your temples and giving up fighting him when his fingers are already typing on the phone to tell his friend you two can’t come anymore.

When he puts the phone away and smiles at you in anticipation, you sigh. You really are stuck with him, aren’t you?

“Why don’t we prepare biscuits?” You suggest. You wanted to bake something for a while now, but you never really find time to dedicate to the kitchen.

“Biscuits?”

You nod, stealing his sweatshirt to wear on top of your shirt before walking to the kitchen —that space you consider the kitchen. 

“I’m a mess when it comes to cooking, you know, right?” He confesses as he leans against the countertop, watching you move around to grab all the ingredients and tools you need.

“You? Admitting you’re bad at something? To me?” You ask with a teasing tone, but you’re genuinely surprised he let you know without turning even this into a competition.

He fakes a laugh. “Very funny,” he says. “I just don’t want to hear you complain if I make some mistakes and ruin your perfect biscuits.”

You chuckle. “Can you weigh the ingredients and then put them all in a bowl?”

“All at the same time?”

You nod, handing him what he needs and showing him where the scale is. “Is not that hard, even you can do it. Plus, it will be another thing I teach you today,” you wink.

“Careful, baby. Don’t start thinking you’re so much better than me,” he says, starting to weigh the ingredients and putting them in each separate bowl.

You scoff. “Honey, I won’t start thinking that,” you say, resting your head on his shoulder, “I already think that.” You leave a teasing kiss on his cheek before he hits you with the flour and you gasp.

“Oh, no, we’re not doing that,” you warn, taking a step back, seeing how he’s ready with another handful of it.

“Then take it back,” he says nonchalantly.

“I never take back the truth —oh, Jesus Christ, Donghyuck!”

He laughs loudly, bending forward as he glances at you, flour on your face and well, his sweater. “Don’t call my name like that again, though. I won’t resist this time,” he says when he finally stands up and stands right in front of your face. “Now, will you take it back?”

“Never —Ah!” You scream when he lifts you up without a warning and sits you on the table before he starts tickling you. “No, no, please,” you babble, shaking your head and trying to stop his hands on you but he’s faster. “Okay, fine, I’m not better than you — I’m not better than you!”

“Good,” he says, stopping his torture and smiling proudly. “I love it when you listen,” he jokes, kissing you again.

You should hate it —or at least don’t like it so much— when he kisses you like this, out of nowhere, for no reason at all other than wanting to shut you up, or maybe to feel you. But you truly don’t mind. Actually, you lean in for another one, and another one and another… until you feel this is once again going in another direction and, as much as you’d love to indulge in the moment, you want to prepare those biscuits.

“Enough,” you say, pushing him away and jumping off the table. “No more food waste and we’re doing this together.”

You discover you and Haechan work better in the kitchen than in other fields, maybe because there’s no tension pushing you to do better but you are listening to each other, teaching tricks, and simply having fun. And this atmosphere stays with you even when he grabs the guitar and starts playing the tune of your song, you sing some bits of the lyrics and then jokily propose to add some about baking cookies on a cloudy spring afternoon, expecting him to laugh at it but he just smiles and tells you to go on. And you do, mumbling something about being in the kitchen, humming, baking, and laughing. You think it’s too cliché, and you will surely go back to it obsessively until it comes at you like you want it, but he loves it.

Then the oven rings, signalling the biscuits are ready and none of you can believe they came out good, nothing burned, and they’re tasty. Somehow, those cookies, feel like the biggest achievement you two ever made together.

“Maybe we should stop fighting each other,” he mumbles, after chewing his last bite. “We make a pretty great team.”

You smile, cleaning your lips with a napkin, crumbs falling on the table. “Hate to agree, but we do,” you say. “I mean… we kinda teamed up months ago, don’t you think so?”

“We want to kill each other, and you call that teaming up?”

“It’s our way of teaming up,” you reply, handing him a clean napkin so he can clean himself, and he takes it. “We just like to keep the flame alive, if we stopped bickering at all, it wouldn’t be so funny.”

Haechan shrugs, he guesses so. “Not like anybody else ever stood a chance with us on top.”

You chuckle. “Imagine if someone is using our rivalry to get to the top and we never noticed them.”

“Honey, trust me, I would’ve noticed.”

Once you’re done eating, you push him into the shower. There’s flour, and dough on all your clothes, and you still need to wash off the sex of before. You’d opt to shower separately but you’re tight on water and you have to make the best out of the confined space, reason why his plan to fuck another time fails.

“Why are you wearing my pink robe?” You turn around two seconds to grab the towel you prepared for him, and he betrays you. “This was for you,” you say, holding up the white towel as you stand there naked.

“I already put it on, it’s wet,” he says. “Come on, it’s pretty.”

“Yeah, that’s why is my favourite robe,” you pout, but still wrap the towel around you because you don’t want to freeze.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says, and, before you can even think how, you don’t feel the ground under your feet anymore. Your arms immediately wrap around his shoulders for more safety as you let him carry you outside. You have no idea what is going on today, but you like this, how he’s taking care of you —in his way, of course— and how this feels good.

“You have to change it anyway,” he says when he drops you on the bed and, as soon as you open your mouth, he knows you’re about to complain about the wet towel on the dry covers. “I’ll help you change it later.”

While you change into your new clothes, your pink pyjamas with small black hearts as a pattern, you watch him walk around as if he’s so familiar with the place —not that it would take much for anyone to know where everything is, considering how small it is— but something about it makes a feeling of comfort and warmth spread in your heart. Nobody else had ever been inside that place.

But then you snap out of it and realize he’s naked, and his clothes are dirty, so you rush to the closet to find something to give him.

“So, mhh,” you say, making the things you grabbed fall in front of him, who’s sitting at the table. “I have those sweatpants and a sweater, or these pyjamas if you want it, it’s pink, but it doesn’t look like you care much,” you note, looking at how much he’s rocking your robe.

“Pink pjs! We’ll match,” he says, eyes lighting up as he wastes no moment getting out of the bathrobe.

“Out of the kitchen!”

“There’s not even a wall?”

“Still, get out,” you say, pushing him with force away from there. “Better.”

He rolls his eyes but still grabs the shirt and pulls it on him, blinking when he sees a pair of clean boxers. “Why do you have these?” He still studies them, thinking he has seen them before.

“Because they’re yours,” you say nonchalantly while fixing your hair in a braid.

“They’re mine? I left them here?”

“I might’ve accidentally dragged them with me once,” you confess, looking at him with a big, awkward smile.

“When?”

“When Jaemin almost pushed the door down and we had to rush to get dressed. I just stuffed everything in my bag and your underwear was next to mine so, ta-da,” you say, stretching your arms and shaking your hands to complete the sound effect.

Haechan sighs, nodding. “Of course, it must have been because of Jaemin, somehow.”

“Well, it turned out useful, just put them on. I don’t want to see your dick more than necessary.”

Haechan scoffs and bites back a comment as he finishes getting dressed. “You have to admit I look really good in pink.”

You look at him up and down while he twirls, and you smile. “You would be my favourite Barbie at the mall if they sold you in boxes.”

“God, you’re so annoying, can’t ever make normal compliments,” he complains. “Come on, help me with the bed. It won’t clean itself.”

Making the bed with him is tiresome. His weird way and theories about making it lead you two to bicker more than you should and remake it twice to see who is right —you, obviously. So, once you’re done with it, laying on it with him by your side, you know not even God himself will make you stand up to cook dinner. You don’t need to say a word, Haechan already has his phone out ready to order, and you couldn’t be happier.  

You spend ten minutes deciding what movie to watch and another five bickering because you don’t want to eat on the bed, but he insists you won’t make a mess, and if you do, he will help you clean up. It ends with you giving up and the bell ringing with your order ready.

You never have nights like this. You always try to cook on your own and don’t waste money on eating out, and you also never finish the movie or the series you start, either too tired halfway or with something more important to care about, for example, some notes to copy, or lessons to listen.

But this is nice.

You two joke, laugh, eat, and then you start to feel the sleep take over you, and you don’t think about sending him home or falling asleep on the pillow.

And as you rest your head on his shoulder, Haechan’s more and more sure that his plan failed.

“You’re playing with me, right?” You ask when Haechan messes up for the nth time. The end of the year is approaching, and you two are getting ready for yet another test, the last before the finals, but right now he’s testing your patience not getting a single answer right. You’ve been stuck in his room for hours now.

“I wish I was, my brain is fried,” he huffs, throwing his head back on his chair.

You’re speechless and you shake your head. “It’s super easy, you were better than me in this class, what the fuck is wrong with you?” You snap.

“Hey! Why are you so pissed? Shouldn’t you be happy you’ll beat me even in this?”

“Be serious,” you say, sending him a deadly glare. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m…” he huffs, shaking his head, and turning around in his chair to avoid you. “I’m just stressed for a lot of things. I’m tired, I didn’t sleep tonight.”

“You struggled even last week. And when the Professor asked you something in class you gave an answer that is just not you,” you say, cutting off his bullshit, grabbing the armrest of the chair, and forcing him to face you with a rough tug on the chair.

“There are too many things to remember,” he says, after frowning at how harsh you have been. “It’s not that I don’t know, it’s that I mess it all up.”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “Do I have to motivate you?”

He lifts his head, staring at you with a furrow. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s play a game,” you say, sitting better on the chair, and Haechan gulps when doing so your skirt —short skirt, incredibly short skirt— rises. He will never tell you, but the way you show up on your dates is another reason why he can’t concentrate. It’s May, it’s so hot. It’s your excuse, but he would bet you’re also doing it to mess up with him.

“No,” he replies, already fearing your proposal.

“Why not? You didn’t hear it, yet.”

He sighs but signals you to go on with a quick movement of his fingers.

“So, we’ll revisit once again, I’ll try to explain all your doubts. Then, I’ll ask you a question, if you get it right, I’ll take off one piece of clothes, if you get it wrong, you’ll take off one, and vice versa.”

“How studying with you butt-naked would make me learn more things?” He almost screams in a high-pitched voice.

“See!” You say. “You’re already starting with the idea you’ll lose.”

“Because I can’t get anything in my brain, and if I get it right then you’ll have to take something off and all I’ll think about will be… you.” I already only think about you, he’d like to add, but that’s too humiliating. Just like the grin on your face. He hates how weak he is. He hates how easy it is for you to win battle after battle. And he hates even more that his plan is showing flaws with each passing day. He doesn’t want you to be his Waterloo, but he’s not sure he can come up with another strategy soon enough to beat you. 

“Fine, then no study-strip-poker,” you give up, but the smug smirk on your face doesn’t drop when you start to think of something else that could motivate him, it only grows bigger when you finally get it. “If you answer right to at least ten of the fifteen questions, I’ll suck your dick.”

Haechan gulps. His eyes immediately fall on your lips as his brain starts to wander on lands he shouldn’t think about, not now at least, not when he has a bigger obstacle to face if he wants to get there.

“Hey,” you call his attention, snapping your fingers and waving them in front of his face. “It has to be motivation, not distraction. Do you want me?”

He huffs, throwing his head back. “Can’t we just fuck and then we’ll start again?” He pouts like he does every time he wants something from you.

“No,” you reply sternly, stealing his sweatshirt from his chair and putting it on you. “You don’t get the prize if you don’t win.”

“That’s not fair. And why are you covering up?”

“So you can’t distract yourself,” you say. You might like to tease him with more revealing clothes, but your intent is never to get him to be this distracted. You don’t want to be the reason he will fail this last test.

“You’re not my distraction,” he scoffs, diverting his gaze, and moving closer to his desk.

You decide to ignore him, you know the truth, and as much as the idea of him starting to lose because he’s too busy thinking of you, sends you on cloud nine, you also don’t want him to do terribly, especially in a class you know he loves and is good at.

“I know the theory,” he says, stopping you from going back to the start. “I wouldn’t be able to produce songs if I didn’t.”

“Yeah, but you just failed to explain how you create and add effects, and you forgot the basic difference between the dry sound and the wet sound, so revisiting some theory won’t hurt.”

Haechan sighs but soon gives up as you hand him your notes. He always thought you were crazy for also having printed pictures of how the software works but now that he needs it, he couldn’t be more grateful that you’re so precise with everything.

You start explaining things once again, cutting short about the most basic notions and diving deeper into the last lessons, as you try to stop as much as you can to make sure he’s still following you. And, after almost an hour, you’re done.

“What are you doing?” He asks when you take off his sweater again. “What about my concentration?”

“I needed your focus while I was explaining, now you have to answer even if you have distractions.”

He huffs loudly, throwing his head back. “But don’t play dirty, you can’t touch yourself or anything like that.”

“I’m not that cruel, I just want you to answer me,” you say. “So, let’s start with an easy one, should we?”

Haechan answers the first questions with ease, not like he usually would, but it’s still better than the mess of before. And he would be so close to getting the last one that keeps him on thin ice, he only got five wrong...

“No, no, no, please,” he begs, trying to stop you in place. “Please, give me one last chance. Ask me just one last question.”

“You got six wrong, babe,” you reply, loving how he’s almost on the verge of tears as his big brown eyes look up at you.

“But it was hard, I will never remember all the types of old reverbs unit,” he whines, coming closer to you.

“Then why do I?”

“Don’t lie, you don’t remember them either, I can’t even pronounce some of those names.”

You chuckle. “Oh, it’s really funny when the lack of a good fuck gets in your brain.” It’s not about sound design anymore. It’s about the desperation behind his eyes; knowing he wants you so much even if you’re the biggest reason for his despair gets your body hot and your pussy wet.

He groans, slumping back on his chair as he gives up on you. Or so he thinks because when he doesn’t pity you enough and you’re still packing your things to leave, he’s back again with his complaint.

“Please, one last chance? I didn’t mess the others up, I just made some tiny mistakes.”

“And you didn’t answer to two,” you say, ignoring him, trying to keep a serious face to not show your true emotions.

“Do I have to get on my knees?”

You snicker. “You look good on your knees,” you taunt but you don’t expect him to do that. “Get up!”

“Not until you give me another chance,” he retorts. “Please.”

You huff, rolling your eyes. “Fine, but just one.”

He nods enthusiastically, almost looking like a puppy being teased with a treat before he sits up in front of you.

“The differences, all the differences, between the shelving equalizer and the peaking equalizer.”

“Okay, I know this one, I know it,” he says before he starts explaining without missing a single detail. “So?” He asks with eyes full of hope as if he doesn’t know he just gave you a perfect answer.

“It was… great,” you tease him but you can’t keep a straight face when you see the pout on his face. “Kidding, kidding, you answered perfectly. So, I guess you deserve your prize.”

“Yes,” he screams, and in a second he throws himself on you but you shake your head and push him back on his chair. “What?”

“You sit there and let me handle this,” you say, placing your hands on his thighs. “Take them off,” you order, tilting your head to point at his grey pants. You see he’s confused about where you want this to go, but he obeys you anyway. “Everything,” you add when he’s still in his boxers. “Good boy, come here,” you say, patting your lap.

Haechan frowns. “You said you were going to suck me off.”

“I know, and have I ever break my promises?”

“I don’t know.”

“Just trust me and come here,” you order, waiting for him to follow. “Can’t believe you’ve been this hard all this time,” you say, wrapping your hand around his hard cock, starting to pump the pre-cum that leaked.

“You teased me,” he huffs, trying to keep his composure as he watches your hand moving on him delicately.

“I know, babe. I’m sorry,” you pout, one hand sneaking under his big white shirt to tease his nipples.

“Don’t,” he mutters, but you only laugh.

“Don’t, what? Let me take care of you, you’re stressed.”

He doesn’t reply, his head falls back as your movements on his dick quicken. He feels so small in your hold and he should find this more embarrassing but he doesn’t care. He loves the way your hand wanders delicately on his body and your lips leave pecks on his neck while the movements on his dick are fast enough to give him what he wants but not too fast to ruin this moment.

Your hands keep moving while your lips kiss his neck and jaw.

“Feels so good,” Donghyuck hums, shifting in your lap.

“I told you,” you chuckle, watching him roll his head back on your shoulder as his eyes close. “The others will hear you,” you say when his whimpers get louder.

“Don’t care,” he moans. “Feels too good.”

You smile and shrug. If he doesn't care, who are you to worry about it? It’s not like they don’t know what happens between you two.

So you quicken your hand, sliding up and down his sensitive dick so fast you make him tremble in your hold.

“You’re so cute like this, you know?” You say. “You look so small and delicate.” You expect him to get mad but instead, he moans and nods swiftly. And you know that stress got him good. Donghyuck, admitting to be vulnerable in your hands? You can only thank the weight the University is putting on his shoulders. But if that’s a way to make it go away, you can’t complain.

“I’m gonna — gonna come,” he whimpers when you start rubbing your thumb on his tip. “Fuck.”

You trap his scream with your other hand, staring at him as he slumps against you as his orgasm washes over him, squirting white strings of cum on your hand and his crumpled shirt.

“Get on the bed,” you urge while lifting the shirt off his body, leaving him naked. He barely has time to put himself together, but you don’t care and you know he needs more too.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit unfair that you’re still all dressed up?” He asks, still sitting on top of you.

“Do you want me to suck your dick, or do you want me to leave?” Is the only thing you have to say to make him obey with no more complaints. “Good. You should be thankful I gave you another chance. Right now you would be masturbating all alone and have no knowledge of sound design, so… what do we say?”

“What do you want me to say? You didn’t—”

“What do we say?” You shut him up, pulling his hair back harshly as your body weights on his lap, eliciting a broken groan.

“Tha — thank you,” he mumbles, cock throbbing right against your thigh. “Thank you but, please, do something, I’m… I need you.”

You snicker, letting go of his head and crawling back on the bed. “You’re so pathetic,” you mock, grabbing his dick again. “Begging on your knees just because you wanted my mouth.”

Haechan groans, throwing his head back but the harsh slap on his thigh makes him snap his eyes open.

“Why?” He squeaks.

“Eyes on me when I’m talking to you,” you order before lowering down so you can tease his tip with your tongue, making him bite back a loud moan.

“Please,” he pleads, and you finally give in. When you take him in your mouth, the broken breath that rolls from his lips makes your pussy clench around nothing.

“Shit,” he moans, fists clenching in the sheets as you suck harder, moving your head up and down in quick movements. He wants to look at you, knowing it will be even harder to not come on the spot, but he’s fighting with so many parts of him, he doesn’t know what to do.

When you pull away to look at him, he whines, hips bucking up in search of physical contact. You snicker, “and then I am the greedy one?”

“You’ve been teasing since you stepped inside the house,” he whines, trying to grab your hand but you don’t let him. “Come on, I’ve been good.”

It’s true, he has been good, but you don’t want him to come yet. “You can’t come, not yet.”

“Fine, just — just don’t tease me. Please,” he cries, begging you with his eyes.

You start taking care of him seriously; bobbing your head up and down while your hand wraps at his base to touch him where you can’t reach. Your movements are quick, but not too messy, since you’re trying to avoid creating a pool of spit and pre-cum all over his lap.

“Your mouth, fuck,” he groans, involuntarily fucking into your throat and uttering a slurred apology. “You’re just so good. God,” he curses, and you catch him rolling his eyes. “Even at — even at this you’re good.”

You snicker to yourself and keep focusing on his dick, heavy on your tongue as you suck with force.

You might be too good, cause it doesn’t take a lot for him to explode in your mouth; a brief warning for you to choose if you want to pull away and then the pleasure runs through his body for the second time.

You barely have time to clean your chin from the cum that dripped down that Haechan pulls you close to him, kissing you intensely while his hands are all over your body. “Want you, please, please fuck me,” he begs against your lips.

You slip out of your panties, quickly grabbing the base of his cock to line it with your soaked entrance because you can’t wait anymore.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so wet,” he hums when you sink, wrapping your hands around his shoulders.

“Want to take merits for this, too?”

“Well, yes,” he retorts. “Shit, don’t move, it’s not fair.”

“Everything is fair between us,” you say, starting to pick up a rhythm that makes him struggle to come up with a snarky reply. “Loss of words?”

He groans, throwing his head back and tightening the hold around your waist. “You can —mmph— you can talk all you want but —ugh— I am the reason why you’re soaked.” Somehow the way you’re bouncing on his dick it’s not enough to wipe away that smug smirk off his face, and you can’t stand it.

“Just shut the fuck up and enjoy this, will you?” You snap before kissing him roughly, cupping his chin with force before nibbling his lower lip, making him hiss. “I like it when you moan, so please, just fucking moan. The only words I want to hear are my name and begs.”

Your “threat” is effective because he doesn’t dare to open his mouth again.

“Good boy,” you praise without ever stopping to kiss him and moving your hips at a quick but regular speed.

You quickly realize that stress has gotten to you, too. You love to pretend it doesn’t affect you, and that you don’t need to let off steam, but you do. You are desperate to feel carefree for a few moments, put all the books and papers behind and have fun. And worst, you need him.

Donghyuck is what makes you feel good. It doesn’t matter if it’s mostly physical, he takes you to another world every time. He makes you feel wanted, he puts you through the test, but he makes everything worth it.

You’re so sure of it as you let your body crush against his, your fleshes meeting in a messed-up tangle of flaws. The kinds of flaws you both grew close enough to show each other.

In a few minutes, waves of pleasure hit you both and your bodies collapse into each other as you keep lazily riding that sensation; muscles on fire, lips meeting in messy kisses, moans panting the room, and your hands looking for each other.

When you lay on the bed side by side, you feel disconnected, and, truly, the only thing you’d like to do is to close your eyes and fall asleep, but your eyes fall on the clock against the wall and remind you why you went to his place.

“Five minutes and then we’re revisiting again,” you say, knowing the only way to get up is to say that thought out loud.  

Donghyuck groans, pressing his face against you and mumbling, “can I eat you out if I make no mistakes this time?”

“We’ll see.”

You’re woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of the piano playing from the living room. The other side of the bed is empty, and the sheets are crumpled up, signalling you Haechan got up somewhere during the night.

You two went on a trip the whole weekend. Not like you had a choice when he passed by your place and told you to get in the car without giving you any information. You got mad at him when he told you it wasn’t a one-day thing, but you were too far from town to even think of going back. And even if initially you were angry because your plans for the weekend were different —studying all day for three days— your anger disappeared quickly.

This is the second night out; you spent the entire day wandering around a town you didn’t even know before and got closer to each other. You love the thrill with him, but you soon realize you also love it when there’s peace between you. It’s impossible for you to don’t bicker, but you learned how to balance everything. And the more you get to know him, the more you like him.

“Can’t sleep?” You ask, watching his features being lit up by the faint moonlight and a small lamp at the side of the piano. It’s an old one, almost left abandoned in the living room of the small, cheap house you’re staying in for the night.

Donghyuck shakes his head. “Got a tune I couldn’t get off my mind so… here we are.”

You smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you sit next to him. You don’t talk, you only watch his fingers move on the notes looking like ballet dancers. You’ve never seen him play the piano before, you weren’t even sure he could. But you’re amazed at how many things he’s talented at, the guitar, the piano, production, singing, dancing —and making your days less grey.

You don’t tell him, you only lean in, resting your head on his shoulder as he keeps playing the sweet melody.

“It’s…” he huffs, stopping for a second. “Doesn’t it sound messy?”

“Not at all,” you reply. “It sounds upbeat. Happy.”

“Out of all the ways you can describe music,” he chuckles, looking at you.

You look up, shrugging. “I’m describing how it’s making me feel.”

“Yeah? And what does it feel like?”

“Play it again,” you say, closing your eyes and letting the tune lull you. “It feels like spring. Like a field full of sunflowers, the ones you see at the side of the highway, passing by so fast before you can even get lost in their beauty.”

Haechan chuckles, holding back the big smile on his face. “It reminds me of those late summer evenings, when the heat dims a bit and the sky is pale pink and purple and blue, and time is frozen.”

“Yeah, when you’re ten and you don’t want summer to end because it means you have to go back to school,” you smile. “When you would stay out all day and come home with the smell of your favourite cake that your mom just baked.”

“Really? Your mom would bake that too?”

You nod. “Chocolate cake, basic and too messy for the heat of summer. But my mom loves me too much to don’t bake it for me, even if it’s 30° outside.”

Haechan chuckles, and his fingers start moving faster, starting the melody of what could be the chorus of the tune.

“In this part, it feels like a wave. I’m picturing running on the beach as the waves crash at your feet and the wind blows against your face.”

“Why are you smiling?” He asks.

You shake your head. “I — I can… it feels oddly romantic, a bit tormented, maybe confused, but in love,” you whisper. He gives you a weird look, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re not using technical words to describe it or because you’re just weird. But there’s a reason you’re not being technical, you’re saying what it makes you feel, the vivid pictures in your mind. And, somehow, there’s you and him.

You two on the beach, walking on the sand before he starts running, teasing you to follow him. There’s the scent of the sea filling your nostrils and your lungs burning up as you reach him and then fall in his arms and feel your heart explode.

“It’s an unexpected feeling, something that wasn’t supposed to happen and then… changed everything. It’s thrilling. Scary, but satisfying.” You avoid his gaze but hear him hum in agreement, and wonder if he’s thinking the same, if he can feel this tension.

“So, something that sweeps everything like a wave,” he asks, and you nod. “Sunset,” he adds, smiling at you, slowing down the rhythm of his fingers. “I can also see the sunset colouring the scene. The kind that makes you look up and stare in awe like a child.”

“The one we saw yesterday,” you reply shyly. “It made your eyes look even more brown,” you confess, watching his cheeks tint up of rose.

“The kind that leaves you breathless,” he whispers. His fingers are still moving but they’re playing the same notes, he’s too busy staring into your eyes, leaning closer to you.

“And speechless.”

And a bit closer.

“And grateful you’re on earth.”

And closer.

You move back, coughing and lowering your head because you feel on fire. Is he making fun of you? Does he feel this? Why is he so confusing?

“It feels like a road trip with nowhere to go,” you say to fill the silence, and your words make him play again. “The calm while everything outside is falling apart.”

“Like running to your safe place?”

You nod. “It feels like… home.”

He smiles, looking in your direction while his fingers still play that sweet melody. “I always believed home is a person, even people, but not a place.”

You swallow, staring at his lips before your eyes meet his. “I’ve forgotten that feeling quite some time ago,” you whisper, feeling your head spin. You left home and never looked back, eager to chase your dreams, the ones you’ve been fighting hard to achieve since you were a child, but in that marathon to success, you’re starting to realize you lost something.

“You just need to find the right people, and then never let go.” He leans closer to you, hands falling from the piano as he leans in completely to trap your lips in a kiss. His hand cups your face while the other moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer and moving his thumb in small circles. You feel like your lungs are on fire, and your legs are weak, but your heart never pumped harder than this. And when he slowly pulls away, you’re staring into each other’s eyes.

You know all the words to your song.

It’s true you’ve tried to avoid Donghyuck’s group of friends as much as you can —mostly to preserve your brain from early injuries— but it’s also true that the end of the second academic year is tearing you apart and you need to do something to don’t go insane.

So here you are, it’s Friday night, at their place, and you’re surrounded. Haechan has left you alone for a moment, busy talking with Mark. Jeno is trying to set up the table in the living room, while Renjun runs after him because ‘things are not perfect enough.’ Yangyang —no, he doesn’t live with them, but for some reason, he is always around— is in the kitchen doing only God knows what.

For your luck, you have Jaemin and the girls by your side. Ningning, who apparently has something going on with Mr Loverboy at your side. Yeri, who is there just to bully Haechan, Mark and Yangyang  —an old tradition that goes on since high school, and you love her for that. And Minjeong, who’s the nicest and yet smartest person you know, you are relieved she is in creative writing with Jaemin. You met them all before, one of the thousand times Donghyuck dragged you around with him, and the four of you got along right away, quickly becoming friends.

“They’re so loud, I would have a constant headache living here,” Yeri huffs loudly, rolling her eyes and falling backwards in Ningning’s arms.

You raise a brow as a ‘told you’ moment.

“They’re not that bad usually,” Jaemin defends, looking at his friends, now all too interested in something that regards what they are supposed to eat.

“Pfft, please, Jaem,” you say, glaring at him.

“How would you know?” He says. “Oh, no, yes, actually you would, you’re always here.”

“See, so stop defending them,” you say before becoming aware of the three sets of eyes boring holes into you. You turn around meeting your three friends and lift a brow in a questing look.

“Why would you always be here?” Ningning teases, nudging you.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t wander too far with your brains. I’ve got a project with Hyuck.”

“Hyuck? You used to go around calling him by his stage name just a few months ago and now it’s Hyuck?” Yeri points out, smirking smugly.

You throw a pillow at her. “He’s always attached to my hip, of course, we got closer,” you explain, frowning.

“Sure, sure,” she laughs. “Not even the boys call him Hyuck.”

“They do,” you retort.

“Of course you know, you’re always here,” Minjeong giggles and you gasp.

“You traitor!” You say, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her as you both laugh.

“Move your asses over here, motherfuc—” Yangyang screams before Renjun slaps a hand on his face.

“I will kill you all one day,” Renjun says, storming into the kitchen to bring more drinks as you sit down around the table.

“Please leave us out of it,” Yeri screams loud enough so he can hear.

“Sure, you can even help me get it done if you want to,” he says, sitting between Jeno and Yangyang, handing the bottles around.

“I’m in,” the four of you say simultaneously, raising your hands and they all gasp as they glare at you.

“Guess we better sleep with our eyes open tonight,” Yangyang mutters.

“You should always sleep with one eye open,” Yeri threatens, smiling creepily.

You chuckle at their antics, but your attention is caught by Donghyuck who sits by your side. “Would you kill me?”

You smile, caressing his hand on his thigh. “Honey, what are you saying? You would be the first that has to go.”

The smile on his face drops and you laugh, turning to the table to grab something to eat.

“You know,” he whispers, leaning in so only you can hear, “no dick tonight.”

You lower your head, trying to hide the embarrassment, but then lift it up and shake it, fixing your hair behind your ear, and turning to him. “Not like something could’ve happened tonight anyway.”

“Period?”

“People,” you say and he chuckles, opening a can of beer before taking a sip.

“As if that ever stopped you.”

You roll your eyes, stealing the beer from his hand, “as if that ever stopped you.”

He smiles, resting his head on his palm as he looks at you. “You never said no, though.”

You wave him off, returning your attention to the table, but it doesn’t last much, they’re deep in a heated conversation and you’re missing something. “Why are they bickering… again?”

Haechan chuckles, shaking his head, grabbing a spring roll, dipping it in the soy sauce before taking a bite. You roll your eyes because you need to be updated right away but when you look at him munching happily you can’t hold back a smile.

“So,” he says, cleaning his lips after he swallowed, “Jeno wants Renjun for a project, but Renjun has war traumas of the last time they did a shooting together and doesn’t want to.”

You giggle, grabbing a spring roll too, and dipping it in the same small cup of Donghyuck, while you both pay attention to the conversation.

“But you’re perfect for it,” Jeno insists, shaking Renjun from his shoulders, not caring about the pissed-off expression of the older.

“I’m literally not, ask anybody else but me,” Renjun repeats, a deep crease visible on his forehead.

“But you look like an angel,” Jeno pouts, finally stopping his movements and batting his lashes to gain some pity.

“I might look like an angel, but I feel Satan rising in me every time you talk,” he says, making everybody laugh before he glances, and the room goes quiet.

“Come on, how bad can it be?” Minjeong says, and you see her shift closer to Mark, but you don’t say anything.

Renjun groans, throwing his head back. He can’t believe he might be convinced into this by the end of the night. “He’s too much of a perfectionist, and I’m not comfortable in front of the camera. Also, he’s not rich enough to have a studio and he always takes ages to put the light boxes in their place once he’s done.”

“Oh, I won’t annoy you, I promise,” Jeno begs again.

“We can rent a studio,” you say, all eyes on you. “I mean,” you cough, placing the small bite of the roll left on the plate in front of you, “me and Hyu— Donghyuck have to shoot the cover for the songwriting project, I don’t think we can wait any longer since we also have to record the song and then come up with an advertising strategy.”

“Then rent a studio?” Renjun says, coming out colder than he intends to. “No, wait, I just don’t get why you have to drag me in this.”

“Jeno proposed to be our photographer, but I doubt we can do it at home. And since we wouldn’t be paying for his job. Sorry,” you mouth quickly glancing at Jeno who shrugs and smiles at you. “We can at least put the money for the studio.”

“And where do I fit in this,” he cries, shoulders slumping as he knows there’s no way out of this, no matter what you say next.

“Well, since you pay the studio per hour, I don’t think Jeno will torture you much. He takes two hours with you and two hours with us and in a day, we are done. Also, if there are four of us, we can be quicker,” you finish explaining, hearing some hums of agreement from your other friends.

Jeno doesn’t say a word, he’s only smiling widely with his face close to Renjun’s as the latter regrets all the life choices that brought him here. “Fine, I’ll do it,” he exhales, groaning when Jeno hugs him and screams a cheer in his ear. “Step away before I change my mind,” he warns, slapping Jeno’s arm and glaring at him when he does as told.

Yeri sighs deeply at your side, rolling her eyes and muttering, “children.”

You chuckle, finishing your roll, and stealing Donghyuck’s beer again before talking to him. “So, I guess we’re almost done.”

“Almost done? You still didn’t show me the lyrics, have you even written them?”

“Hey,” you scold. “Are you doubting me?”

“I don’t know, last time I checked, you were the one struggling. I offered you four bases, and all the words I’ve read from you ended up crumpled in the bin.”

You sigh. “I’ve got the song,” you reassure him.

“Really?”

“Yeah, and I also picked the production. I mean, I… I wrote it because of that production.”

Haechan’s smirk widens when you start stuttering and looking away, trying to look unsuspicious in your friends’ eyes. “Really? And why are you shying away?”

You almost jump when you feel his hand on your thigh, resting on your bare skin under the skirt. “I’m not,” you whisper, trying to keep cool.

He snickers. “You know I’ll have to see it and you can’t keep it a secret from me, right?”

“I know, I don’t want it to be a secret. You’ll read it.”

He squeezes your thigh, and you glare at him. “Not now.”

“Right, later, under the cover when we’ll watch a movie,” he jokes.

Yeri coughs beside you and you see your entire life pass in front of your eyes, but you fake nonchalance and turn to her. “Need something? Some water?”

“Some tea, honey, some tea,” she says, raising a brow and pointing at the man at your side, now busy talking with Yangyang.

“I can make some.”

“Stop playing me,” she whispers, sending you a deadly glare. She can be scary at times, you’re not surprised the boys listen to her in the blink of an eye.

“He’s just being stupid, he flirts even with walls,” you say.

“Does he touch their thighs?”

“No, he’s not,” you say, only to gasp when she looks down and his hand is still on you. You push it away but he puts it right where it was and you can only sigh.

Yeri snickers. “Ah, l’amour.”

Your head rolls back as you let out an annoyed sigh. “Love my ass.”

Yeri shrugs, sipping from her small bottle of soju. “Don’t care, there’s still something going on, and I’m interested.”

“I’d love to mock you with somebody but you’re more closed than an unopened can of beans.”

“You are so bad with words. How do you write songs?”

“I don’t write about beans, clearly,” you say seriously before you both laugh.

“You two, mind to share what’s funny with the class?” Ningning calls you out.

“Sorry Professor Ning, we’ll be even more annoying next time,” Yeri retorts.

“Why do I feel you’re quoting something we can’t understand?” Renjun says.

“Because you’re right,” Yeri replies.

“Yesterday Yeri almost got us expelled,” Ningning says with a forced smile on her face, making you all gasp.

“What happened to sharing information?” Mark screams, leaning in with interest.

“Why do you care so much?” Yeri shrugs, grabbing a bowl of tteokbokki to eat.

“Mh, hello? You got your asses out of Uni,” Minjeong says.

Yeri only rolls her eyes, resting her head on Ningning. “If a tteokbokki falls on my clothes you’re dead,” the blonde-haired warns before bringing her gaze to all of you. “In her defense, it wasn’t her fault. Not at the start, at least.”

“No,” Yeri retorts, sitting up straight again, and placing the bowl on the table, “it wasn’t my fault, period.”

“Here she goes again,” Ningning sighs, puffing and shaking her head, making you chuckle. But Yeri is not paying her attention, too busy telling the facts right.

“Professor Choi hates us and treats us like kids. Not only his lessons are boring, and I would like to add, useless, but he also thinks we’re in kindergarten.”

“Did you fight with him?” Jeno questions, frowning, already fearing a positive answer.

Yeri gulps, looking around to take time to answer.

“Oh, God, tell me you didn’t,” you say, staring at her with a worried expression.

“He asked for blood,” she says, getting fired up.

“You fought a Professor?” Jaemin gasps loudly.

“She didn’t,” Ningning intervenes when Yeri is about to open her mouth again. “Just because I was there to babysit her, but she didn’t.”

“I didn’t come here to be treated like a child,” she says, crossing her arms on her chest. “We weren’t even being loud. We were sitting in the back of the class, minding our business and he called us out. There was a group of boys in the middle row watching fucking porn and he called us out.”

“Ew,” it comes out collectively.

“But unless the headphones weren’t connected how would he know?” Yangyang asks.

“I don’t care! He hates us,” she groans.

“So you decided to make him hate you even more? Smart move, Yerim, smart move,” Renjun says sarcastically, and she glares at him.

“I just decided to drag her out when things got a bit heated,” Ningning says.

“Not in a Beyonce way I guess,” Haechan jokes, and Yeri slaps him as you move back to give her space to hit him.

“Hey! Why are you helping her bully me?” He asks offended.

“Cause you deserve it?” You shrug.

Donghyuck looks around in disbelief, groaning when everybody agrees. “Fake ass friends, can’t even trust your own shadow in this group.”

“Back to what matters, safe to say you won’t pass the class,” Renjun says.

“We will, there’s only one lesson left, and we’ll pay attention,” Ningning says and Yeri raises her brows. “We will pay attention. He might hate us, but, you know, a bit of boot-licking and we’ll be fine.”

“Fine,” Yeri gives up. “But only because I don’t want to see him ever again.”

“We once fought so hard we got kicked out,” Haechan confesses, bringing the attention to him.

“You and?” Jeno asks.

“Dumbass, Miss Better than him, thought you heard them bicker every two seconds,” Renjun replies instead, pointing at you with his index finger.

“Hey!” You say. “I mean, thank you for acknowledging I’m better than him but it wasn’t so bad.”

“Oh, trust me, it was,” Mark comments before drinking his beer.

“And you were teaching us a lesson, uh?” Yeri teases, eyebrow raised at you two.

“We didn’t insult the Professor,” you explain. “We were just at each other’s throat.”

“Why?” Minjeong asks.

“Honestly? Can’t remember, we fight about everything,” Donghyuck replies.

“We don’t fight,” you clarify. “We discuss. And sometimes things take a bad turn. Not anymore, we learned how to survive with each other.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” giggles Yeri and you kick her knee with yours, making her groan.

Haechan sends you a look you ignore, and you go on explaining. “We were just stating our thoughts, but we weren’t exactly agreeing, and we couldn’t stop, so the Professor told us to take it somewhere else.”

“And you did? You simply could’ve stopped,” Renjun asks in disbelief. He can’t believe he thought you were normal.

“We had business to settle, okay?” You explain.

“Oh, and we sure did,” Haechan chuckles under his breath or so he thinks because the room goes quiet, and you think you want to strangle him.

You have to come up with something.

“You only won because I gave up,” you say, looking into his eyes, seeing the devilish glint behind, warning him to not say a word more.

“You always give up if there’s a prize you can take,” he clicks his tongue and you gulp.

“Oookay, weird tension in the room, it’s clear the only one not getting laid is me,” Yangyang cheers, bringing you two out of your competitive stare. You’d like to complain, saying it’s not what he thinks about, but you’re still stuck, brain busy thinking about something else.

“This night it’s boring, if we don’t do something funny, I’ll act out my plan of killing you all,” Renjun says, standing up.

“I still don’t know whether you’re joking or not,” Mark says.

“Because I’m not.”

“Caught you!”

“Hyuck!” You scream, turning around, holding a hand over your chest as his arms wrap around your waist and his chin rests on your shoulders. “You could’ve killed me.”

“You’re eating cake without me, that’s the crime,” he says, pulling your hand to his face to take a bite.

You roll your eyes. “Jaemin told me he had to store it away because Jeno and Minjeong were eating it all.”

“So, you were hiding, uhm?”

You hum, cutting another piece and diving it in two to give it to him. “He said I could eat it. Also, I think I had too much alcohol and I need to put something in my stomach.” You sit on the countertop and he takes his place between your legs.

“Am I allowed to eat it?”

“I guess so, I’ll take the blame if he says something,” you giggle.

“Don’t think he will notice, too busy dancing with somebody,” he says, hinting at Ningning.  

“They look cute together,” you say, smiling fondly.

“Oh, they do. If only he could grow some balls and confess,” he says.

“Do you confess, Casanova?” You tease.

Donghyuck smirks. “How does it look like?”

You shrug. “Don’t know, you tell me.”

He rolls his eyes before he realizes you two are not together. “Wait, are we… no, never mind,” he says, pulling away, and turning to the door.

You grab his hand, stopping him. “What?”

“Jeno called,” he lies, trying to escape your hold.

“No, he didn’t. He’s sitting with Yangyang passing the blunt around,” you jump off the top and face him. “Are we?” You’re not sure what you expect him to say.

Donghyuck gulps, struggling to keep his eyes on you. “Are you fucking somebody else?”

Whatever you were expecting, that wasn’t it. “Are you?”

“I asked you first,” he retorts.

You blink. “Oh, really?

“Yeah, really.”

“Do I look like I know somebody else besides us?”

“Jeno likes you, and he told me you two are texting.”

“As friends, Hyuck. I already told him I’m taken — I’m not, I’m… I’m taken by other things in my mind. Uni, fighting you, especially fighting you.”

Donghyuck snickers, not really what he expected from you, but deep down —not even so deep, truly— what he wanted to hear. “Yeah, I agree, you’re taken, mostly by me.”

You’re about to retort but he slips from your hands too soon, leaving the small kitchen to reach the others. But you’re smiling. It’s a dumb, small smile that lights up your face in the dark of the night, and your heart pumps. You two didn’t name any of this, but —bickering aside— you objectively know you acted like a couple. It’s not about the sex, it’s about everything else. He started to pick you up before lessons so you could go to class together and sit next to each other —while he did everything he could to distract you. You ate at your friends’ table at lunch, went out for dates, and occasionally even slept over. You are taken and probably for longer than you even realise. Donghyuck started filling your days months ago, and even your life.

You’re still caught up in your thoughts that you don’t hear Ningning enter the kitchen.

“I spy with my little eyes something suspicious,” she sings while pouring herself a glass of water, leaning against the countertop where you were before.

“First Yeri, and now you?” You ask, a small smile curling your lips while you walk to lean next to her.

Ningning gasps offended. “She knew before me? Is this how you betray me? After I helped you style your hair?”

You laugh, resting your head on her shoulder, and inhaling deeply; she always smells nice. “I didn’t tell her,” you confess. “Honestly, I don’t even know myself.”

You can’t see her, but you know she’s smiling when her arms wrap around your body.

“So, what is that, love?”

You hum. “I don’t know what it is, but I know I like it.”

“I knew you were a romantic at heart,” she jokes, pulling away to squeeze your cheeks.

“I’m just happy. I don’t think I need to put a name on this… on this happiness.”

A big smile spreads on her face and her eyes crinkle, her hand softly caresses your cheeks. “It’s not only Donghyuck, is it?”

You nod, pressing your lips in a flat line because something about this feels too emotional for you. It’s 11 pm and there’s faint music playing in the living room while people laugh, and joke, sharing a blunt or bottles of alcohol. And you’re in the kitchen talking about a boy you want to kiss and strangle with who, you’re sure, can now consider your best friend. It’s the stupid fun of the early 20s. It’s the sense of something you’ve been missing for too long since you only let yourself be absorbed by your studies, leaving friendship behind.

And when a lonely tear rolls down your eyes, Ningning coos, gently wiping it away. “I’m happy,” you say, nodding.

“I know,” she replies, cupping your face.

“I’ve been on my own since I came here and I never regretted believing in my dreams even if it meant leaving the ones I loved the most behind, but now I realize what I’ve been missing,” you confess. “I love that they’re so loud they give me a headache.” You both chuckle and your hands intertwine. “And I love that we all sit together at lunch even if most of you have to run from the other side of the building. I love how none of you hesitated one moment to consider me part of your group.”

“I’m so happy you’re with us,” she says, smiling. “I guess Donghyuck does something right sometimes.”

You both laugh.

“Yeah, he definitely made my second year less boring than the first one,” you admit.

“Come here, I guess we both could use a hug,” she says, not giving you time to reply before you’re into her arms. You stay like this for a while, and you know more than before that this is what you missed the most. This is what college means. It isn’t in the loud parties, the sex, and the drugs, it’s in the people you do things with. Nine young people like you, trying to survive this craziness by being each other’s strength. You can still look at your goal right in the eye even if you have fun, even if you date, even if you have someone to walk down this road with.

“You know, I knew you were a good one when you slammed your fist on the table at lunch when he made you fuck up the essay,” Ningning confesses when you pull away.

You laugh, wiping away another tear. “I’m glad he did, I wouldn’t be here today if he didn’t.”

“You and Ning disappeared in the kitchen before,” Donghyuck says, searching in his closet to find something to make you wear for the night.

“Yeah, we talked about us. I know I might not show it, but I’m glad I found this,” you sigh. “I like them.”

Donghyuck smiles, sitting next to you. “They all like you just as much.”

“It’s like I finally have a place where I belong. I have people to rely on, so maybe I’ll learn to stop wanting to deal with everything by myself.”

“I told you life doesn’t have to be lonely,” he says. “I know that coming from me sounded like sabotage but I meant it. Having someone by your side makes everything easier.”

You smile and nod, grabbing the shirt he’s handing you. “I hate to say it, but you were right,” you chuckle. He doesn’t reply and you don’t drag the conversation, simply enjoying the thousands of words you two should be telling each other, but are not ready to face, yet.

“Can I use the bathroom? I need to freshen up a bit,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence. Most of the others are crushed in the living room, you think you saw Ningning sneak into Jaemin’s room but you were too caught up in Donghyuck to be sure of that, Renjun and Jeno might still be awake but you’re sure that all the weed they smoked won’t make them pay attention to you.

“Sure, if you need towels they’re in the cabinet under the sink,” he tells you, and soon you’re out of the room.

It doesn’t take you long to clean yourself up; you wash your face and steal someone’s products to get rid of your make-up, quickly get rid of your dress, put on some perfume —you’re pretty sure it’s Donghyuck’s cause you smell like him— and then wear the shirt he borrowed.

Once you’re done, you quickly make your way to the kitchen, and, passing in the living room, you see your assumptions are right; there’s no sight of the two love birds, and the only ones awake are Renjun, Jeno and Yeri, while the others are crushed on the sofa. You expect a remark from the girl, but she barely notices you, too busy playing —trying to— something with the other two.

After a few minutes, you’re back in Donghyuck’s room, and you notice he’s changed into something comfortable, too. He’s lost folding his clothes, and you let yourself get lost in his beauty. Too busy fighting him and trying to prove something, you realize you never noticed the smallest details that make him so handsome. The bridge of his nose, his soft lips, the moles on his cheek, his soft brown hair falling around his face.

“You alright?” His voice brings you out of your daydreams and you nod shyly, feeling embarrassed for being caught staring.

“Yeah, everything fine,” you reply, quickly walking to the bed. You see him staring at you with a confused expression, but avoid any awkward moment by reaching for your phone and pretending to be busy. But you’re not busy, you’re confused. You’re not used to this, any of this. Your nights have always been filled with yourself and books (whether for school or your entertainment), and if you felt wilder a movie, rare were the occasions when you would go out with your friends. And regret is creeping on your back. You feel like you lost a lot, you feel like you’ve punished yourself to get where you are now. And you think about love, how you treated your relationships, how little weight you gave them. And when you think about what you felt in these past months you wonder if you have ever even been in love.

“Remind me to never make you drink again if you get this sulky.” Once again, Donghyuck’s voice brings you back to earth, and when you turn toward that sound, you see he’s sitting next to you.

“I’m not sulky,” you chuckle. “I was just thinking about what I said before.”

He hums. “And?”

You shrug. “Nothing. You can’t change the past, I was just… having some bittersweet emotions.” It’s the truth, but you know that deep down your brain is trying to make you focus on the friendships because you don’t want to think about your biggest problem: the man you have by your side. This wasn’t supposed to be whatever it is. It wasn’t supposed to happen. And you don’t hate that it did, but you don’t know how to feel and act about it, cause you didn’t plan it. You couldn’t study this, you couldn’t put this on a PowerPoint and have it all laid out for you to understand it, it’s not logical, it’s not a theory, a study, a thesis, it’s emotion.

“You seemed happy before,” he whispers after a few minutes of silence passed. His hand gently rests on your stomach and you feel your heart race.

“I was,” you reply. “I am. I just wish I found this sooner, I always focused on my studies and career, and looking back at it now, it was lonely. And…” you sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “I’m jealous of you, ‘cause you managed to be at the top with all of this.”

He chuckles, but it’s a tender sound, and then smiles at you. “Well… I managed until you came around. You…” he coughs, struggling to confess, “you distracted me a bit, so I think you’re better than me at this socializing and rocking your career at the same time thing.”

You laugh. “I distracted you?”

“Just a bit, don’t get too excited,” he warns, falling deeper into the mattress and laying in silence. You have your thoughts tormenting you, but for him, it’s no different. He knows his plan failed. You’ve been filling his thoughts, days and seconds for a few months now. Even when he was studying or recording, somehow, you were always there. At first, for spite, surely, but then, it turned into something else. Hate turned into teasing, teasing turned into lust, and lust turned into something more. He knows he doesn’t just simply want you or need you. He craves you and your company, your study sessions together, your smart talks, your witty words, your annoyed eye-roll when he’s right, and the soft eyes when you listen to him. He craves you and your laugh, the suppressed one during lessons and the loud one when you are alone, or your hidden smirk when he makes you smile even if you don’t want to.

He constantly comes back to you.

“Are you listening or are you avoiding me?” You ask when he doesn’t reply to your question and he shakes his head, mumbling an apology.

“Sorry, I was thinking.”

You chuckle. “It’s alright, it was a bitter question anyway.”

“No come on, ask me again.”

“It was just for fun. I wanted to know if I was the reason why you’ve been doing a bit worst than me lately,” you say. There’s no mockery in your tone, instead it’s light and hides a timid blush as the words roll down your tongue.

Donghyuck’s body shuffles next to yours and only then you realize how intimately close you are, with your legs almost intertwined, his hand still on your stomach and his face resting on your chest. “Well, yes, you were an unexpected presence in my life, so…”

“So…?” You laugh. “Am I so hot I got you horny all the time?” You joke but he doesn’t crack a smile, instead he furrows and stands up to sit on the bed with his arms crossed.

“I’m not that horny,” he murmurs.

Your body mirrors his, and then your hands lift his chin up. “Sorry, I was kidding. I didn’t mean to offend you. I just didn’t think you thought about me that much. I wanted to be on top but not like this.”

“Technically, you’re not on top of everything, but anyway, we just spent a lot of time together, you know? So different studying methods and so on, shocked me a bit.”

You raise a brow, not because you’re so pretentious to think you distracted him that much, but because you think you learned to read him a bit and he’s not being honest at all. “Sure, and you weren’t busy thinking of me after our… dates? Coming home and texting me, and telling me how you should’ve been between my thighs instead?”

He blushes, and you can’t believe your eyes. “It only happened once, and either way I never study at night, my pretty brain can’t handle it.”

You laugh. “Your brain is pretty, now?”

“Yeah, of course, everything about me is pretty.” He shrugs.

“You’re a bit of a liar, you know? First telling me I distracted you and then taking it back, but it’s alright, I think we settled this war. We’re equal now, right?”

“I guess you could say that.”

You huff rolling your eyes. “You’re so competitive, God.” You fall on the mattress again. “But maybe it’s good, we can keep this healthy and competitive.”

He hums, thinking about it and then nods. But you don’t expect him to cage you with his body as he sits on top of you and reduces the distance between you. “Doesn’t sound bad, we could try.”

You smile, trying to act nonchalantly, but it’s hard when he’s so close; hair a mess, face tired but still so fucking handsome, and plump lips so temptingly close to yours.

“I want you,” you whisper, looking straight into his eyes even if they make your knees buckle.

“I want you, too,” he replies before diving in and kissing you.

The last weeks before finals are hectic. You and Donghyuck spend all the time studying together. When you’re not locked in the library you’re either at your or his place, and most of the time you end up sleeping over with the excuse of “spending just a few minutes together without thinking about exams.”

Yet, none of you confess anything. Your relationship lingers in that limbo.

In all that chaos, what takes you more time is the songwriting project. You spend days in the studio to record and mix it. Then when you are done, you move to the studio with Jeno to shoot the concept photos. And it would been enough for the exam, but you and Donghyuck just have to go an extra mile, making an entire booklet with the photos and the lyrics inside, the physical CD with the track, the instrumental, and an acapella version.

Even if the shooting is long and tiring, since you have to style and do each other’s make-up, and the only help is from Renjun, you have a lot of fun.

If at the start you feel a bit insecure with the poses, Donghyuck is the perfect partner to have to feel at ease. And Jeno knows how to do his job, making you feel like a queen after the first awkward shots.

“I love how the photos turned out,” Jeno cheers happily on your way to their place. “The three of you are the perfect models. I will annoy you again to build my portfolio.”

Renjun rolls his eyes as his head slams against the bus window.

You chuckle. “Come on, Jun,” you say, pinching his cheek. “You had fun too, you can’t deny that. Also, you got so many beautiful photos for free, I wouldn’t complain.”

“Free? I’d like to remind you I helped you pay for the rent,” he retorts, sitting straight again. “But yeah, I had fun,” he admits, making Jeno clap happily. “But, I will do this again only if she comes with us.”

Jeno bats his eyes at you and you snicker. “Yes, if I am what he needs to be dragged into the studio, I will come with you.”

“I love you,” Jeno screams, hugging you tight. When you hug him back, you make eye contact with Donghyuck, but he swiftly turns his head. Not quick enough to hide he’s not enjoying this so much; jaw tense, fingers closing in a fist.

You find his jealousy of Jeno quite interesting. Even if it’s true you got very close to him, it’s hilarious how Donghyuck thinks anything would happen between you two when Jeno is clearly taken by someone else; someone too busy plotting his murder to realize his feelings, but that’s another matter.

And Donghyuck shows his jealousy even more when, once at home, you sit around the table to watch Jeno post-produce the photos and create the mock-up for the entire project with your supervision.

His arm wraps around your shoulder as he keeps his leg pressed against yours, and you have to hold back a chuckle. Yes, it’s obvious there’s nothing between you and Jeno, but this makes you feel wanted, and you let him show it.

You know you’ll have to deal with other menaces tomorrow; a hangout is already scheduled in the group chat with the girls after a quick text sent right away by Yeri. You love her, you do, but without that, maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t have four other pairs of eyes set on you — Jaemin and Yangyang are very curious when they want to.

“Are you listening?” Jeno’s voice brings you out of your thoughts.

You blink twice and then mumble, “what?”

He shakes his head. “Do you like the font?”

“Oh,” you whisper. Your eyes adjust again on the screen that you were mindlessly staring at and focus on the project. “Yeah, I love it.”

“We were thinking of not putting our name on it since it’s more trendy lately,” Donghyuck says.

You nod. “Yeah, I think it’s better like this. I also love the picture, I think it would be more powerful without the name on it but we’re not that famous, yet,” you joke making them laugh.

“That’s why I didn’t make it too big, so the focus would be on you two.”

“Love it, that's perfect,” you praise. “Honestly, seeing it all almost done, I feel guilty for not giving you anything.”

Jeno shrugs. “It’s alright. I’m having fun doing this and can put it in my portfolio anyway. I did much worse and less fun for some courses.”

“We will offer you a dinner,” Donghyuck says. “Somewhere cheap, though.”

After a few hours, everything is almost done. Jeno still wants to double-check everything tomorrow before sending it to be printed but the final results won’t differ much.

“So, I think we should celebrate the project that brought you two so close,” Ningning says, winking at the last words, before raising an empty cup.

You chuckle, trying to escape Donghyuck’s hold, but it’s still firm on you. “It’s just a Uni project, there's nothing to celebrate.”

“Well, mine and Mark’s is not that good,” Yangyang snorts. “I don’t understand why you two always want to do so much extra work but whatever makes you happy.”

“We love the song,” Donghyuck replies. “And we’re proud of it so we might as well fool ourselves it might get more than 30 listens on SoundCloud.”

“For me,” Ningning says, “this is huge. One day you’ll be famous and we will get to say we were here from the start, so we need to treat ourselves and party.”

“Yes, let’s treat ourselves to the cheapest pizza on the block. Oh, how I love being an adult,” Yeri huffs, slumping on the couch. “No, but really, this is something to celebrate.” She then moves closer to you so that only you can hear. “And maybe if we get you drunk enough we’ll get juicy info before tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Fine, order these pizzas and let’s celebrate.”

The girls don’t get you drunk enough to spill anything but get themselves drunk enough that Jaemin has to drive them back to their place. Truthfully there’s nothing to say anyway. You and Donghyuck still didn’t talk, you didn’t even have sex lately. Too busy with everything, that was the last of your thoughts. But you did sleep together and basically lived in symbiosis. So?

You should feel happy about this project. Academically it will be another success, and honestly, one of your best works so far. So why do you feel this emptiness in your chest now that you’re sitting on a chair in Donghyuck’s bedroom?

This is the end. Now nothing holds you two together, and you fear that what you built over these months might not be strong enough for you to still hang out with you. You wonder if this meant anything to him. Sure, he likes you, but how much? Sex means nothing, and even if said between the lines, he got you to try out romantic things to make you come up with the song. And he succeeded. You have the song, the lyrics you tried so hard to put down. Fake dates, fake flirts, fake everything, but everything you put down is real. And it’s terrifying.

So absorbed by your torments, you don’t see Donghyuck stare at you, standing in front of you changed into fresh clothes.

“Hey.” His voice makes you flinch in surprise and quickly look up at him. There’s a frown on his face. “What’s with that face?”

You shrug, diverting the eye contact.

“Are you not happy with the result?” Donghyuck asks, grabbing the closest chair so he can sit right in front of you.  

“No, I love it. I loved everything so much and that’s why I’m sad.” There are many reasons why, and you’re not a master at dealing with too many emotions at once. Subjects? Books? Essays? Projects? They can fall and pile up on you and you won’t feel the weight of it. But real life? Feelings? Not where you excel.

“Cause you won’t have any excuses to spend time with me and see me?” He teases, chuckling. He’s still the same person you met one year ago but behind his playful voice and acts there’s something tender, at least you like to see it this way.

“Uhm, I hope we will keep seeing each other,” you confess shyly, doing everything in your power to not meet his warm gaze. His hands on his lap are a beautiful view now. “But no…”

His teasing smirk turns apprehensive. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You shrug. This should be the easy thing to confess. A bit humiliating considering showing some weakness to him still feels like letting your mortal enemy pour salt in your open wounds, but you’re hiding more vulnerable things from him.  

“Nothing but… I was so sure I didn’t want to be a singer, and I was more and more sure of working in Pr, and now… I don’t know. I loved writing the song, like I always do, but this time felt different, as if… that’s what I’m supposed to do in my life, you know?” You look up because even if you can’t take a mocking look you have to see his reaction.

He smiles, caressing your cheek. “I think you’re good at it so yeah, you should.”

You’re taken aback by that reply. Deep down you wanted him to shred your dreams cause you feel like all of this is insane, and if you have nobody supporting you maybe you won’t indulge in it. But it’s clear that Donghyuck is not an enemy anymore and has your back now.  

“Yeah but… I loved singing and doing it with you. Being in the studio, recording, but even before when we were working on the melody and everything. And working on the concept? We did all that with just one song, can you imagine what working on an album feels like?”

He smiles and nods. “Well, yeah, I fantasized about it a lot, so yes. But why is it a problem? Why can’t you pick this as a career?”

You can see in his eyes that he’s confused. Not by your change of path, but by your sudden insecurity. Deep down you’re shocked by that too. You have changed goals a few times in your academic career but somehow this feels so different.

“Cause it’s rare to make it,” you mutter, nervously playing with your hands. Truth is, the chances of failure are so big, and you’re not sure you could take it. You and your perfectionism and your need to succeed on the first try.  

“Can’t say you’re wrong, it’s hell out there, but… you’re good, and beautiful, and I’m sure that with your songwriting skills and your voice, someone will notice you.”

He had tried to make a name for himself longer than you, he knows it. During some vulnerable night conversation where you showed him your songs, he told you how many demos he had sent, and how hard he tried to build something at least on the socials. So you don’t care if his words are driven by sympathy, he could discourage you, but instead, he’s supportive, and that’s all you need.

“And what am I without your production? Will you be my Jack Antonoff?”

Donghyuck laughs. “I’d prefer to be your Aaron Dessner.”

“Yeah, fine. I like that Haechan,” you say, highlighting that name that now sounds foreign.

“I don’t want to hear that name roll from your lips anymore,” he chuckles and you hum laughing.   

“Talking about lyrics,” he says after a few seconds, the phrase lingers in the air… “this song was interesting.”

“Interesting? What do you mean? Is it bad?” Your eyes widen and the anxiety that left you jumps at you again.

He shakes his head. “I said interesting, not bad. You should know the difference.”

“It’s not funny, interesting means nothing.”

He chuckles. “Some phrases are interesting… that’s it. They look familiar.”

You feel your body burn up in flames and you have to shift your gaze from him. You should’ve scrapped that, he isn’t dumb. (You believed he was up until two seconds ago, but apparently, he was just waiting for the right moment to trap you.)

“I wonder if something, or someone,” he winks, “inspired you.”

“The sea. When we went there together. The sea inspired me,” you whisper swiftly, nervously biting the inside of your cheek. “That’s why I called it wave.”

Donghyuck laughs. “I’m not talking about the title, and you know it,” he says, resting his hand on your knee. “Flow that I’ve never felt before? Meeting you through distinctive distraction is a miracle?”

“You told me you liked it,” you say, playing innocent.

He rolls his eyes. “I do. I love it, actually. I just wanted to analyse it with you.”

You gulp when his fingers start rubbing on your skin. “We should’ve done it before recording it, don’t you think?”

He clicks his tongue. “Nah, I want to do it now. I think I already know who inspired you.”

“The sea —”

“Drop it,” he retorts sternly, squeezing your knee. “I think our plan worked. Well, unless you found someone else who inspired you to write a love song.”

“It’s barely a love song,” you stutter, body heating up.

“Right, some lyrics felt sexy,” he giggles. “You’re such a master in holding me here and there and going up and up down and down again.”

You try to scoot away, but he blocks you by putting his feet under the leg of the chair. “So what? Also, you’re dirty-minded, that’s not what it means…”

He snickers, rubbing his thumb on your cheek. “Why are you so flustered then?”

“Cause you’re too close to me, I can barely breathe.”

“Mhh… it reminds me of something.”

You roll your head back and mutter a curse under your breath. “Isn’t it what you wanted? To inspire me? I did it. I romanticized everything and we got the song.”

“Romantized everything,” he hums. “In this wave called you that’s pushing in, I fall in love. You are the center of my heart. Feeling new, feel now. The wave that started because of you, babe. Dive into the world called you. Damn, your creativity is so good, you are talented.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“No, I…” he sighs annoyed. “If you wrote it down in a song, why can’t you say it to my face?”

You gulp. “I have nothing to tell you.”

He raises a brow. “So you’re still confused. Should I satisfy you to hear you say it?”

You hide your face in your hands and groan. “Fine,” you snap. “I — I wrote that about you. And I, God, this is humiliating. You heard the song, you sang it. Do you want me to say it out loud? Was that not enough?”

Donghyuck smiles, and, for a moment, you fear he will break into a mocking laugh, but instead, his smile gets bigger. “Yes, I knew it,” he screams.

“Oh… of course it’s funny to you, maybe this is what you wanted all along, make me fall in love and then make fun of me.”

“Fall in love?” He whispers, stopping in his tracks to look at you, and only then you realise you said it loud and clear. And it’s worse than saying it in a song. “You love me seriously? Like it’s not just attraction and maybe liking me?”

You feel like choking up on tears but try not to show it. “So you can laugh at me more?”

“Why would I laugh at you? I just want to know if what you feel is real,” he replies, and somehow he sounds even more annoyed than before.

You hum and nod, no words can leave your mouth.

“Did you really think I would use this against you? Don’t you trust me?”

“I — I… I don’t know, okay? I do, but also, this was… this was all fake, just to write that song and now it’s real. And it was never supposed to be real, and maybe you never wanted me, cause I’m not your type and you hated me and we both wanted this to be over and now I feel like I can barely breathe without you, and I know that in the song I said I would’ve left the decision in your hands but the idea of you not wanting me back makes me sick and I —”

Your words fall into a void as he kisses you with no hesitation. Hands cupping your wet face and holding the back of your neck to keep you close.

“You’re so fucking stupid. So, so smart and yet such an idiot when it comes to feelings,” he chuckles when he pulls away. “You said I was an unexpected thing that completely changed your flow but do you have any idea of what you were to me? You ruined my second year,” he confesses, and your face quickly shifts into a worried expression, but he clears your doubts right away.  

“I thought I could beat you, I thought I could have the upper hand and… you messed up my days and nights. I thought you couldn’t fill up so much of my time when I already had so many friends but, fuck, I was wrong. And instead of distracting you, I let you distract me.”

“But I — I didn’t plan it, I didn’t want to —”

His thumb shushes you as his eyes crease in a smile. “You didn’t do anything, I just miscalculated. I didn’t know the amazing person you are, and let jealousy consume me before love took its place without me even noticing.”

You almost gasp. “Love? So, you do love me back?”

He nods. “Strong word, I know. But goddam, you were ten times cheesier in the song.”

You laugh and he does the same.

“But I am hurt, though. I can’t believe you thought I was playing you.”

“What were the chances you were going to fall for me, too? Nobody ever falls for me.”

“Good thing you only needed me to fall for you,” he says, kissing you. “So… did you fall for me at the beach?”

“I was confused back then. I knew I felt something but I didn’t know what it was. I thought it was only attraction, but at the same time, I felt like I needed you, you know?”

“And to think I wasn’t even sure of taking you there,” he giggles.

“Really?”

He nods. “I wanted to study, I already felt like I was falling behind and I thought I could use those three days to catch up, but then you crossed my mind and I forgot about the rest.”

You look down to hide the big smile on your face. No, you’re not happy you almost made him fail his second year in this war, but you love knowing how much he cares about you. The old Donghyuck would’ve never confessed this, he would’ve never shown how weak you make him. But now he’s proudly telling you how you genuinely occupied his thoughts.

“I know I didn’t show signs of failure, but you did succeed in your plan just a bit.”

He snorts. “Don’t need fools gold.”

“No, I’m serious. I mean, maybe you’re right, you didn’t, but I think you succeeded in something better. You showed me I can achieve my academic goals and still live life. You showed me so much. I had fun on my own, and I loved it, but I also only had myself and nobody to count on, and that sucks.”

“I didn’t do it.”

“Yes you did, you pushed me out of my comfort zone and trust me, I did panic sometimes. I just hide it better. But you gave me the chance to meet seven amazing people allowing me in your friend’s group. Some of you have known each other for so long, that’s probably when I should’ve put my heart at ease and realised you truly cared about me.”

“You fail to understand how likeable you are. Everybody loves you, you just don’t pay them attention.”

You shrug. He’s probably right. You never cared about that, but you won’t start caring about it now. You found your people, you found your place.

Staying at his place for the night is tempting, but, truth be told, you two want to be on your own on your first night as lovers. So, with the excuse of wanting to eat an ice cream (not an excuse, you will eat ice cream), you slip out of the place.

The others don’t care. Honestly, it’s clear that everyone except you two was expecting this ending, but you will deal with this tomorrow at lunch with the girls. For now, you chuckle at Jeno’s wink before he rests his head on Renjun’s shoulder again, who barely waves goodbye before going back to the movie they’re watching. Mark seems to be the only one confused at the way your arms are linked when you walk through the living room, but you’re sure that Yangyang, who has a teasing smirk on his face, will fill him in as soon as you’re out of the door. Jaemin will sneak at the girls’ hang-out tomorrow, his face lets it all known.

“I love this place,” Donghyuck says when you enter your apartment.

“Really? This hole?” You chuckle, leaving your bag at the door and getting rid of your shoes.

He nods. “It’s cosy and quiet, and I get to have you all to myself.” Before he finishes the phrases he pulls you in his hold, almost making you lose your balance and you scold him.

“Can you be less clumsy?”

“Mhh... no.”

“Also, it’s not like not being alone ever stopped you from being the clingiest man on earth.”

He huffs, throwing his head back as he slowly starts walking backwards to reach the bed. “As if you don’t like it.”

“You got us many suspicious looks,” you complain.

“Girl, everybody knew about us,” he says, falling on the bed with you. “I fear they were betting on a situationship but well, we didn’t do anything to keep this on the low.”

You shrug. “Whatever,” you say, caressing his face to move the hair on his eyes. “I don’t care. Tonight I just want to think about us.”

“Now you’re talking,” he hums happily. “Can I get a chocolate-less kiss?”

You laugh. “You can get all the kisses you want.”

Your lips connect to his to start a sweet kiss that lasts for a while. You never truly pull away as your hands start moving on each other to get rid of the clothes and leave you half-naked on the bed.

“Wanna taste you,” he murmurs, rolling around so your back is on the mattress before he starts going down. His fingers hook with the band of your panties and pull them down. “A bush?”

You huff. “I was just a bit busy, and didn’t have time to shave.”

“Good. I hope you don’t find time to do it ever again,” he says making you laugh.

“You like it?” You ask.

“I love it,” he replies.

You don’t have time to react because his lips are on you as soon as he's done talking. Your hips buck up and you fail to hold back the moans.

Donghyuck takes his sweet time, licking up stripes to get you wet before he starts sucking on your hardening clit.

Your head rolls back against the pillow and your hands can’t help but tangle in his hair to pull him closer. The groan of pleasure that comes out of his mouth at your gesture makes you tremble.

“So fucking sweet for me,” he mumbles against you. “My sweet girl.”

A dumb grin curls your lips and your eyes try to open to get a glimpse of him. You regret that action cause his pretty face smashed against you as he eats you out as if you're his last meal sends shivers straight to your core.

“Please,” you whimper, making him open his eyes to stare at you. Your throat tightens and you feel like you might pass out from that, but still force yourself to finish the phrase. “Don’t stop, you’re so good. I — I never felt like this.”

He grins, pulling away only to reply. “Yeah? Am I that good?”

You groan. He’s still so competitive and always has to prove a point. But you don’t care. That’s fun. That’s what you love about him. “Yes, you’re that good. Just please, keep doing it.”

“Never planned of stopping.”

When his mouth starts moving on you again you see stars. Your neck falls behind, enjoy the softness of the pillow, and you stop trying to keep it together, moaning loudly and chanting his name.

His hands wrap around your thighs, keeping you close to his mouth. And each flick of his tongue pushes the climax closer, making you see stars.

Your breath gets messier as you hit your peak and pleasure takes over your body as you let go to that blissful sensation running inside you.

You’re still gasping for air when you feel his fingers prodding at your entrance, slowly entering you.

“Hyuck, what are you—?”

“I want you to be ready for me,” he says. “I won't make you come another time, I promise. Just getting you wetter.”

You mumble a sound that makes no sense before you decide to relax and enjoy the sensation. It’s not like you would ever complain about his fingers, you simply don’t want to be too sensitive already. But he’s true to his words, his two fingers fuck into you, curling up right on your sweet spot, turning you on more and coating them white.

“Always so good for me,” he praises when he pulls out, sucking them harshly before he leans in to kiss you. Your hands wrap in his hair as you pull him closer, letting your legs wrap around his waist to pull him down. “Damn, calm down,” he chuckles close to your lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know, but I want you close.”

Donghyuck smiles. “Unhook your legs for a moment and I’ll be as close as possible.”

Reluctantly, you do as ordered, knowing that as soon as he’ll slip in, your legs will be exactly in the same place.

You barely pay attention when he does, too focused on the gentle kisses he's leaving on the crown of your head, cheeks and neck. Your eyes only open when he bottoms in and brings your legs around himself.

“Happy now?” He asks, brushing behind a few strands of hair that fell on your face.

“More than happy,” you reply smiling. Your body moves on its own when your hips buck up against him, eliciting a deep moan to slip past his lips.

That’s the sign he needs to know he can start moving. One hand places on your waist to keep you in place and the other supports his body as he starts dragging his hips out.

You can feel your heart skip a beat when he leans down and hides in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “You always smell so good, that’s what tricked me to always be close to you,” he mumbles, nibbling your skin.

You chuckle, shaking your head. Even now he has something to say. Still, his words don’t distract him from his actions. With each stroke, he hits deep inside of you, hitting sensitive spots that make your toes curl and your fingers close into fists on the sheets.

After finding the perfect angle, Donghyuck starts speeding up, his thrusts not harsh but fast enough to build up a steady rhythm. And, with each one, you feel a wave of pleasure invading you.

“Come here,” you whisper, cupping his face to pull him close. “Wanna kiss you.” Your lips are on his right away and you both let go to a long passionate kiss as the hold of your legs around his waist tightens. One hand leaves his face to run on his back, feeling his muscles flex.

Your moans get louder with every passing second but they end up muffled in the messy kiss you’re still sharing.

When his hand sneaks between your bodies, so he can touch your clit in quick circular motions, you know you won’t last much longer. Your walls clench hard around him, and more wetness coats him as your hips buck up for more friction. And the last drop comes from his lips, leaving yours to wrap around your sensitive nipples.

“Hyuck,” your voice trembles as you call for him. Pleading eyes looking up at him. You should say something sex-related, maybe praise how good he’s making you feel, or how close you are, but even if those are the thoughts on the tip of your tongue, the words that come out are completely different. “I love you,” you whisper in a hush, feeling the weight disappear from your chest. Saying it clearly is like finally coming to the real realization.

Donghyuck smiles, kissing you repeatedly on the lips. “I love you, too.”

And soon after, you both reach your peak. The pleasure shoots through your bodies like fireworks in the sky.

You stay like that for a few minutes, kissing each other as you wait for your bodies to calm down.

When he slips out of you gently, putting his shirt under your body to avoid a mess, you still have a dumb, but content, smile on your face.

You don’t have the energy to move, so you lay there as you watch him move around to grab new clothes and two glasses of water. Just the time to pull yourself together, and you’re once again under the bedsheets, cuddled up against each other. You relax at the feeling of his fingers rubbing circles on the back of your neck and let his heartbeat be a sweet melody.

Mamma Mia is playing on the TV, but none of you has much energy to sing along to ABBA’s songs —he has a bit more than you as he hums the words.

When he chuckles, you look up at him.

“What’s so funny?” You ask, staring at the tv with a frown on your face. The SOS scene not being exactly one of the funniest one.

“I was thinking about us,” he says.

“I do hope we won’t end up like this.”

“Yeah, no, but you ended up being my Waterloo, I guess,” he whispers, looking at you. And then you get it, remembering when he sang it to you.

“I told you,” you reply, making him gasp offended. “What? You expected me to say something nice? You mocked me, you bragged and I cursed you with eternal love for me.”

Donghyuck laughs and then wraps his arms around you to pull you flatter against him, resting his chin on your head.

“You know this doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying to beat you, right?” He chuckles, but when you lift your gaze, getting a glimpse of him, you see his serious expression. And you hope he's true to his intention and that that spark set by your ambition will never die.

You smile smugly before relaxing against his warm embrace. “Yeah, but we’ll see if I’ll let you.”

YEARS LATER

“Is everything alright? Why are you looking at us like this?” You ask, shifting on your seat on the couch, looking at the girl in front of you.

“Is it true?”

“What?” Donghyuck says.

“Is it true that you two couldn’t stand each other?” She says, big brown eyes staring at you with curiosity.

You quirk a brow, giving your full attention to your daughter. “Why this sudden question?”

“Cause it’s embarrassing to see tweets of people going insane over you two, but also I think it’s unfair how these strangers seem to know more about my parents than me.”

You and Donghyuck laugh. “And what do they say?"

She rolls her eyes. “That they can’t believe you hated each other and that you started dating her to distract her but ended up falling for her?”

You look at each other smirking before a tender, nostalgic smile takes its place.

“Would it be so terrible?” He asks, tilting his head.

She thinks about it for a moment and then replies. “It would be a bit embarrassing for you, Dad. But also... cute. So?”

“I’d say it’s true,” he replies, shrugging.

“Wait, so you really started dating because you hated each other?” She screams, sitting straight on the loveseat, leaning toward you with her body.

You chuckle. “We didn’t hate each other. We believed we could outdo the other. And your father did too much, as always.”

“You were miserable before me,” Donghyuck replies, tightening his hold around your waist. “I had a plan, and it would’ve worked.”

You roll your eyes. “Imagine thinking you could make me fall in love and not fall in love with me,” you say to your daughter. “I was a real heartbreaker back then.”

“You still are,” she replies, smiling. “My friends go insane every time they realize who my parents are.”

Your daughter never brags about being your child. The famous singer, producer, and dancer Haechan, and you, who had a good launch as a singer before you realized that wasn’t your world and decided to stick to be a choreographer and PR manager (well, mostly Donghyuck’s choreographer and his manager). But everyone close to her knows who she is, and it’s not easy to act nonchalantly about it.

She has heard many stories about you two. The gossip about your story running wild since you broke into the industry. But you never sat down and explained it to her, not until now.

“We still have our charm,” Donghyuck laughs.

“I think the most important thing is your love and that you might be the best parents in the world. But I’m saying it officially only if you don’t turn it into a race.”

“Us? Turning something into a competition? We would never,” Donghyuck jokes.

She rolls her eyes, huffing loudly. And you can’t help but smile thinking how similar to your husband she looks right now.

“Honey, forgive us. How do you think we’re still having so much fun after all these years? That’s how we thrive, we learned how to push each other healthily.”

“Yeah, fine, I’m glad your love story is still perfect, but seriously, no competition when it comes to me. I love you both so much.”

“Come here,” you say, patting the space in front of you on the couch. Hugging her when she sits down between you two. “You are the only thing we won’t turn into a competition.”

Donghyuck hums in agreement, wrapping his arm around you two. “We both won with you.”

general taglist: @froggyforhyuck, @wingsss45, @tddyhyck, @technologyculturedneo

fic taglist: @hcluvie, @gusgus0517, @multifandomania, @413cl, @odgsuji,

@hey-hey-heybitch, @nctrawberries, @n0hyuck, @haechoshi,

@girlwholoveslpreppyattire, @viciousdarlings, @hyuckmoon,

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@beomgyusonlywife, @toroufriteh, @yesohhsehun, @shxnz

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· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Rain settles over London as if it’s seeking ownership.

Because in theory, rain does own the city of London, in its own, inscrutable way. It clings onto everything. From the glass windows of the club that are covered in a way that screams guilty, the stone railing that’s a little too romantic for a place like this, to your collarbones that stay exposed through the thick fabric of your coat— everything is decorated with small droplets of rain, creating a measured disorder that’s still stubborn enough not to leave no matter how hard you try to shake it off.

By the time the car pulls to a stop, it paints a black, sleek shadow beneath the streetlights. The street already looks polished; like it’s somewhere you don’t find yourself in unless it’s absolutely intentional, unless you’re assigned to be here, unless you have a purpose.

You watch it through the window for a little more than necessary, because every detail matters. You take notes of the grand spacing between the arrivals, the lack of hesitation at the entrance, the high chins and dark eyes of the men and women that are too powerful to face any consequences; every single one of these people belong here.

The driver opens the door of the backseat before you have time to even reach for the handle, blinking twice before stepping out to force confidence into your body. You move with ease, like you’ve practiced this a hundred times before, because you have. Because every ounce of authority in you is backed with years of practice.

Jungkook follows you a breath later, taking two large steps to claim his place right next to you, offering out an arm for you to hold onto. As he adjusts the black coat on his body, you slip your hand into the crook of his arm, fingers wrapping around his bicep.

The rain immediately catches in your hair, then the fabric on your shoulders, and then the exposed line of your collarbones. Jungkook opens the umbrella in his free hand before your blowout has time to budge out of place, holding it over your head without asking.

“Don’t scan too hard.” Jungkook says slowly, voice low enough to disappear beneath the crowd.

“Don’t teach me my job.” You mutter under your breath, eyes focused on the street instead of him.

Jungkook huffs out something between a breath and a laugh. “I’m not.” He says, adjusting the umbrella slightly, angling it so that it shields you more than himself. “I’m reminding you of it.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t forget what role you’re playing.”

He scoffs, but the corners of his mouth tilt despite himself. His posture shifts subtly, just enough to close the little space left between your bodies, like he’d been waiting for the cue.

“Please.” He huffs out, arm slipping out of yours to find your waist. His hand settles exactly where your waist curves inwards, wrapping around like it’s muscle memory. You straighten your posture at his touch, your shoulder brushing against his chest with each step you take.

Right ahead of you, the gravity around the entrance is so heavy it’s already pulling you in, before you can even acknowledge the warm coloured light painting the corners of the front door.

Jungkook leans into you, mouth grazing over your ear lightly, yet enough to let chills trail down your spine. “Camera over the left column.” He murmurs without looking, eyes flicking above the door so quickly even you almost don’t catch it. “Wide angle.” He continues.

“Mhm.’ You hum in response, a sweet yet calculated smile playing on your lips despite yourself. You place your right hand on top of his, intertwining your fingers where they sit on your waist. You pull him just a little closer to adjust your pace, slowing him down enough to fall in line with the queue of people ahead.

Up close, everything feels even more premeditated. The lighting frames the edges around the doorway instead of spilling naturally, catching in the marble in a golden hue. Two men are standing at the entrance, eyes scanning through until there isn’t an inch that’s not tainted by their gaze. They’re both in sleek black suits, dressed exactly the same as the white button-up underneath their jackets pick up the light in a way that’s too bright for a night like this.

“Good evening.” One of the men says when the two of you approach further. You don’t slow down, reaching the threshold arm in arm.

“Names?” He asks, eyes flicking between you and the list in his hand.

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate before speaking, filling in the silence half a second later. “Charles and Clara Beaumont.”

The man’s eyes linger on you for a second longer this time, scanning through the list as he matches and confirms whatever he has to.

“Of course.” He says after a beat, moving to the side just enough to offer you space to step inside. Jungkook’s hand finds the small of your back, settling in a way that grounds you, sending warmth through your body, even over the fabric of your coat.

You don’t react outwardly, not in a way that lets him know, but you do feel his touch. The inch of contact, every degree of pressure, the way it anchors you just enough to look real— feel real.

“Stay close.” He murmurs, and the door opens.

You think you’ve never entered a place more unwelcoming than whatever this is.

“Let’s not waste time.” Director Kang had said, leaning onto the table that’s placed in the middle of the meeting room as he pressed a few buttons on the control in his hand until the screen flickered to life.

A face appeared; a man with a controlled smile, a sharp navy suit, and the kind of confidence that’s effortless without needing any practice, because it had been perfected years ago.

Hugo Vane.

You already knew the name, Jungkook already knew the name, but knowing from afar and seeing are different things.

“Publicly,” Kang started, the pacing of his words measured yet nowhere near slow. “One of the most successful private investors across Europe. Real estate, insurance, hospitality. He’s in it all, has been called ‘transformational’ way too many times.”

Jungkook let out a quiet breath through his nose, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “Of course.”

“Over the last ten years, he’s built a network of high end venues across Europe– almost half in England– that function as fronts for illegal gambling, money laundering, controlled blackmail; all of it tied to names you would never expect” He breathed.

“What’s crucial is, everything is recorded. Debts, favors, leverage; we can get our hands on everything. This opening in London isn’t a random celebration, it’s a consolidation point. Real transactions will happen in the private rooms, so the main floor is useless. Your objective is simple, get inside one of those rooms, doesn’t matter which for now. We need confirmation of what happens in there. But most importantly, we need access, we need to track every breath they take.” Kang paused, exhaling through his nose.

“This man might have blood on his hands.”

After letting the words settle in the room, Jungkook tilted his head, swinging left and right in his chair. “And we’re just walking into that?” He asked.

Kang inhaled. “You’re not just walking into it.” He said, eyes flicking between the two of you before switching onto the next slide.

Two photos of a couple flashed across the screen, attractive and well dressed in the same old way people with generational wealth are.

“Charles and Clara Beaumont,” Kang explained. “Married for six years, currently in Nice, unlikely to make it.”

Jungkook’s mouth curved into a lazy grin. “So we’re them.”

“You are.”

“Six years?” You added a beat later, head tilting slightly.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, arm resting along the backrest. “Won’t take much time to look convincing.” He said, a small smirk on his face as his gaze flicked over to you.

“Gotta play your part well, Jeon.” You said, tone disinterested as your eyes still focused on the picture on the screen like it would tell you something if you stared hard enough.

A small smirk played out on his lips, cocky in a way that grew you eager to slap it off his face. “Oh, I won't be playing.’

You rolled your eyes, huffing out a short scoff. You didn’t respond to him further as your grip tightened around your pen, squinting your eyes at the man on the screen. “Backgrounds? Anything we shouldn’t look past?” You asked.

Kang nodded slowly. “Everything will be provided by tomorrow morning, study them before you fly out.”

He stepped away from the table, standing right in the middle of the two of you, hands on both your shoulders like he’s warning you. “You will not draw attention, and you will not break cover. Find the confirmation we need and leave before anyone suspects anything. Play safe this time, we’ll see what comes next when you fly back.”

“What if we get access to the recordings?” Jungkook asked.

“Great, but don’t compromise the mission for it. Like I said, play safe for now.” Kang said, Jungkook nodded once in response.

You crossed your arms over your chest, biting the corner of your lips. “What about surveillance?”

“Everywhere. Which means whatever you do,” Kang answered until Jungkook cut him off, leaning forward, settling his elbows on the table. “We have to sell it.”

Kang lookwd at him. “Yes.”

“--Champagne?” The server asks, cutting through the memory with a sharp edge. You blink once, letting the room fold back into place with no more than a subtle shiver. So subtle that even Jungkook almost misses it despite being so close to you, to the point where you can feel each other’s pulses thudding under your skin. 

Your body retakes everything all at once; the gold light, murmur of voices that let out no more than a few low chuckles, the weight of Jungkook’s hand still resting around your waist like it never left.

Something almost flutters in your chest. 

You reach for the tray, taking a glass without any hesitation. “Thank you.” 

Jungkook takes one a second later, body moving slower than yours. Because his attention is already completely elsewhere, eyes scanning through the crowd until they settle, digging silent holes into the nape of a certain someone’s neck. 

“Right side.” Jungkook murmurs when the server disappears, eyes still stuck on the said man. 

But you don’t turn around, now having years of experience in the job. Your hands reach for your purse, grabbing a hold of lipstick and a mirror. You drop the cap of the lipstick into your purse before opening the mirror with one hand, reapplying your lipstick as your eyes scan around the whole venue through the small mirror. 

You take half a step to your left before he comes into your sight. Dark eyes, sharp jawline, navy suit tailored to fit his body without a single crease, exactly like Hugo Vane.

But younger. 

“Hugo’s son.” You answer quietly, eyes on the mirror as you pat the lipstick lightly onto your lips. Jungkook’s eyes flick towards you for a beat, towards your lips. It lasts shorter than a second, maybe less than half a second, but it does happen. And you notice. 

Jungkook hums, grip tightening on your waist. “Thought so.” 

The man moves through the room without stopping, like he doesn’t need to, because it’s being cleared for him before he can have the time to complain. It’s not obvious, there is no dramatic space as he steps through, but there is a quiet shift in people’s demeanour. The way conversations pause just enough, the way bodies angle themselves just slightly, the way the room bends and molds around him and not the way around. 

You try not to drown in the space he leaves behind, because it doesn’t settle, it knocks your breath out in a way you don’t know how to explain. You don’t get anxious often– no, you never get anxious. But something about the way he silently grabbed the room and bent it without anyone noticing causes something unsettling to form somewhere in your stomach. 

How he moves is enough to tell you he’s not just wandering, he’s leading something. You don’t follow him immediately, letting the time stretch and the distance breathe. But Jungkook does still for a second, hand dropping from your waist until it wraps somewhere between your wrist and hand. 

Your eyes briefly flick over to the hall he disappears behind, watching the way the door swings back and forth ever so subtly. Of course, Jungkook notices your stare, eyes following the direction of your gaze. 

“That’s our way in.” He says, his hand holding yours properly now. 

“That’s not a way in.” You mutter through your teeth. “That’s access we don’t have.” 

He shifts his body slightly, adjusting you along with him so that you’re angled the opposite way. “That’s access we will have.” 

He pulls you fully now, your face almost crashing into his back as he moves without a warning. Jungkook walks fast as you trail behind, taking steps that are short, yet as swift as the height of your heels allow.

When you’re halfway through the corridor, Jungkook pulls you closer into him. But it’s different to the closeness you’ve been maintaining so far. This time, you feel his cologne filling up your nostrils every time he shifts, the way his chest rises and falls whenever he breathes. This time, he pulls you so close that turning your head means something you don’t want to say out loud. 

So you don’t. 

“Someone’s watching.” He says into your ear, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know.” You reply, back pressed into his. Of course you know, because someone has been watching. Someone has been watching you for so long that the feeling of it transitions into a pattern, the kind you notice even when you try not to. Here, people don’t scan, neither do they hold your gaze; but they do reappear. You swear you see the same people all at the same places at the same times; like they’re circling around certain spots ith purpose rather than simply attending an opening.

“Good.” Jungkook says before turning you around, thumb pressing lightly against your wrist. Maybe it’s a cue, maybe it’s a warning, you have no idea which. Because there’s no time for you to figure it out, because Jungkook leans in when you expect it the least.

He’s so much closer than necessary, closer than professional, and the way your body reacts is just as– maybe even more– unprofessional. 

His voice drops by an octave, words escaping his lips before they disappears somewhere on your skin. “Then let’s give them something to look at.” 

He pulls your body closer into his by your hands, hooking them around his neck before he lets his hands drop down to your waist. You take notice of how slow they move, because they don’t really drop down, they slide.

It feels intentional, like he’s actually caressing your body with care instead of putting on a show. Your breath catches before you can stop yourself. And even though

you get it together quickly, Jungkook notices. 

“Relax.” He says, forehead pressing against yours, his breath hot against your skin. 

“I am relaxed, but you’re overdoing it.” You say, hands settling where he put them. 

“No, you’re underdoing it.” Your jaw tightens at the words, and you almost roll your eyes. Almost, because right now, you definitely have way too much attention on you to slip even a little. 

So despite your words, your hands move. They scratch the nape of his neck before disappearing in his hair, fingers curling lightly until they’re tangled inside. 

“Your left,” You whisper against his mouth. “Same man, still watching.” 

“Mhm.” He hums. “Let him.” But his eyes are already closed, body leaning even more into yours as if there is any space left. Your hands drop from his hair to his shoulders, and before you know it, Jungkook’s lips are on yours. 

It takes you a second to shake yourself out of the shock, letting yourself melt into the kiss as his soft lips move on yours with ease, like they belong there, like this is normal for you to do. Your eyes flutter shut, hands roaming all around his shoulders. You flinch when he gives your ass a squeeze, sending a tingle through your legs. 

One of his hands raises up until it reaches your face, cupping your cheek as his thumb trails softly along your jaw. He forces your mouth open with his thumb, pulling down your bottom lip slowly, and you grant him access without thinking. 

A small moan escapes your lips when his tongue slides into your mouth, and Jungkook swears his pants are going to rip right on spot if you keep sounding like that. He feels something fluttering in his chest, something he knows he has been suppressing for a long time now. So he just pulls you closer, and lets his mind drift away from anything and everything for just second, focusing on you only. 

Until someone clears their throat. 

“Mr. and Mrs–” 

Your whole body stills, unable to move even an inch. But that’s fine, because couples like this don’t break apart for interruptions. Jungkook lets his teeth pull onto your bottom lip for one last time before breaking apart, slow enough so that you can gather yourself. 

He does pull away, but his hand doesn’t leave your waist. And for a split second, he doesn’t even turn his head. 

“--Beaumont.” The staff continues. 

Both of you shift your gazes towards him, acting completely calm and unbothered. “Yes?” Jungkook asks politely, brows raised only slightly. 

The man gives you a measured smile. “Mr. Vane is a man of discretion.” 

Touché

“If you would like somewhere more private,” He continues, gesturing subtly towards a door somewhere along the corridor. “We can accommodate you.” 

There it is. 

Though, you don’t answer immediately, letting the question rest for a second or two in order to make it feel real. Not eager, not hesitant, but rather like it’s something you’re used to. 

Jungkook glances down at you, offering a look that’s not really asking, because he already knows the answer. Just something that’s checking, something that lets him know everything is fine. You tilt your head slightly, the corner of your mouth lifting just enough so that Jungkook notices, yet the man doesn’t. 

He turns his head towards the man. “Of course.” 

The man steps aside, letting the corridor fall open and twist into something darker. Jungkook’s hand shifts at your waist, guiding you through the hall. And this time, you just let yourself melt into the comfort of his presence. Because resistance doesn’t really mean anything anymore. Because you know that somewhere along your performance, something slipped. The control, the acting– whatever you call it. What’s important is that neither of you really acknowledged it. 

The door closes behind you softly, a sound that’s too little for a door this heavy. It doesn’t really echo, doesn’t physically linger either. But still, for a second, you can’t find it in yourself to move. You don’t have to look at Jungkook to know he hasn’t either, you can feel it in the way the air shifts around him. His legs don’t carry him anywhere when the door clicks shut, eyes roaming around the room as the rest of his body stays still.

The room is quieter than you expect it to be. It’s not empty, not silent; there’s music humming faintly from somewhere behind, walls filtering out the bass until it nearly doesn’t even reach your ears. But somehow, you still feel it thudding under your ribs, hard and heavy until it stings somewhere you can’t quite reach. 

But everything feels more uncomfortable than you imagined, because even in a room as private as this one, there is intention behind every little detail. The deep brown of the leather couch, the two untouched glasses on the table already filled with whiskey too bitter for your taste, the light that’s even dimmer, even warmer compared to the outside– everything is arranged like they expect you to sit, to drink, to stay.

To forget. 

When you take a step forward, heels sinking into the carpet, Jungkook’s hand doesn’t leave your waist. 

If anything, it settles deeper. 

Jungkook shifts his weight from one leg to the other, his chest pressing closer into your back as he leans in slightly, just enough for his mouth to brush your ear. “Two cameras.” He whispers. “One above the mirror, one across the wall.” 

You don’t look, because you never do, because you never have to when it’s Jungkook who warns you. Instead, your hand moves to your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear as your gaze drifts lazily across the room, a little relieved that you’re finally where you’re supposed to be, doing what you’re supposed to do. 

Your fingers graze the edges of the mirror on the wall, mentally taking a note on how something is off about it, in a way you can’t exactly point a finger on. The frame feels too smooth on your skin, too flat for something that’s embroidered romantically. 

Your reflection stares back at you the same way it always does. Hair perfect, posture straight, lipstick faintly smudged because of the kiss you just shared; it’s completely untouched. 

But something is still off. The angle is wrong, your frame is slightly delayed, the glass is too clean that it’s suspicious. And finally, as your fingers keep grazing around the edges in hopes of finding something worth pocketing, something red winks at you. 

“They’re recording.” You say, voice breathy, almost distracted. 

Jungkook hums lowly behind you, eyes focused elsewhere. “Of course they are.” 

His hand leaves your waist for the first time since you walked in, stepping aside to take everything in properly. His absence hits you immediately, skin turning cold beneath the fabric on your body without the warmth of his touch. You try to ignore the feeling, you really do, but it lingers somewhere between the light chill of the room, and your pulse that’s now a little loud. Too loud that you feel it thud in your ears. 

But suddenly, something louder than the hard pulsing of rhythms fly in from behind. It doesn’t come from the hallway– no, it’s deeper than that. The voices are muffled, the words are whispered discreetly and are chosen with care; private enough to pull a tight knot in your stomach. 

You still without realizing, eyes widening only slightly as your hands rub themselves onto the sides of your coat. Jungkook notices it immediately, eyes shifting onto you before he lets his hand find yours. His fingers slip between yours, gliding with ease as if this is the most natural thing for you to do. His hold grounds you. You have no idea how or why, but it does, and your grip tightens around his beneath awareness. 

Jungkook had never been easy to read. 

You’ve shared way too many long flights, way too many late night debriefs. Yes, he was a little too flirty sometimes. And yes, you were aware of his attraction towards you. But you never thought it was anything near serious. At the end of the day, you were just coworkers who, in reality, couldn’t even properly get along.

Despite his cocky and flirty persona, Jungkook isn't a careless man. He never lets something slip before weighing it over and over again, never lets something mean too much.

You always thought it meant nothing to him, that he was just acting a certain way to get on your nerves, that this was just the kind of person he is.

Oh boy were you wrong. 

“Wall behind the couch.” You say, gesturing towards where the voices are coming from. Jungkook turns slightly, angling his body just enough to follow the line of your sight without making it obvious. 

There’s a panel there, a seamless way that leans into another room, almost invisible even to you despite how carefully you’re looking for it. Somewhere between a breath and a flick of your eyes, Jungkook moves. His body works around yours swiftly, turning you before you can process it, pressing your back into the wall you had just been gesturing at. 

Your breath catches, more from the sudden closure than anything else, your hands instinctively finding his chest as he closes the distance between you. The room, the air, even voices; everything feels smaller like this. Like it’s just the two of you and no one else who are existing in this space. 

“What are you doing?” You ask under your breath, but it doesn’t land the way it usually does. Because he’s already closer than what’s professional, closer than what’s safe. 

Jungkook lifts his index finger, placing it on top for your lips. “Shh.” He shushes you, brows raised slightly. 

A voice filters in, dark and hoarse. “...this wasn’t part of what we shook hands on.” 

Something shifts on the other side of the wall, distorted in a way that doesn’t allow you to hear everything properly. “We can make a few adjustments.” Another man answers, his tone noticeably calmer. 

“Hugo’s son.” Jungkook whispers, his eyes staring right into yours. 

You grab his hand, pushing it off your face with a huff. “What even is his name?” You ask, face scrunched in confusion at the sudden realization. 

Jungkook shrugs, letting the voices of the two men fill in the room. “That’s not how your father cooperates.”

“My father isn’t here tonight.” 

Your breath stills, wide eyes lifting up to catch Jungkook’s, filled with unease. 

How the fuck is Hugo not here? 

That throws everything off. Because Hugo Vane not being here doesn’t feel like an absence, it makes you feel his presence even more, settling under your bones with an ache you don’t like. Because if Hugo isn’t here, because if he didn’t even bother getting out of his way to come here, this isn’t just an opening that covers a few illegal exchanges. It’s something else entirely, something that has been in motion for a lot longer than you knew of. 

And whatever you walked into tonight is bigger than the room you’re standing in. 

The other man starts. “If anything goes wrong–” 

“It won’t.” Hugo’s son cuts him off, voice steady like it’s forcing everything into exactly where he wants.. There’s a pause, a beat filled with silence before he continues. “Everything is already in place.”

The words sound like a trap. 

When your eyes flick back to Jungkook, you realize he’s already looking at you, eyes a little too empty to your liking. He looks like he’s thinking about nothing and everything at the same time. So you lift your hand, shoving his chest lightly to recollect his attention. 

“Jungkook, focus.” You murmur through your teeth. 

But he doesn’t react immediately, not properly at least, because his hand is still holding yours, his arm is still around your waist. And instead of loosening his hold or giving you space to breathe, his grip tightens, fingers curling around you like he’s trying to ground the two of you at the same time.

Then, his hand moves. Not away, of course not. It shifts from your waist, sliding down to your hips. Though the movement is slow, like he’s giving himself time to stop, to pull back into whatever control he has been holding onto all night. 

And you can’t find it in you to move. 

“They’re watching.” He says quietly, thumb grazing circles on your hip. 

There’s no fucking way he’s doing that as performance. 

“I know.” You respond, eyes stuck on his like they’ll bleed into blindness if you tear them away. Your voice is softer now, breathy in a way that makes Jungkook lose his mind, not that he’d ever tell you. 

But right now, you too know that something shifted, that this doesn’t feel like just a show anymore. 

Jungkook exhales through his nose, slow and rough, closing his eyes along with the breath he lets out. “I’ve been trying not to do this.” He starts, taking a step closer as if it’s possible. “But you’re making it so fucking hard.” 

For a second, you consider pretending to not understand what he means, almost tilting your head with oblivious eyes. But halfway, you decide against it, sharply inhaling the breath he just exhaled. 

But the space between you is too little– no, it doesn’t even exist anymore. The room feels smaller, the air feels thicker, and the muffled voices of the two men disappear completely behind the wall when he lets his body lean a little more into yours. 

At your lack of response, Jungkook lifts the hem of your coat, giving your ass a squeeze above the thin fabric of your dress. You moan involuntarily, head falling back until it hits the hard wall behind you, a little harsher than you would’ve guessed. 

“Tell me to stop now.” He says, voice low in a way that’s barely above a whisper. “Because I won’t.” 

You crash your lips into his. 

Maybe it’s the adrenaline, maybe it’s the walls, or maybe the fact that you’re being watched and still choosing this anyway. 

Or maybe, it’s just him. 

You don’t know, you can’t even think straight right now. Because the second your lips meet his, everything else collapses into a haze, way too easily. You lose your last remaining hold on everything you’ve been trying to build since even before you stepped out of the car tonight. The mission, Hugo, his son, anything and everything that’s currently going on behind the wall, even the cameras you’re fully aware of– they all blur into something distant. 

You’ll deal with those later. 

A swift feeling of surprise takes over Jungkook when it’s you who breaks the tension first, but he melts into the kiss without giving you time to recalibrate your actions. Your hands settle on his shoulders, fiddling with the thick fabric of his coat before slipping it down his shoulders, letting it fall onto the floor. Once it’s off, your hands move quickly on his dress shirt, unbuttoning it eagerly. 

Jungkook lets out a groan at your touch, because he feels what’s underneath it immediately. The way you stop hesitating and start pulling him instead, the way your hands grip his shirt like you mean it, like you’re not just letting this happen.

You’re choosing this.

That’s what knocks the air out of his lungs more than anything else tonight. Because just hours ago, he was ready for resistance, he was ready for control, he has been doing it for years. Acting like you’re nothing more than occasional partners who don’t even get along for

the most part. He was ready for you to push him away if he went too far with the role, if he played it a little too well. He was ready to stop if you wanted to. 

But he wasn’t ready for this. 

He wasn’t ready for you, for your lips to meet, rid of any ounce of hesitation, like you’ve been wanting this too. 

He squeezes your ass again, with both hands this time, needing to feel every inch of your body. His eyes flutter uncontrollably when you let out another dreamy moan, something that sounds like an angelic melody to his ears. He pulls you closer by the hips, then thrusts his own to meet you halfway, biting his lip harshly at the contact. 

“Please, Jungkook.” You cry out, thrusting your hips into his once again, by yourself this time, desperate for a touch, an ounce of friction– anything.

“Please what, baby?” Jungkook responds with a question, his hot breath hitting the exposed skin of your neck, trailing all the way down to your collarbones. “Use your words, I know you can.” 

Your hands continue moving on his shoulder, sliding off his shirt once you’re done with the buttons. You find yourself needing to take a moment at the sight of his bare chest, because it’s better than any you’ve seen before. Soft, toned– maybe even a little too toned– so bare and so pretty, all for you to touch. 

Your hands roam around his chest, tracing lines along his abs. Jungkook has to bite his cheek to suppress any unplanned sounds that he realizes are way more likely to slip than he thought now that he actually feels your touch on his body.  

“Not gonna fucking beg for this.” You squeeze his shoulders, nails digging deeply into his bare skin, letting your back lean even more into the wall. 

Fuck.

Jungkook has thought about this.

In quieter moments, in between meetings and conversations when you were standing a little too close, in places where he shouldn’t have; he’s thought about it all. The way your voice would drop by and octave when you were focused, the way your skirt would ride up your thigh when you leaned in just a little lower, the way your hand would brush his like it meant nothing.

It never meant nothing to him.

He’d always pushed it down. Because this was work, because you were his partner, because he knew you better than to ruin something that functioned this well.

But now, your hands are all over his body, moving and pulling him in instead of stopping. Your lips are so fucking soft against his, making his chest tighter and head emptier until there isn’t a single coherent thought left inside. 

“Fucking tease.” Jungkook says before lifting your dress up, letting it pool around your waist. Your lips curl up in victory when he pulls your panties to the side, flicking the lips of your pussy with two fingers, feeling your slick coat his fingers. 

He plays with your clit, rubbing circles with his thumb as his two other fingers slide in and out of your wet, aching hole. Your eyes immediately fall shut at the contact, inhaling sharply when he curls his fingers at an angle he knows will make you see stars. 

Then he falls to his knees. 

Your eyes flutter open the moment you hear the way his knees hit the hard floor, lips parting as you’re taken aback by whatever he’s doing. You look down to him, brows furrowed in

confusion in a way that asks. But Jungkook doesn’t respond, he only gives you a smirk after looking up, then flicks his gaze back down again. 

His fingers wrap around the lace fabric of your black panties, pulling them down in a way that’s painfully slow considering the waterfall between your thighs right now. When the thin piece of fabric pools down on the floor, you lift your foot, kicking it to the side with your heels. 

“Jungkook,” You gasp loudly when he lifts one of your legs, hooking it over his shoulder. He starts by trailing kisses up your thighs, one hand wrapped around the soft flesh in order to steady your body. Your hands fly onto his hair before you can think, fisting and pulling at it as he gets closer and closer to your core. 

“Oh my god,” You moan, looking down at him as his tongue laps against your swollen pussy. His fingers flick your lips open, easing it up for him to work his tongue. Jungkook groans as you tug onto his hair harder, licking your pussy as if he’s savoring the taste of every flavour on his tongue. 

Your thighs clam around his head, closing with a shake you have no idea how to control. Your nails dig into your own palms by how hard you’re holding onto him, stinging in a way that’s almost painful. 

“Shit, ‘m so close.” You whimper as heat pools low in your stomach, twisting and curling so hard that you feel your legs giving out. 

“Sweetest pussy ever.” Jungkook pulls away for a split second before connecting his mouth back onto your throbbing pussy, his tongue flattening right at the part where it pulses the heaviest. 

“Jungkook, fuck.” You cum hard with a scream of his name, your head falling back onto the wall so fast it almost hurts. Jungkook licks you through your orgasm, his fingers that were once separating your lips now rubbing circles on your clit until you’re fully out of your high. 

Your breath doesn’t settle when he stands again, coming back up to his feet so fast, as if being away from you for even a second feels unbearable. You hold onto his arms to regain

your balance, and no more than a second passes before Jungkook’s lips find yours again. 

“Gonna bend you over and take you right fucking here.” Jungkook says, grunting as he pulls back. He turns you around, then pushes you over the backrest of the leather couch until your ass is perfectly aligned and in sight. Jungkook palms the soft flesh of your skin, gripping and squeezing as he tries unzipping his pants with his free hand. 

His dick springs out once his boxer is down his thighs, slapping against his abs immediately. He gives his already hardened length a few strokes before lining it up your entrance, flicking your folds with his tip, all red and angry, eager to fuck you into oblivion until your eyes roll back so hard it hurts to not see his face through the darkness. 

You whimper loudly when Jungkook enters you with a hard slam, back arching into the air instinctively. His hand settles on your waist, gripping firmly as the other doesn’t leave your waist. Your pussy feels so tight and warm around his cock, and Jungkook thinks he’s going to burst out. 

“Can’t believe you’ve been hiding yourself from me for years.” Jungkook says, words coming out shaky due to how hard he’s pounding into you. “Played so hard to get when you’re really just a slut.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” You spit back through grithed teeth, trying to suppress your moans by burying your head into the couch. Jungkook lets out a cocky chuckle that twists your nerves even more, but the annoyance is quickly swollen up by how good he’s pounding into you. 

He reaches for your dress, pulling down the fabric on your chest until the swell of your boobs spill out through your bra. Jungkook pulls down your bra next, your tits coming full on display

with a bounce. He moans when his palms settle on your soft boobs, fingers flicking and pinching your nipples until your pussy aches even harder with the sensation. 

“Right there, oh my god, right fucking there.” You choke out with the little energy you have left, feeling your orgasm closer than ever. Jungkook fists your hair when you least expect it, yanking you up so that your back arches further and his bare chest grazes over your body. 

You moan out shaky curses, not even aware of what you’re saying anymore as he keeps pounding into you from behind. Tears prickle up at the corners of your eyes, Jungkook’s grip getting tighter and tighter in your hair as he nears his high. 

“Shit,” Jungkook whimpers, dick twitching inside your walls. “Where do you want me?” He asks, voice so low and breathy that it sends you over the edge. 

“Fuck, want it inside. Don’t you dare pull out.” You say, feeling your orgasm build as his thrusts transition into something messy and sloppy.

“Oh yeah?” He breathes, pushing your body back onto the couch, his grip on your waist tightening. 

Jungkook cums hard with a loud groan, emptying all of himself into you. You push yourself back on his dick a few times before your orgasm also rips through, crying out at both how hard you’re cumming, and how good he’s filling you up. 

There’s a beat where he doesn’t pull out, cock softening inside you as his forehead presses between your shoulderblades, his unsteady breath feeling hot on your skin. Your breath also doesn’t settle instantly, chest rising unevenly as the weight of him suddenly feels too heavy on your skin. Everything falls back into place one by one, your vision drifting back as you come down from your high. The warmth of the dim lights, the closed door that’s hiding way too much behind, the quiet hum of voices that are muffled together behind the walls– it all returns all at once, like you’re being forced back into reality after being somewhere else entirely. 

Jungkook’s hand is still on your waist, grip still firm as if he hasn’t realized he has to let you go– or maybe he just doesn’t want to let you go. 

When Jungkook slides out of you, you push yourself up slightly, your body still slower than your head. “Jungkook,” You start, voice rough.

You feel his body still above you, a shift that’s so subtle yet still enough for you to feel. The realization hits him the same moment it hits you, his hand loosening on your waist.

“Cameras.” You finish, voice soft and quiet despite the weight of your words. 

That’s all it takes for Jungkook to blink back into reality, pulling back fast as if distance has the power to fix everything just like that. But surprise surprise, it won’t. 

That’s when a sound cuts through the walls, something so faint that for a second, you think that even you might have missed it. But you don’t, because you never do. You flinch regardless, fingers tightening slightly where they rest against him. 

Jungkook feels it instantly, head snapping towards the door before he flicks his gaze back to you, leaning down just a little. “What?” He murmurs in your ear, voice low in a way that’s barely above a whisper.

You don’t answer, you can’t bring yourself to answer, because nothing that’s going through your head sounds coherent as words. Your head turns slightly when another muffled voice comes through somewhere behind the right wall, tilting enough to catch the direction without making it obvious. Jungkook follows without looking, shifting and leaning closer by just half an inch, instinctively hovering his body above yours. 

His chest rises and falls harder than his usual breathing, eyes flicking around the room, reevaluating everything you’ve terribly miscalculated. “Fuck.” He mutters under his breath.

“You’re overreacting.” Someone says, voice calm and controlled, so much that it makes your stomach twist. 

“I’m not overreacting, they went into one of the rooms.” Another voice replies, but it’s sharper this time. Dressed in a worry that doesn’t even try to rival how composed the previous man was. 

Jungkook’s hand tightens around the backrest of the couch, leaning his body weight onto his hands above you. Your breath gets caught in your throat, stomach dropping in a way that’s almost unprofessional. 

“Which room?” The calmer man asks. 

There’s a pause after that, maybe a flick over the keyboard, maybe a shift of screening, you don’t know which. But the soft clicking that’s somehow heard even from where you are is enough for you to freeze beneath the warmth of Jungkook’s body. 

“Doesn’t matter, we’re flagging everything.” 

Fuck.

Jungkook’s grip stills on you completely, his wide eyes staring wordlessly into the wall as yours are stuck on his chest. Unable to move, unable to speak. 

“Do we know who they are?”

“Not yet.” 

With that, you exhale slowly, letting out the breath that has been stuck in you ever since the first subtle shift behind the walls. You know this doesn’t give you much time, hell, it would probably be criminal to call whatever this is some time. But right now, you’ll take anything you can. Because everything feels so fucking unavoidable. 

“Run it through the system.” The second voice requests. “Faces, behavior, track everything.” 

“They won’t make it out without us knowing,” The first voice finishes. You hear the faint scraping of the chairs, footsteps that are closer and closer as time passes by, movement that’s too animatic to be real, it all hits your ear in a hue. Suddenly, the door clicks, and they’re gone just like that. 

For a second, it feels like they’re still right behind the wall, their presence burning holes through your body without even catching sight of your eyes. Like they’re still listening, still watching, waiting.

But then, somewhere between the third and fourth breath you exhale, the sound starts fading and fading until they’re finally out of your reach. 

But you don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, because it’s still not quiet enough. The constellation of Jungkook’s uneven breaths mixed with yours rip through the air until it feels unbearable to exist in the same space anymore. 

Because now, your fingers curl tighter against Jungkook’s shirt for a different reason entirely. He pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes filled with something that indicates he understood everything at exactly the same time as you. And it’s nowhere near controlled. 

“They flagged the room.” You whisper, wide eyes looking up at him in a way that causes Jungkook to curse at himself for thinking with his dick in a situation like this. 

His jaw tightens. “Yeah.” 

Your mind races, trying to recollect everything until they stick together again. “And the system-” 

He cuts you off. “It’s already running.” 

Your voice drops as you start blinking so fast it hurts. “Shit, Jungkook, what do we do? They fucking saw us.”

You hate how he doesn’t deny it, how he doesn’t even try to soften it. Because it’s there, everything already happened in a way that’s way too ugly to be repairable, way too real to be covered with a lie. 

Jungkook calls your name, slow and calculated. “They’re looking for us.” 

The way those words land is so much worse than whatever you had registered previously, leading your chest to tighten until it leaves no space for your breath to exist in your lungs. Everything you just did, everything you just heard– You’re not ahead anymore, you’re inside it, you’re caught right in the middle of everything you were told to stay away from. 

You make a mental note of torturing yourself for the way your chest flutters when Jungkook’s hand finds yours, grip firm like he’s scared to let you go, like he’s scared something might happen to you. 

“We need to move.” He says, eyes scanning around the room for anything that’s even the smallest thread. But when it comes to actually moving, neither of you really act on it. 

Because you both know the mission isn’t the only thing at risk anymore.

Jungkook stood near the front, rag in hand, absently wiping grease from his fingers as his gaze drifted— as it always did, toward that perfect little window across the narrow street. Your shop glowed like a beacon in the storm.

Soft, golden light spilled from the florist’s wide display windows, turning the falling snow into drifting sparks of amber. Through the delicate glass panes, framed by lush greenery and winter blooms, he could see you clearly. You moved with an effortless grace that made his chest tighten every single time. Tonight you were singing to yourself again. He couldn’t hear the melody over the howling wind and the low rumble of the shop’s ventilation system, save for the distance as well, but he didn’t need sound. The way your lips parted and shaped the words, the gentle sway of your body as you twirled lightly between the potted plants in the window display— it was like watching a private performance meant only for the flowers and the snow.

You held a small, pale green watering can in one hand, tilting it with careful precision as you misted the ferns and delicate winter jasmine that sat proudly in the front. Droplets caught the light like tiny diamonds before disappearing into the rich soil. Your free hand occasionally brushed a stray petal or adjusted a ribbon on a pre-made bouquet, your movements fluid and joyful. Your hair— loose and slightly tousled from the day’s work, caught the warm glow every time you spun, making you look like one of those Disney princesses from the old animated films he used to watch. Innocent. Radiant. Completely unaware that someone across the street was completely, hopelessly captivated.

Jungkook’s lips curved into a small, unconscious smile. God, he loved this part of the evening. The quiet ritual of watching you close up shop had become his favorite part of the day, even if it made his heart ache with a yearning he couldn’t quite name. You were so close, just a narrow street away— yet felt miles out of reach.

He’d imagined walking over there a hundred times: stepping into that fragrant, colorful world, introducing himself properly instead of offering awkward waves from across the road when your eyes accidentally met. But every time courage flickered, doubt snuffed it out. What would a woman like you want with a grease-stained mechanic who spent his days elbow-deep in engines?

“Earth to Jungkook.” A large hand suddenly waved in front of his face, breaking the spell so abruptly that Jungkook startled and nearly dropped the rag. He blinked, heat crawling up the back of his neck as he turned to face Namjoon.

Namjoon stood there in his thick winter coat, already zipped up to his chin, keys jingling in his pocket. His dimpled grin was wide and knowing, eyes sparkling with barely contained amusement. “You’ve got it bad, man. Like, painfully, obviously bad.” He chuckled, shaking his head as he adjusted the strap of his messenger bag. “How long are you gonna keep staring at her like a lovesick puppy? It’s been months. Just go talk to her already. Worst she can say is no.”

Jungkook felt his face flush hotter. He tossed the dirty rag onto the nearest workbench a little harder than necessary and waved his friend off with a scoff, trying to play it cool. “Shut up, hyung. It’s not like that.”

“Sure it’s not,” Namjoon laughed warmly, the sound rich and fond. He clapped Jungkook solidly on the shoulder as he headed for the side door, boots thudding against the concrete floor. “Whatever you say, lover boy. Just… the snow’s really picking up out there. Listen to that wind— it’s getting worse by the minute. Don’t stay too late, okay? Lock up soon and get home safe before the roads turn into an ice rink.”

“Yeah, yeah. I will,” Jungkook muttered, already drifting back toward the small window as the side door clicked shut behind Namjoon, leaving the shop quieter than before.

The wind howled louder now, a fierce, mournful sound that made the garage door shudder violently in its tracks. Snow lashed against the windowpane, blurring his view for a moment before the gust passed. Across the street, You were still moving between the plants in your window display, that soft, private little dance continuing as you prepared to close up for the night. The clock on his wall read just past six-forty-five — seven o’clock was creeping close. Soon You’d flip the “Open” sign to “Closed,” turn off the warm lights, and disappear into the storm.

Shaking his head at himself, Jungkook forced his gaze away and turned back toward the old sedan he’d been working on before Namjoon left. The hood was still propped open like a gaping mouth, exposing the engine’s tangled veins of hoses, wires, and metal. He grabbed a fresh rag and his wrench, the cool, heavy tool familiar and grounding in his palm. Leaning back under the hood, he lost himself for a while in the mechanical rhythm— tightening a stubborn bolt here, checking a loose hose clamp there. The sharp, acrid scent of motor oil and coolant mixed with the faint metallic tang of the shop surrounded him, a comforting contrast to the soft, imagined floral sweetness that always lingered in his mind whenever he thought of you.

The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting harsh shadows across the concrete floor littered with tools and spare parts. Outside, the blizzard grew steadily more vicious. The wind screamed through the narrow street like a living thing, rattling the windows and making the entire building groan under its assault. Snow piled higher against the curb, turning parked cars into soft white mounds. Jungkook tried to focus, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the golden glow across the way— to the way you twirled between your plants like the storm didn’t exist for you.

He was deep in concentration, fingers working carefully around a delicate sensor, when a new sound sliced through the muffled roar of the storm.

A car engine struggling to turn over.

Click… click… click.

The rapid, helpless clicking echoed faintly from across the street— the unmistakable sound of a dead battery or a failing starter fighting against the freezing cold. It came again, more desperate this time. Then, soft curses drifted on the wind. Or rather… the gentlest almost-curses he’d ever heard. “Fudge… oh, come on, not tonight. Please, just…ugh!"

Jungkook froze mid-motion, wrench still gripped tightly in his grease-stained hand. That voice. He’d only caught snippets of it before— soft and melodic when you greeted customers on the sidewalk, warm with gentle laughter when you chatted with regulars outside your shop, the occasional polite “excuse me” when your paths briefly crossed. It was always sweet, wrapped in a quiet confidence that made something warm and fluttery bloom in his chest. Even now, frustrated and battling the bitter cold, you couldn’t bring yourself to swear properly. You said “fudge” like it was the most severe word you could manage, your tone still so endearingly soft and sure.

A slow, involuntary smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. God, you were adorable. The kind of adorable that made his heart stutter and his stomach twist with yearning. He’d imagined hearing that voice directed at him so many times— saying his name, laughing at something silly he said, the soft sounds of your moans as he moved inside you.

He straightened up quickly, nearly banging his head on the raised hood in his haste. Heart suddenly racing, he peered out through the small rectangular window again, wiping away the condensation with the sleeve of his shirt.

There you were. You had made it to your little silver car parked right in front of your florist shop. The driver’s side door hung open, snow already dusting the dark fabric of the seat in delicate white flakes. You sat half-inside the vehicle, one booted foot still planted firmly on the snowy pavement as if ready to flee back into the shop at any moment. Your thick winter coat was pulled tightly around your small frame, the hood tugged up over your head, but a few loose strands of hair whipped wildly in the ferocious wind. You turned the key in the ignition once more — click… click… click— and let out another soft, defeated sound, your shoulders slumping visibly against the seat.

The storm was intensifying by the second. Visibility had dropped dramatically; the streetlights struggled to cut through the dense, swirling white curtain. Snow lashed sideways, stinging and relentless. Your car clearly wasn’t starting, and you were out there alone in the freezing dark, the temperature plummeting as night settled in.

This was it.

This was his sign— the universe finally giving him the push he’d been too cowardly to take on his own. Jungkook didn’t let himself overthink it this time. His pulse hammered hard against his ribs, a wild rhythm that drowned out the howling wind for a moment. He tossed the wrench onto the cluttered workbench with a loud metallic clatter, not caring where it landed. In one fluid motion, he snatched his heavy black coat from the hook by the side door and shrugged it on hastily, zipping it all the way up to his chin. He yanked a dark beanie over his messy, slightly sweat-dampened hair and shoved his gloves into his pockets, fingers already tingling with anticipation and nerves.

The side door of the shop groaned loudly as he pushed it open with his shoulder. The full, brutal force of the blizzard hit him instantly— like stepping into a frozen whirlwind. Icy wind sliced at his exposed cheeks and neck, snowflakes stinging his eyes and clinging to his lashes. The cold burned his lungs with the first deep breath, sharp and unforgiving. Snow had already accumulated several inches on the ground, crunching under his boots as he stepped fully outside.

He didn’t hesitate.

Jungkook pulled the door shut behind him with a firm click, the sound almost swallowed by the roaring storm, and began making his way across the narrow street toward you. Each step felt heavier than the last, not from the deepening snow but from the wild thud of his heart. The wind howled around him, whipping his coat and threatening to steal the air from his chest, but Jungkook pushed forward, eyes fixed on the small, bundled figure beside the silver car. Up close, You looked even smaller against the storm— delicate and out of place in the raging white chaos, like one of your own fragile winter blooms suddenly exposed to the elements.

Your hood framed Your face, cheeks already flushed a soft pink from the cold, and those strands of hair danced wildly around Your features. You looked... vulnerable. Beautiful. And something deep in his gut twisted with the sudden, vivid thought of how you might look flushed for entirely different reasons— lips parted, eyes half-lidded, that soft voice breaking into breathy little sounds as he...

He shoved the image away before it could fully form, cheeks burning hotter than the wind could cool. Not now, you idiot. Focus.

You turned the key again just as he reached you, another helpless click... click... click — and let out a quiet, frustrated sigh that the wind nearly carried away. When You glanced up and saw him standing there, your eyes widened in surprise, lashes dusted with snowflakes.

“Hey,” Jungkook said, raising his voice just enough to cut through the storm without shouting. He offered what he hoped was a warm, reassuring smile, snow already piling on his shoulders and beanie. “Need some help? Your car’s not turning over, sounds like the battery or the starter’s giving you trouble in this cold.”

You blinked at him, gloved hands still gripping the steering wheel. For a moment you seemed flustered, shifting in your seat as another gust of wind rocked the car. “Oh... um, I’m so sorry,” You said, your voice soft and sweet even through the embarrassment, exactly like he remembered. It wrapped around him warmer than any heater. “I know it’s freezing out here, and you really don’t have to help. I can try calling someone or... or wait it out. I don’t want to bother you.”

Jungkook shook his head immediately, stepping a little closer so the wind didn’t swallow his words. Snow crunched under his boots as he gestured gently toward you. “It’s no bother at all. Really. I’m Jungkook, I own the mechanic shop right across the street.” He pointed behind him through the swirling white, where the faint outline of his garage door was just visible. “Pushing your car over there would be easy, and I can take a look at it inside where it’s warm. You can hang out with me while I work on it, wait out the storm. No sense sitting out here freezing when the roads are only getting worse.”

He watched you process his offer, the way You knawed gently on your bottom lip in thought. That small, unconscious habit made his chest tighten. Your teeth pressed into the soft pink flesh, leaving a faint indent, and for a fleeting second his mind wandered again, wondering how that lip would feel under his thumb, or between his teeth, how You might sound if he kissed you slow and deep until You forgot all about the cold. Soft. You’d probably sound so soft... maybe a little whimper, all sweet and surprised...

He cleared his throat, forcing his thoughts back to the present as You finally nodded, a shy smile breaking through your hesitation. “Okay... if you’re sure it’s not too much trouble,” You said quietly, still sounding a little uncertain but grateful. “Thank you. Really.”

Relief and excitement surged through him, warm despite the freezing air. “Great. Just put it in neutral and I’ll be right back to open the garage.”

Jungkook jogged back across the street, boots sinking deeper into the fresh powder with every stride. The wind fought him the whole way, but he barely felt it now, adrenaline and something brighter buzzing under his skin. He reached the side door of his shop, fumbled with the keys for only a second before unlocking it and slipping inside. The relative warmth hit him like a blessing, but he didn’t linger. Moving quickly to the control panel, he hit the button for the main garage door. It rumbled to life with a low, mechanical groan, slowly rolling upward and letting in a rush of icy air and swirling snow as it revealed the brightly lit interior of the shop.

He stepped back outside immediately, waving toward your car through the storm. “Alright, it’s open! Let’s get you inside!”

Together they worked to push the car. Jungkook positioned himself at the rear, hands braced firmly on the trunk, muscles flexing under his coat as he leaned into it. “You don’t have to help,” he called out to you over the wind. “I’ve got it, the snow’s slippery, just get in and steer if you want!”

But you insisted, shaking your head as You moved to the side of the car, gloved hands pressing against the driver’s door frame. “No, I want to help. It’s my car, the least I can do.” Your voice carried that same gentle determination, and he couldn’t help the small grin that tugged at his lips.

The car was heavy, resistant against the accumulating snow and ice, but with both of them pushing it slowly began to roll forward. Jungkook’s boots dug in for traction, his breath coming in visible puffs as he put real effort into it. You pushed alongside him, smaller frame leaning in with surprising determination, your soft grunts of effort mixing with the howl of the wind. Every time their eyes met briefly through the flurry, You offered a shy little smile that made his pulse stutter. The narrow street felt endless in the storm, snow stinging their faces, wind tugging at their coats, but inch by inch they moved your silver car across the road and up the slight incline into the open garage bay. The moment the tires crossed the threshold, the raging blizzard dulled to a muffled roar outside the rising door.

Warm air from the shop’s industrial heaters rushed forward to greet you both, chasing away the sharp, biting cold that had clung to your coats, your hair, and your cheeks. Snow that had dusted your shoulders and boots began to melt almost immediately, forming tiny glistening puddles on the concrete floor beneath you.

Jungkook brushed fresh flakes from his beanie and shook out his heavy black coat, small droplets scattering. He tried to steady the sudden, wild rhythm of his heart. You were here. Actually here, inside his shop, alone with him, the rest of the world locked out by the raging snow.

“You can sit anywhere you want,” he said, his voice warm and steady despite the nervous flutter in his chest. He gestured around the spacious garage with a gloved hand. “Make yourself comfortable. There’s a folding chair right over there by the workbench if you’d like, or the stool by the tool chest. Whatever feels good.”

You nodded shyly, offering him a small, grateful smile that made something bright and warm bloom low in his stomach. “Thank you… again. I really appreciate this,” you murmured, your voice soft and sweet, still carrying that gentle lilt he had admired from across the street for so long.

He watched as you moved toward the old metal folding chair beside the sedan he’d been working on earlier. You brushed a few stray snowflakes from your coat before lowering yourself onto the seat, your posture a little stiff at first, hands resting neatly in your lap as if you were trying not to take up too much space. The overhead fluorescent lights cast a soft, diffused glow over you, highlighting the pretty flush still lingering on your cheeks from the harsh cold outside. Your hair was slightly tousled from the wind, a few damp strands clinging to your forehead and temples. You looked so beautifully out of place in the middle of his gritty, oil-scented world— delicate and bright like one of your own winter flowers suddenly transplanted into a mechanic’s garage. And yet… you fit. Somehow. Perfectly.

Jungkook forced himself to turn away before he could stare too long. He moved to your silver car and popped the hood with a practiced, smooth motion. The metal creaked as it lifted, revealing the engine bay. Leaning in, he examined the components with focused eyes, his fingers moving with familiar ease over cold metal and plastic. The sharp, familiar scent of motor oil, coolant, and rubber filled his nose again, grounding him in the familiar rhythm of work. But underneath it all, something much sweeter drifted toward him— your perfume. Soft, floral, with delicate hints of vanilla, fresh blooms, and something warm and feminine that made his pulse stutter and his thoughts scatter for a dangerous moment.

God… you smell like springtime wrapped in sugar. Like you could bloom right here in the middle of all this grease and metal.

He tried his hardest to stay focused on the battery terminals, checking the connections and corrosion, but his mind wandered anyway. Just for a second. He pictured you right here, bent forward over this same hood, your coat long discarded, back arched beautifully as he pressed up close behind you. The way your soft voice might break into breathy little gasps and moans, sweet, surprised at first, then growing needier as he thrust deep and slow inside you. Your hands gripping the edge of the hood, knuckles turning white, while he whispered filthy praises against the nape of your neck, one hand tangled in your hair, the other gripping your hip. How you might sound when you finally let go— those delicate “fudge” habits replaced by desperate whimpers of his name, your body trembling under him as he—

Jungkook snapped out of the vivid fantasy hard, blinking rapidly as a rush of heat crawled up the back of his neck and settled low in his belly. He cleared his throat roughly and forced his attention back to the engine. Get it together, Jeon. She — you — are sitting right there. Focus.

After a thorough inspection, the diagnosis was simple and clear. He straightened up, wiping his hands on a relatively clean rag, and turned toward you. “It’s just the battery,” he announced gently. “The extreme cold drained it pretty badly tonight. It happens a lot this time of year with older batteries. I can jump it easily with my truck once we’re ready, but…” He paused, glancing toward the closed garage door where the wind continued to scream and rattle the metal. “The roads are way too icy right now. Even if we get the car started, I wouldn’t trust driving anywhere in this mess. Visibility is terrible, and the plows probably won’t come through for hours. We’re probably stuck here for a few hours at least— maybe more, until the storm eases up.”

He leaned one hip casually against the front of your car, trying to look relaxed even as his heart hammered.

You were sitting there looking adorably nervous, hands wringing together in your lap in that sweet, unconscious way. Your fingers twisted and fidgeted, betraying your anxiety even as you tried to keep your expression calm. Your bottom lip was caught gently between your teeth again, eyes wide and uncertain as you processed his words. The sight made his chest tighten with something fiercely protective and warm all at once.

“I’m really sorry about this,” you said softly, huffing out a small, resigned breath that made your shoulders rise and fall. “I should’ve left the shop earlier… or checked the battery before the storm got so bad. But… yeah, I think waiting is the best option. I don’t want either of us sliding off the road or getting stuck somewhere worse.”

Jungkook nodded immediately, offering you a gentle, reassuring smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Hey, no apologies needed at all. I’m genuinely glad I was still here to help. Honestly, it’s no trouble. This is what I do.” He gestured vaguely around the warmly lit shop with one hand. “We’ve got plenty of heat, lights, tools— whatever we need. I can even make some coffee or hot chocolate if you’d like. There’s a mini-fridge and hot plate over there. Beats sitting alone in a freezing car waiting for a tow truck that might not even show up tonight.”

You relaxed a little at his words, your shoulders easing as you gave him another shy, tentative smile. The way your eyes softened when they met his made his stomach flip pleasantly. “Hot chocolate sounds really nice, actually… if it’s not too much trouble,” you admitted quietly.

“It’s not trouble at all,” he replied quickly, maybe a touch too eagerly. He pushed off your car and moved toward the small break area in the corner of the shop, where the mini-fridge hummed softly and a hot plate waited on a cluttered counter. As he filled the kettle with water and searched for the packets of hot chocolate mix, he couldn’t help stealing glances back at you over his shoulder.

You were still sitting there on the folding chair, hands now resting more calmly in your lap, but that faint nervous energy lingered in the gentle way you watched him move around his space. The shop felt smaller now, cozier, the storm outside creating a strange, intimate bubble just for the two of you. Warm golden light, the low hum of heaters, the faint sweet scent of your perfume mixing with the earthy notes of oil and metal… and hours stretching ahead of you both.

Jungkook’s mind wandered again— unbidden, dangerous, and far too tempting. He wondered how long it would take for that adorable shyness to melt away in the warmth. How your voice might change when it wasn’t so polite and careful anymore. How you’d look with your hair messy from his hands, cheeks flushed deep pink for reasons that had nothing to do with the cold outside, and those soft, pretty lips parting around quiet, needy sounds of his name.

He swallowed hard, stirring the hot chocolate a little more vigorously than necessary, trying to ignore the growing heat low in his belly and the way his jeans suddenly felt tighter. “Here you go,” he said gently, walking back toward you with both steaming mugs. He handed you the white one, careful not to spill any as he lowered himself onto the low rolling stool a respectful distance away from your chair. “Careful, it’s hot. I added a little extra cocoa, figured we could use something sweet after dealing with that storm.”

You accepted the mug with both hands, wrapping your fingers around the warm ceramic like it was a lifeline. A tiny, grateful smile curved your lips as you inhaled the chocolatey aroma. “Thank you… this smells amazing.” You took a careful sip, eyes fluttering closed for a brief second in pure contentment. The soft little hum of satisfaction that escaped you made Jungkook’s chest tighten.

For a few minutes, the only sounds were the muffled howl of the wind outside, the steady hum of the heaters, and the quiet occasional clink of your mugs. You both sat in a comfortable but slightly charged silence at first, the storm creating an intimate little world just for the two of you. The shop lights cast a warm, golden hue over everything, softening the usual harshness of tools and metal. Snow continued to pile against the small window in the garage door, but in here it felt almost… peaceful.

“So… how long have you owned the flower shop?” Jungkook asked eventually, his voice low and curious. He leaned forward slightly on the stool, elbows resting on his knees, genuinely wanting to know everything about you.

You glanced up at him, cheeks still carrying that pretty flush from the cold and now the warm drink. “Almost two years now. It was my dream for so long— having a little place where people could come in and feel something beautiful and fresh even in the middle of winter.” Your fingers traced the rim of the mug absently. “I love watching people light up when they find the perfect bouquet or when a plant they thought was dying starts thriving again. It’s… healing, I guess.”

Jungkook nodded, his dark eyes never leaving your face. “I can see that. From across the street, I’ve watched you dancing around with the plants, singing to them sometimes.” He admitted it with a soft, sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry if that sounds creepy. It’s just… you always look so happy in there. Like the whole world outside doesn’t touch you when you’re surrounded by flowers.”

Your eyes widened a little in surprise, then softened with shy amusement. You bit your bottom lip gently— that adorable habit again, before replying, “You noticed that? I didn’t think anyone could see me through the window when I get like that. I guess I forget people are watching sometimes. It’s embarrassing… but also kind of nice to know someone was paying attention.”

The air between you felt warmer, thicker. Jungkook’s gaze dropped briefly to your mouth as you spoke, then flicked back up to your eyes. “It’s not embarrassing. It’s… really beautiful. You make the whole street brighter.”

You looked down into your mug, a delicate blush deepening on your cheeks. “That’s sweet of you to say. I’ve noticed you too, you know. You’re always working so hard over here— covered in grease but still smiling when customers leave happy. And you have this focused look when you’re under a hood… it’s kind of captivating.”

Jungkook’s heart stuttered at your words. He hadn’t expected you to admit that. The compliment landed softly, making heat bloom in his chest and lower. He shifted on the stool, suddenly very aware of how close you were sitting now, only a couple of feet apart in the quiet shop.

The conversation flowed more easily after that. You told him about your favorite flowers (peonies in spring, paperwhites in winter), the funny regulars who came in every week, and how you sometimes stayed late just to rearrange displays because it calmed you. He shared stories about ridiculous car repairs — the time someone brought in a car with a family of squirrels living in the engine, or the customer who insisted their “check engine” light was just the car being dramatic. You laughed at his animated retelling, the sound light and melodic, filling the shop and making Jungkook’s stomach flip every time.

As the minutes stretched into an hour, the storm outside seemed to grow even fiercer, wind rattling the garage door like it wanted in. But inside, the space between you had slowly shrunk. At some point, Jungkook had moved his stool closer without realizing it, drawn in by the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about your shop and the way you leaned forward when listening to him. Your knees were almost brushing now. The sweet scent of your perfume mixed with chocolate and the faint trace of his cologne created an intoxicating little bubble.

You shivered lightly despite the heat, setting your empty mug aside. “It’s still so cold out there… I can’t believe how fast the storm got this bad.”

Without thinking, Jungkook shrugged off his thick flannel overshirt— the one he wore over his plain black t-shirt and offered it to you. “Here. It’s warmer than it looks. The heaters are good, but sometimes the draft still sneaks in.”

You hesitated for only a second before accepting it, draping the oversized flannel over your shoulders. It swallowed your frame, the sleeves hanging past your hands, but the sight of you in his clothes did dangerous things to his pulse. You looked soft. Small. Like you belonged right here with him.

“Thank you,” you whispered, pulling the fabric closer around you. Your eyes met his, holding longer this time. The shy nervousness from earlier had faded into something warmer, more open. “You’re really kind, Jungkook. I was so scared when my car wouldn’t start, but… I’m glad it was you who came out.”

His breath caught. The way you said his name— soft, sincere, sent a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold. He set his own mug down and leaned in just a fraction closer, voice dropping lower. “I’m glad it was me too. I’ve wanted to talk to you properly for months. Watching you from across the street… it was nice, but this is better. A lot better.”

The air grew heavy with unspoken tension. Your gaze flicked down to his lips for the briefest moment before returning to his eyes. Jungkook’s heart pounded hard against his ribs. He could see the faint rise and fall of your chest, the way your fingers tightened slightly in the fabric of his flannel. Everything felt slower, more intimate, the storm outside a distant roar compared to the quiet electricity building between you.

“You know…” he continued softly, his hand moving almost on its own to gently brush a stray strand of hair away from your cheek. His knuckles grazed your skin, warm and slightly rough from work. “I’ve thought about what it would be like to finally be this close to you. To hear your voice without a street between us.”

Your breath hitched softly at the touch, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned into it just a little, eyes half-lidded and trusting. “I… I’ve thought about it too,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “More than I probably should have.”

That was all the encouragement he needed.

Jungkook searched your eyes one last time, giving you every chance to stop him. When you didn’t, he closed the small remaining distance between you, tilting his head slightly as his lips met yours in a slow, gentle kiss.

It started soft— tentative and sweet, like testing warm water. Your lips were even softer than he had imagined, tasting faintly of chocolate and something uniquely you. A quiet sigh escaped you as you kissed him back, one hand coming up to rest lightly against his chest. The flannel slipped slightly off one shoulder, but neither of you cared. Jungkook’s hand cupped your cheek tenderly, thumb brushing your skin as he deepened the kiss just enough to pour months of quiet yearning into it, slow, reverent, and full of the warmth that had been building all evening.

Your breath mingled with his, both of you still close enough that the slightest movement would bring your mouths together again. You didn’t pull away. Instead, your fingers curled lightly into the front of his black t-shirt, holding on as if you were afraid the moment might slip away.

You pulled away only for a second, Jungkook’s dark eyes searched yours for only a heartbeat before he leaned in again, capturing your lips in a deeper kiss. This one wasn’t quite as tentative. It was slower, more intentional— his mouth moving against yours with a quiet hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface for months. One of his hands slid to the nape of your neck, fingers threading gently into your hair, while the other rested at your waist, pulling you just a little closer on the chair.

You sighed softly into the kiss, a delicate sound that made something tighten low in Jungkook’s stomach. He loved it immediately, that sweet, breathy little noise that escaped you when his lips pressed more firmly. It was needy in the softest way, exactly like he had imagined during all those stolen glances across the street. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, tongue gently tracing the seam of your lips until you parted for him with another quiet, almost surprised hum.

The shop around you seemed to fade even further. The distant roar of the storm became background noise compared to the soft, wet sounds of your mouths moving together and the quickening rhythm of your breathing. Jungkook groaned low in his throat when your tongue shyly met his, the taste of chocolate and warmth flooding his senses. He kissed you harder, more insistently, savoring every little gasp and whimper that slipped from you as the intensity built.

Your hands wandered. One stayed fisted in his t-shirt while the other slowly slid up to his chest, fingers brushing over the thin silver chain that rested against his collarbones. The cool metal contrasted with the heat of his skin. When you wrapped your fingers around the chain and gave a tiny, experimental tug, Jungkook’s breath hitched sharply.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, lips shiny and slightly swollen, eyes dark with want. Your cheeks were flushed a deep pink, lashes fluttering as you tried to catch your breath. The oversized flannel had slipped further off one shoulder, revealing the soft curve of your neck and the edge of your sweater underneath. You looked beautiful, shy, but clearly affected, lips parted and breathing uneven. “You like that?” he murmured, voice rougher than before. His thumb brushed tenderly over your bottom lip. “Grabbing my chain… pulling me closer?”

You bit your lip, that adorable nervous habit making his heart stutter even as heat pooled hotter in his veins. Your fingers tightened around the silver links again, but you didn’t pull yet. Instead, you nodded shyly, eyes dropping for a second before lifting back to his. The combination of innocence and quiet desire in your gaze was devastatingly hot. Jungkook’s lips curved into a small, heated smile. “Go ahead, baby,” he whispered, leaning in so his forehead rested against yours once more. His voice dropped even lower, intimate and encouraging. “Yank on it. As hard as you want. I like it when you get a little needy.”

The shy nod you gave him, small, almost hesitant, but paired with the way your eyes sparkled with newfound boldness— was both incredibly adorable and undeniably arousing. The moment your fingers tightened properly around the chain and gave a firmer tug, pulling his mouth back down to yours, Jungkook let out a low, appreciative groan.

The kiss ignited.

He surged forward, mouth claiming yours with more heat this time. The gentle exploration from before melted into something hungrier, more desperate. His tongue slid against yours in slow, thorough strokes, tasting you deeply as he tilted his head to kiss you at a better angle. You whimpered softly— a needy little sound that went straight to his cock, and he swallowed it eagerly, drinking in every soft moan and breathy sigh you offered.

Your grip on his chain never loosened. Every time the kiss grew more intense, you tugged him closer, the cool metal pressing into the back of his neck as you pulled him in like you couldn’t get enough. Jungkook loved the way it felt, the slight sting when you yanked harder, the silent demand in the gesture that contrasted so perfectly with your shy, sweet nature. It made him kiss you harder, one hand sliding down to grip your hip, fingers digging in just enough to anchor you as he leaned over you on the chair.

The makeout session turned heated fast. Wet, open-mouthed kisses replaced the softer ones. Your soft sounds grew needier— little whimpers and quiet moans that spilled from you whenever his teeth grazed your bottom lip or his tongue explored deeper. Jungkook was addicted to them already. Every time you made that delicate, desperate noise, he responded with a low growl of his own, pressing closer until your knees parted slightly and he could settle between them.

He broke the kiss only long enough to trail his lips along your jaw, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck. When he gently sucked at the sensitive spot just below your ear, you let out a particularly sweet, breathy moan that made his hips twitch involuntarily. “Fuck… you sound so pretty,” he murmured against your skin, voice thick with arousal. “Those little sounds… keep making them for me, baby. I could listen to you all night.”

Your fingers yanked on the chain again, harder this time, guiding his mouth back to yours in a messy, heated kiss. Tongues tangled, breaths mingled, and the quiet shop filled with the sounds of your growing desperation— soft whimpers, the wet slide of lips, and the occasional needy whine that escaped you when Jungkook’s hand squeezed your waist or his teeth nipped gently at your lower lip.

Jungkook groaned low into your mouth every time you whimpered, the sound vibrating against your tongue and sending sparks straight down your spine. He was quickly becoming addicted to those soft, needy noises you made. Each little whine and breathy moan spilled from you like music, so sweet and desperate that it made his cock strain harder against the front of his jeans.

His large hand, which had been gripping your hip possessively, began to wander with deliberate slowness. He gave you every opportunity to stop him, trailing his palm down the curve of your thigh before sliding it inward. When his fingers finally pressed over the seam of your pants, rubbing firmly against your clothed pussy, a sharp gasp escaped you. Your hips twitched forward involuntarily, seeking more of that delicious pressure even through the layers of fabric.

Jungkook pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, both of you breathing hard in the warm, oil-scented air of the shop. His dark eyes were blown wide with lust, locked intensely on yours as his fingers continued those slow, teasing circles over your core. Even muted by your pants and underwear, the heat and dampness radiating from you made his breath hitch.

“Is this okay, baby?” he murmured, voice rough and low, barely above a whisper. His thumb pressed a little firmer against your clit through the fabric, drawing another soft whimper from your lips. “Tell me if you want me to stop. I’ll stop anytime.”

The warmth of the shop’s heaters wrapped around you both, but it was nothing compared to the fire building low in your belly from his touch. You were already aching, wetness soaking into your panties as his fingers worked you so perfectly. Shy as you still felt, the need was stronger. You shook your head quickly, voice coming out breathy and trembling with want. “Don’t stop… please, Jungkook.”

That desperate little “please” made something primal flare in his chest. Jungkook’s lips crashed back onto yours in a deeper, more claiming kiss, tongue sliding against yours as his fingers rubbed harder, pressing the seam of your pants right against your swollen clit. The wet heat between your legs grew with every stroke, and your soft whines turned higher, needier, spilling uncontrollably into his mouth. He swallowed every sound greedily, loving how your body responded so honestly— hips rolling against his hand, fingers tightening around his chain until the links pressed into the back of his neck.

After several long, heated minutes of kissing and teasing touches, Jungkook broke away again, lips trailing hot and open-mouthed along your jaw and down the sensitive column of your neck. His breath ghosted over your skin as he spoke, voice thick with restraint and raw desire. “Can I take your pants off?” he asked, fingers still rubbing those maddening circles that made your thighs tremble. “I want to touch you properly… feel how wet and warm you are for me. Is that okay, baby?”

Your heart raced, cheeks burning with a mix of shyness and overwhelming arousal. You wanted him— wanted this, so badly that the words slipped out easily, shaky but certain. “Yes… I want you. So bad.”

Jungkook let out a low, appreciative groan that vibrated against your neck. “Fuck, you’re so sweet,” he whispered, pressing one last kiss to your pulse point before pulling back. He helped you slide off the folding chair on slightly shaky legs, his hands gentle yet sure as they moved to the waistband of your pants. With careful reverence, he hooked his fingers into both your pants and panties, sliding them slowly down your thighs together. The cool air of the garage kissed your newly exposed skin, raising goosebumps along your legs as he knelt briefly to pull the fabric completely off, along with your boots and socks. He set the bundle neatly aside on a nearby cluttered workbench, his eyes never leaving your body.

When he rose to his feet again, his gaze was dark and hungry, drinking in the sight of your bare lower half. The oversized flannel you still wore— his flannel, hung loosely off one shoulder, the hem brushing teasingly against the tops of your thighs. You looked breathtaking like this: flushed, shy, and exposed in the middle of his mechanic shop, surrounded by tools and the faint scent of oil and metal. It was such a filthy contrast to your soft, floral sweetness, and it made his cock twitch painfully.

Instead of returning you to the chair, Jungkook guided you backward until the backs of your thighs met the wide, sturdy workbench behind you. It was the perfect height, high enough that when he stepped between your parted legs, your bodies aligned beautifully, his hips brushing against your inner thighs. The flannel slipped further down your shoulder, revealing more soft skin, but you made no move to fix it.

He leaned in close, capturing your lips in another deep, heated kiss before pulling back just enough to ask again, his voice husky and careful. “Can I touch you now, baby? Really touch you… with my fingers?”

“Yes,” you breathed out immediately, the word coming out whiny and desperate, your hips shifting restlessly on the edge of the workbench. Your fingers tugged on his chain again, pulling him closer as need pulsed through you. “Please, Jungkook… I need it. Touch me.”

The needy whine in your voice nearly broke his control. Jungkook’s eyes darkened further, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he slid one large, warm hand between your thighs. His fingers glided through your slick folds, parting them gently and coating themselves in your arousal. “So fucking wet already,” he murmured appreciatively, voice hoarse with awe. “All this pretty slick just for me? You’re dripping, baby.”

He started slow and teasing, circling your swollen clit with two fingers in gentle, deliberate strokes— light pressure at first that gradually grew firmer as your reactions encouraged him. Every slow circle drew another needy sound from deep in your throat: high, whiny little moans and breathy whimpers that filled the warm garage and made Jungkook’s breathing grow ragged. He watched your face the entire time, mesmerized by the way your eyes fluttered half-closed, how your mouth fell open in pleasure, how your head tipped back slightly when he hit that perfect spot.

“That’s it… make those pretty sounds for me,” he praised softly, lips brushing the shell of your ear as his fingers continued their torturous circles. “You sound so fucking needy, baby. I love it. Love hearing how much you want my touch. Keep whining for me like that.”

When your hips began rolling more insistently against his hand, chasing the pleasure, Jungkook shifted lower. He pressed one thick finger slowly inside your tight heat, moving carefully and gently pumping in and out to open you up. The wet, slick sounds of his finger gliding through your arousal mixed with your increasingly desperate whines, creating an intoxicating rhythm that echoed softly in the shop. He curled his finger just enough to brush that sensitive spot inside you, drawing a particularly sweet, high-pitched whimper from your lips.

“Relax for me, sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing along your neck and collarbone as he carefully added a second finger. He stretched you slowly, deliciously, scissoring gently while his thumb kept up those firm circles on your clit. The pace remained soft and deliberate, thorough prep rather than anything rushed— but the way you clenched around his fingers and let out those needy, whiny moans told him you were falling apart so beautifully.

Every whimper, every desperate roll of your hips, every soft “please” that slipped from your lips made Jungkook’s own arousal spike higher. His cock was rock hard, pressing insistently against his jeans as he worked you open with patient, skilled fingers. He kissed you deeply again, swallowing your moans while his fingers continued their slow, thorough exploration, curling, pumping, and rubbing until your thighs trembled around his waist and your whines grew louder, more urgent.

The storm outside continued to howl and rattle the garage door, snow piling higher against the windows, but inside this warm, intimate bubble, the only thing that mattered was the way you sounded for him— needy, whiny, and utterly perfect.

Jungkook had no intention of rushing.

He wanted to hear every single desperate sound you could make before the night was over.

Jungkook’s fingers continued their slow, thorough work between your thighs, two thick digits pumping gently inside your slick heat while his thumb circled your swollen clit with firm, precise strokes. The wet, obscene sounds of his fingers moving through your arousal filled the warm garage, mixing with the distant howl of the storm outside. Your soft whines had already grown into breathier, needier moans, but he could tell you were ready for more. He watched your face closely, dark eyes drinking in every flutter of your lashes and every parting of your lips.

Testing the waters, he curled his fingers harder, thrusting them a little deeper and faster, the heel of his palm pressing firmly against your clit with each stroke. The change in pace was deliberate, rougher than before, but still careful, watching for your reaction. Your response was immediate and beautiful.

A loud, broken moan tore from your throat as your head fell back, eyes squeezing shut in overwhelming pleasure. Your fingers shot down to grab onto his forearm, nails digging into the hard muscle there as your hips bucked against his hand. “Ah— Jungkook!” The moan came out loud and desperate, echoing softly in the shop. You clenched tightly around his fingers, thighs trembling around his waist as waves of heat crashed through you.

Jungkook’s breath hitched sharply, a low, hungry groan rumbling in his chest. Fuck. He loved every second of it— the way your pretty face contorted in pleasure, the way your voice cracked on his name, the way your body gripped him so greedily. Watching you fall apart on his fingers was quickly becoming his new favorite sight. Your grip on his arm only spurred him on, your nails leaving little crescent marks on his skin that he would wear proudly.

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped, voice thick with arousal as he kept up the rougher pace, fingers thrusting deeper, curling harder against that sensitive spot inside you. “You like it a little rougher? Look at you… falling apart so pretty for me. Moan louder, sweetheart. Let me hear how good it feels.”

You did exactly that. Another loud, needy moan spilled from your lips, your back arching as you held onto his arm like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. Your hips rolled desperately against his hand, chasing every thrust, every press of his palm. The flannel hung loosely off your shoulders, barely covering anything anymore, your skin flushed and glowing under the warm shop lights. Jungkook couldn’t look away— you were a vision: needy, whiny, and completely lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

But the more he watched you, the more desperate he became. His cock was painfully hard, straining against his jeans, but it wasn’t enough. He needed more. He needed to taste you.

After a few more rough, deep thrusts of his fingers that drew another loud sob-like moan from you, Jungkook slowed just enough to speak, his voice raw and almost begging. “Baby… fuck, I need a taste. I’ve been dying to know how sweet this pretty pussy is.” His fingers kept moving slowly inside you as he leaned in closer, lips brushing your ear. “Please… can I eat you out? Let me put my mouth on you. I’ll make you feel so good — I promise.”

You were trembling, chest heaving, but the desperate plea in his voice made fresh heat flood between your legs. You nodded frantically, voice coming out in a broken, needy whisper. “Yes… yes, please. I want your mouth.”

The relief and hunger that flashed across Jungkook’s face were instantaneous. He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, bringing them to his lips for a quick, filthy taste that made his eyes flutter shut with a deep groan. “So fucking sweet already,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Without wasting another second, Jungkook dropped gracefully to his knees in front of the workbench. The concrete floor was hard and cold against his knees, but he didn’t care— nothing mattered except the sight of you spread open for him. He hooked his strong hands under your thighs, spreading you wider and pulling you closer to the edge of the workbench until your pussy was right at the perfect height for his mouth. The flannel had slipped almost completely off one shoulder now, bunching around your elbows, leaving most of your upper body beautifully exposed.

Jungkook looked up at you one last time, eyes dark and blown with lust, lips slightly parted. “Keep making those sounds for me, baby. I want to hear every single one.”

Then he leaned in and connected his mouth to your core.

The first broad, slow lick from the bottom of your slit all the way up to your clit drew a loud, sob-like cry of pleasure from your throat. Your back arched sharply off the workbench, one hand flying down to tangle desperately in his soft, dark hair while the other gripped the edge of the table. “Oh my god— Jungkook!” The moan came out broken and overwhelmed, tears of pleasure pricking at the corners of your eyes from the intensity.

Jungkook groaned deeply against your pussy, the vibration sending shocks of pleasure through you. He didn’t hold back. His tongue worked you with hungry, expert strokes, licking broad and flat over your folds, then flicking rapidly against your swollen clit before sucking it gently between his lips. He alternated between long, thorough licks that collected every drop of your slick and focused suction that made your thighs shake violently around his head.

“Fuck… you taste even better than I imagined,” he mumbled against your core, voice muffled and reverent. He lapped at you like a man starved, tongue dipping inside your entrance before circling your clit again with relentless precision. Every sob, every loud moan, every desperate whimper that spilled from your lips only made him more eager. He gripped your thighs tighter, holding you open as he devoured you, the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth working your pussy filling the garage alongside your cries.

You were falling apart completely now. Loud, needy sobs of pleasure echoed around you with every pass of his tongue. Your hips bucked against his face, fingers tightening in his hair as you pulled him closer, grinding against his mouth in search of more friction. Jungkook loved it— loved the way you lost control, the way your usually soft, shy voice turned into these broken, desperate sounds just for him. He hummed and groaned against your core, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation that made your toes curl.

He sucked your clit into his mouth again, flicking his tongue rapidly while two fingers slid back inside you, thrusting in time with his mouth. The dual sensation— his hot, wet tongue and his thick fingers stretching you— pushed you higher and higher. Your moans turned into loud, continuous whines and sobs, your entire body trembling as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak.

Jungkook pulled back just enough to look up at you, lips shiny and swollen, chin glistening with your arousal. His voice was rough, desperate, and full of awe. “That’s my girl… let go for me, baby. Come on my tongue. I want to feel you fall apart.”

Then he dove back in, mouth working you even more intensely, fingers curling perfectly inside you as he pushed you relentlessly toward the edge. Jungkook’s tongue worked you relentlessly, broad strokes and rapid flicks alternating with deep, sucking pressure on your swollen clit. His two thick fingers pumped steadily inside you, curling against that perfect spot with every thrust. Your loud, broken sobs of pleasure filled the warm garage, mixing with the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth devouring your pussy. Your fingers were tangled tightly in his dark hair, hips grinding desperately against his face as the pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your belly.

He pulled back for just a moment, only long enough to look up at you with dark, lust-blown eyes. His lips were shiny and swollen, chin glistening with your slick. Without breaking eye contact, he gathered saliva in his mouth and spat directly onto your core— a warm, filthy stripe landing right over your clit and dripping down to your entrance.

The sensation was almost overwhelming.

A sharp, needy cry tore from your throat as the warm spit made contact with your already sensitive flesh. Before you could even process it, Jungkook’s fingers were there, spreading the wetness, fucking his spit slowly and deliberately into your hole. The lewd, squelching sound it made was filthy and intoxicating. He pushed two fingers deep, twisting them as he spread the slick mixture, opening you up even more while his thumb continued teasing circles around your clit.

“Oh— god, Jungkook—” you moaned loudly, the words slipping out broken and desperate. The added wetness, the way his fingers fucked his own spit into you so deliberately, it sent a fresh wave of heat crashing through your body. Your thighs trembled violently around his head, hips jerking involuntarily at the overwhelming sensation.

While his mouth hovered teasingly close, still breathing hot against your core, you couldn’t wait any longer. Your hands moved frantically to the oversized flannel still hanging loosely off your shoulders. You tugged it off completely, letting it pool behind you on the workbench. Next came your sweater— you yanked it up and over your head in one hurried motion, tossing it aside. Your bra followed quickly, unclasped with shaky fingers and discarded somewhere on the floor. The cool air of the shop kissed your newly bare skin, making your nipples harden instantly into tight peaks.

Completely naked now except for the way your body was spread open for him, you palmed at your own tits. Your hands squeezed the soft, warm flesh, thumbs brushing over your hard nipples before pinching and tugging on them gently at first, then a little harder as the pleasure between your legs intensified.

Jungkook’s eyes flicked upward the moment you started touching yourself. His mouth was still on you— tongue lapping slowly at your folds, but his gaze locked onto your hands as they kneaded and played with your breasts. The sight of you squeezing the soft flesh, fingers tweaking and tugging on your nipples, sent a deep, guttural groan vibrating straight against your core.

“Fuck… look at you,” he moaned against your pussy, the words muffled but full of raw hunger. “Touching your pretty tits while I eat you out… you’re so fucking hot, baby.”

The vibration of his groan combined with the way his tongue flicked rapidly over your clit again pushed you right to the edge. His fingers never stopped, still fucking his spit and your slick deeper into you with rougher, wet thrusts. The dual sensation, his hot mouth sucking on your clit and his thick fingers stretching and filling you— was too much.

Your back arched sharply off the workbench, one hand still squeezing your breast while the other tightened painfully in his hair. “Jungkook— I’m— ahh!” The orgasm hit you hard. A loud, sobbing cry ripped from your throat as pleasure exploded through your body. Your pussy clenched violently around his fingers, thighs shaking uncontrollably around his head. Waves of intense heat crashed over you again and again, your hips bucking wildly against his mouth as you came so hard you saw stars. Your fingers tugged harshly on your own nipples, the sharp pleasure mixing with the overwhelming sensations between your legs until you were a trembling, moaning mess.

Jungkook didn’t stop. He groaned loudly against your core, lapping up every drop of your release as it coated his tongue and chin. His fingers kept moving through your orgasm, drawing it out as long as possible while he sucked gently on your oversensitive clit. He watched you the entire time— eyes dark and reverent, loving the way your face twisted in ecstasy, the way your tits bounced slightly with every shuddering breath, the way your loud, broken moans filled the entire shop.

Only when your body started to relax, trembling with aftershocks, did he finally ease up. He pressed one last, slow, open-mouthed kiss to your pussy before pulling back slightly, lips and chin shiny with your cum. His fingers slipped out of you gently, and he looked up at your flushed, blissed-out face with a hungry, satisfied smirk. “God… you come so beautifully,” he rasped, voice hoarse and thick with arousal. His hands smoothed soothingly over your trembling thighs as he rose slowly to his feet, stepping between your spread legs once more. “I could watch you fall apart like that all night.”

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, messy kiss so you could taste yourself on his tongue. One of his hands came up to gently cup your breast, thumb brushing over your still-sensitive nipple as he kissed you slower, letting you come down from the high while the storm continued to rage outside.

Your body was still trembling with aftershocks, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. The warm glow of the shop lights bathed your naked skin, making every inch of you look soft and glowing. Jungkook hovered over you, lips shiny with your release, eyes dark and hungry as he watched you come down from your high. His fingers traced soothing patterns on your thighs, but the thick bulge straining against his jeans told you he was far from done.

“Jungkook…” you whispered, voice hoarse and needy from all the moaning. Your hands reached for him, fingers brushing over his arms and tugging weakly at his t-shirt. “Please… I need you. Fuck me. I want you inside me so bad.”

You didn’t even have to beg.

Jungkook was already planning to bury himself deep inside you the moment he tasted your release. Still, hearing those desperate words fall from your sweet lips made his cock twitch hard. A low, possessive groan rumbled in his chest as he leaned down and kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue again. “I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured against your mouth, voice rough with restraint. “Been dying to fuck you since the second I got you in here.”

In one smooth motion, he slid his hands under your thighs and lifted you off the workbench like you weighed nothing. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he carried you the short distance across the garage to your silver car. The hood was still warm from sitting inside the heated shop. He laid you down gently on the smooth, glossy surface, your back meeting the cool metal with a soft gasp. The contrast of the slightly chilled hood against your overheated skin sent a fresh shiver through you.

You looked absolutely beautiful like this— completely naked, spread out on the hood of your own car, hair fanned out beneath you, flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips, legs parted invitingly. The flannel and your other clothes lay forgotten somewhere behind you. Jungkook stood between your thighs, staring down at you like you were the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen.

“Fuck… look at you,” he breathed, hands smoothing reverently up your sides. “Laying on the hood like this, waiting for me. So fucking pretty.”

He couldn’t wait any longer. Jungkook reached behind his neck and pulled his black t-shirt off in one fluid motion, revealing his toned chest, defined abs, and the silver chain that still rested against his collarbones. The chain swayed lightly as he moved, catching the light. Next came his jeans and boxers— he shoved them down his hips and kicked them aside, finally freeing his hard, throbbing cock. It stood heavy and flushed against his stomach, the tip already glistening with precum.

The silver chain was the only thing he kept on. Jungkook stepped closer, hands gripping your thighs as he spread you wider on the hood. He looked down at you with dark, hooded eyes, voice low and husky. “How do you want it, sweetheart? You want me to fuck you slow and deep… or do you want me to pound you hard?”

Your hands slid up his bare chest, palms gliding over warm skin and firm muscle. You traced the lines of his abs, then higher, fingers brushing the silver chain. A shy, almost bashful smile curved your lips as you looked up at him through your lashes. “Pound me,” you whispered sweetly, voice soft and shy despite the filthy words. “I want you to fuck me hard, Jungkook.”

The innocent way you said it— so sweet and delicate, like you were asking for something gentle instead of begging to be railed, made a surprised laugh bubble out of Jungkook. It was low and warm, eyes crinkling with both amusement and raw desire. “Shit… you say it so fucking cute,” he chuckled softly, leaning down to brush his nose against yours. “Say it again for me, baby. Tell me exactly what you want.”

Your cheeks burned hotter, but the ache between your legs was stronger than your shyness. You tugged lightly on his chain, pulling him closer as you repeated, voice still soft and sweet, “Pound me, Jungkook. Please… fuck me hard.”

Jungkook’s laugh faded into a deep, hungry groan. “That’s my girl.”

He wrapped one hand around the base of his cock and tapped the thick head against your soaked pussy. The wet sound it made was filthy. He dragged the tip slowly up and down your slit, letting it catch on your sensitive clit with every pass. Each teasing stroke made your hips twitch and a soft whimper escape your lips. He coated himself in your slick, the head of his cock glistening with a mix of your arousal and his precum.

“Ready for me?” he asked, voice strained with need as he lined himself up at your entrance.

You nodded frantically, legs wrapping tighter around his waist. “Yes— please—”

Jungkook pushed forward. The thick head of his cock stretched you open as he slid in slowly at first, letting you feel every inch. He groaned deeply, eyes fluttering shut for a moment at how tight and warm you felt around him. “Fuck… so tight, baby. Taking me so well.”

Once he bottomed out, hips flush against yours, he paused — letting you adjust to his size while the silver chain dangled between you, brushing lightly against your chest. Then, true to your sweet request, he pulled back almost all the way before slamming back in hard.

The first rough thrust made the car hood creak beneath you and a loud, needy moan spill from your lips.

Jungkook didn’t hold back anymore. He set a punishing rhythm, pounding into you exactly the way you’d asked, deep, hard strokes that made your tits bounce with every thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the garage, mixing with your moans and his low, guttural groans.

His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place on the hood as he fucked you harder, the silver chain swinging with every powerful snap of his hips. “Like that, baby?” he growled, eyes locked on your face, drinking in every expression of pleasure. “This what you wanted? Me pounding this pretty pussy on your car hood?”

The car hood creaked loudly beneath you with every powerful thrust as Jungkook fucked you exactly the way you’d shyly begged for, hard, deep, and relentless. His hips snapped forward with bruising force, driving his thick cock into you over and over again. The wet, obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the warm garage, echoing louder than the muffled howl of the storm outside. Your body jolted with each punishing stroke, tits bouncing heavily as you lay spread out on the glossy metal surface.

“Jungkook— oh my god,” you moaned loudly, voice breaking with pleasure. Your hands gripped the edges of the hood for support as another particularly deep thrust made your back arch. “I love your big dick… god, it feels so good—”

“Yeah?” Jungkook growled, voice rough and filthy as he slammed into you harder. “Fucking take it, baby. Take every inch of this big cock like a good girl.”

His words sent a fresh wave of heat rushing through you. He picked up the pace, fucking you faster and rougher, hips pistoning with raw power. The entire car started to jerk and rock beneath you with the force of his thrusts, the suspension creaking in rhythm with every brutal snap of his hips. The silver chain around his neck swung wildly, occasionally brushing against your chest as he leaned over you.

You were moaning so loudly now— high, needy whines and broken sobs spilling from your lips without any filter. “Ah— yes! Harder— please—” Jungkook’s hands moved from your hips to your tits, grabbing them roughly with both palms. His fingers dug into the soft, plush flesh as he used them for leverage, squeezing hard while he pounded into you. He kneaded and groped them possessively, thumbs brushing roughly over your sensitive nipples, pinching and tugging as he drove his cock deeper.

“Fuck, these tits are perfect,” he groaned, eyes fixed on the way your breasts bounced and spilled between his fingers with every thrust. “So soft… bouncing so pretty while I fuck you.”

Your hand slid down your body, fingers finding your swollen clit. You started rubbing tight, desperate circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves, the added stimulation making your moans turn even louder and more whiny. “Jungkook— ahh! It’s so deep— I’m— god!”

The combination of his brutal pace, his rough hands mauling your tits, and your own fingers frantically playing with your clit pushed you higher and higher. Your pussy clenched tightly around his thick cock, slick sounds growing wetter and louder as you dripped down his shaft.

Jungkook was losing it.

He was so pussy drunk he could barely keep it together. His thrusts grew erratic and even harder, the car rocking more violently beneath you. Low, desperate groans and whiny moans spilled from his own throat— raw and broken, nothing like his usual confident tone. “Shit— baby, you feel so fucking good… this tight little pussy is gripping me so hard. Can’t— fuck— can’t stop…”

His head fell back for a moment, eyes squeezing shut as he fucked you with everything he had. The silver chain bounced against his chest with every savage thrust. Sweat glistened on his toned body, muscles flexing as he used your tits as handles to pull you back onto his cock harder. “You’re so loud for me,” he panted, voice strained and husky. “Keep moaning like that, let me hear how much you love getting your pussy pounded.”

You were a mess, moaning loudly, whining his name, fingers rubbing your clit faster as his cock slammed into you repeatedly. The car continued to jerk and creak under the intensity of your fucking, the hood warm against your back from the friction. Jungkook’s grip on your tits tightened, fingers leaving faint red marks on your skin as he used them to drive himself even deeper, hips snapping forward with desperate, animalistic force.

“Gonna— fuck— gonna make you cum again,” he growled, leaning down closer so the chain dangled right above your face. His eyes were wild, pupils blown wide with lust. “Cum on my cock, baby. Want to feel this pretty pussy squeezing me while I fuck you stupid.”

Your moans turned into loud, continuous whines, body trembling as the pressure built unbearably inside you. Jungkook’s thrusts never slowed— hard, fast, and deep, while his hands continued to grope and squeeze your tits roughly, using them to pull you onto his cock with every stroke. The pressure inside you coiled tighter and tighter until it finally snapped.

You came hard for the second time.

A loud, sobbing cry tore from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you. Your pussy clenched violently around his cock, pulsing and fluttering as waves of intense pleasure ripped through your body. Your back arched sharply off the hood, tits bouncing wildly in his rough grip. Your hand flew down from your clit to his pelvis, pushing weakly at the hard muscle there as the overwhelming sensation became almost too much. “Jungkook— ahh! Too much— I’m cumming— !”

But Jungkook didn’t slow down. Instead, one of his hands released your breast and slid up to wrap firmly around your throat. He didn’t squeeze hard enough to hurt, but the pressure was possessive and controlling as he choked you through your orgasm, hips still snapping forward with deep, punishing thrusts.

“Take it, baby,” he growled, voice rough and strained, eyes locked on your face as you fell apart beneath him. “Take my cum. Gonna fill this pretty pussy up. Don’t push me away— take every fucking drop.” The combination of his cock slamming into your spasming walls, his hand around your throat, and his filthy words sent you spiraling even higher. Your eyes rolled back slightly, loud whiny moans turning into choked, broken sobs of pleasure as you came harder around him.

Jungkook’s rhythm faltered as he chased his own release. His thrusts grew erratic and desperate, the car jerking sharply with every slam of his hips. He was so pussy drunk he could barely hold it together anymore. His breathing was ragged, low whimpers slipping from his throat as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“Fuck— baby— I’m gonna cum,” he panted, voice cracking. “Gonna fill you up— shit—”

With a deep, stuttering groan that quickly turned into a soft, broken whimper, Jungkook buried himself as deep as he could go and came hard. His cock pulsed inside you, thick ropes of warm cum spilling deep into your pussy. His hips jerked erratically with every spurt, the silver chain swinging wildly between you as his body trembled. He whimpered again, a needy, desperate sound that made your walls flutter around him— as he emptied himself completely, flooding you with his release.

Only when the last shudder wracked his body did he loosen his grip on your throat. He stayed buried deep inside you for a long moment, both of you panting heavily, bodies slick with sweat.

Finally, Jungkook pulled out slowly with a wet, obscene sound. A thick trickle of his cum immediately began to leak from your stretched hole. Before it could drip down onto the car hood, your hand moved between your legs. Two of your fingers pushed into your sensitive, cum-filled pussy, slowly fucking his release back inside you with lazy, deliberate strokes.

Jungkook’s eyes widened, breath still coming in harsh pants as he watched the filthy sight. His chest heaved, silver chain rising and falling rapidly with each ragged breath. “Fuck… look at you,” he rasped, voice hoarse and awed. “Pushing my cum back in like such a good girl. So fucking dirty for me.” He couldn’t tear his eyes away, watching your fingers slide in and out of your creamy pussy, pushing every drop of his load deeper while your thighs trembled from the overstimulation. The sight made his spent cock twitch with renewed interest even as he tried to catch his breath.

You looked up at him with hazy, blissed-out eyes, fingers still buried inside yourself, a shy but satisfied little smile playing on your swollen lips. Jungkook leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours as he panted softly. “You’re gonna be the death of me, baby… but fuck, I’m not done with you yet.”

n; this was a request by @internationalplayboi4u i strayed a bit away from the request so i hope that is okay! i hope you like it (:

Chan has been thinking about it for quite some time... and lately it’s all that crosses his mind in the solitude of his nights, when he feels his needs rising and inevitably misses everything about you with a heated-wrenching feeling, he wonders... when was the last time you called him daddy while you were having sex?

It’s almost an automatic thought that he takes refuge in during long, heavy days of pure stress. Rehearsals, filming, traveling, overloaded schedules where he barely has time for himself at night when he just gets to “sleep” in his room... that’s why, when he’s alone, he can only think about human contact with someone other than a coworker or one of the members of his band, and that’s when you inevitably pop into Chan’s mind. Every single detail he already knows about you, like a map by heart.

You text each other quite often, but due to your schedules—especially his—it’s almost impossible for you to see each other. And, although it may sound bad... when he thinks of you, he thinks of sex. Chan is a very energetic and sexual person, and extremely organized, tidy, with clear thoughts; his time counted even when he’s supposed to be resting, so he always tries to organize everything that goes through his mind. He’s straightforward with you—sex and friendship, that’s all he’s looking for in this very busy period of his life; always a good time with you, one kind of time and company he misses madly right now. But he gets a little unhinged when he feels sexually frustrated and stressed—like this precisely moment—, and when night falls, his mind is flooded with images of you, always ready to help each other, relieving each other’s stress, enjoying the sweetest pleasure, your body on top of his or vice versa, the feel of your skin, your femininity, your mouth around him, sucking hard on every ounce of energy he so desperately wants to release.

That’s how you two work. But it’s been a while since you’ve seen each other.

And, clearly, it’s no surprise that he’s been quite frustrated lately. He’s alone; his hand isn’t enough, porn no longer satisfies him. Jeongin, also tired, is always hanging around in the apartment they share, so there’s no privacy. So he just thinks and fantasizes about you, mindlessly scrolling through social media to see what his fans think of him, trying to distract himself with anything he can in the little free time he has, and suddenly the question pops into his head—when was the last time you called him daddy in bed?

The thought is silly and even somewhat amusing at first. Chan must admit that he quite enjoys that little kink a little too much; it makes him feel even more dominant and authoritative. You know it. Everyone knows it. His fans assume it with considerable certainty.

But suddenly the thought is not so lighthearted, and he remembers that it has probably been months since he has enjoyed very dirty sex with you, moaning “daddy” over and over again. Lately, all your encounters have been hot, but normal, no roleplaying, no toys, just both of you using your bodies. But the memories don’t help him at all. He shudders and shifts uncomfortably, clearly aroused every time he relives those moments. He really needs you.

And then, that idea haunts him. He longs for the moment when he can be alone with you and feel you again. He buys you lingerie and new sex toys, and lives with his feelings on the surface, hoping that one day you can both play again just like before.

And that luck comes on a rather random day. Jeongin asks to finish his schedule earlier than expected, all the members agree, and Chan comfortably asks him:

“Are you going to the apartment to rest?”

Jeongin raises an eyebrow at his question, smiling with his typical innocent but mischievous smile, narrowing his eyes, and showing his teeth. He’s up to something, Chan knew it instantly, yet he simply tries to keep the conversation light.

“No. I have plans. I won’t be coming to the dorm today.”

That surprises and excites him a little at the same time.

“Oh yeah? What plans? Outside of schedule, right?”

“Yes, yes. Personal stuff.”

Chan examines him and can’t resist blurting out:

“You got a date? With who?”

“None of your business,” the younger one jokes.

Chan laughs, but doesn’t let his serious side go, always trying to keep up their image in order.

“Be very careful that you don’t get cau...”

“Caught. Yes, I know. I have everything under control.”

And from that moment on, Chan didn’t hesitate for a second to send you a message asking if you could come over to his apartment that night... since Jeongin wouldn’t be there.

Neither of you had plans to see each other so spontaneously, yet you confirmed as soon as you received the message because you knew exactly what it implied and meant. You had been teasing and had been needing each other for a long time.

And that day was no exception. The first thing Chan does after inviting you to his apartment is send you photos of himself at the gym, wearing his tight, slutty tank top, his very muscular and attractive figure on display, his veins showing, his impressive arms looking so deliciously tempting; him telling you that after the gym and taking care of a few things, you can meet up.

You can’t help but get a little turned on, you know how flirtatious he is, but you still fall for it every time. You rush out of work and return the favor—a rather provocative photo after getting out of the shower, telling him you’re getting ready to see him.

Both are incredibly eager to see each other, awakening every sense and desire for one another. However, just when Chan thinks his day at work is over, an unfinished business comes up that he must take care of. He believes it won’t take too long, and between his impatience and desperation, he encourages you, saying that you should go to his apartment anyway and that he’ll be there soon, and then you’ll be able to see each other. To tease you even more, he texts you the following, which makes your skin tingle.

Sweetie, go to my room when you get there Daddy has a surprise for you Something we’re going to have fun with later 😉 I can’t wait to see you, baby ㅠㅠ

You understand everything perfectly... It’s been a while since Chan called himself Daddy, and the memories of those times, the feelings still lingering in you, excite you even more. So... it is that kind of encounter.

So you go to his apartment, all dolled up for him. You know the key-code to get in, and you’re immediately embraced by the clean smell of his home. The apartment is spotless, even though Chan travels a lot, quite often, and normally you’d leave your suitcase there, a little mess because you know you’ll be leaving again anyway, but not for Chan. He’s very strict about order and cleanliness.

You walk around his apartment, certainly happy, somewhat skeptical that you are finally there, that at any moment he will walk through that door and you will see each other... you think about what you will do to him... about the small talk you’ll obviously have before even starting anything sexual, catching up on details of each other’s lives that you haven’t mentioned in messages, and finally, you’ll both slowly get closer, letting the tension consume you... and so, your first big desire is to give him head, to suck his cock hard, keeping your body sensitive, excited, your mind, mouth, and hands terribly busy... that’s what you want right now and couldn’t wait for it.

Finally, you head to his room, impatient to see what you might find, but at first glance there was nothing but his perfectly tidy room.

That’s when you let him know you’ve arrived at his room and, somewhat indecisive, you decide to play his little game of seduction, calling him daddy at the end of the message.

Chan’s ears turn red as he reads your message at the company building, then smiles, and quickly replies that you should check his closet and the drawer in the dresser next to his bed. You obey him and are surprised to see a box of pink lingerie and a drawer full of new vibrators and dildos. Your reaction is to let out a little laugh as you think about how perverted he has become with you, but impatience returns as you realize once again that he would continue with the game, his undeniable daddy kink, his dominant and authoritative side. And then you come up with the great idea of waiting for him, already wearing the lingerie, even though you already had a cute set on under your clothes.

And again, you start teasing Chan. You send him provocative photos of yourself wearing the lingerie from the best possible angles, lying on his bed, selfies in his mirror, saying how much you miss your daddy and want him to be right there with you.

On the other hand, Chan can’t do anything but swallow nervously and tense up when he sees your photos, pretending to look at something on his phone.

But, unfortunately, the first few hours pass, and Chan hasn’t arrived at his apartment; he’s stuck in that last-minute meeting. You both start to get frustrated and bored.

You think that maybe it wasn’t the right time to see each other, plus you’re tired from your long day at work. So, you’re about to take a sweet nap in his bed, surrounded by his masculine scent and perfectly clean sheets, still wearing lingerie... when your intrusive thoughts take over—what if you masturbate?

You’re slightly overwhelmed, physically tired from the stress and work you’ve been carrying all week, but at the same time, you’re excited, not only sexually, but also knowing that you would release stress and be pleased by Chan, and just horny. Missing him, missing the idea of exactly how he fucks you, which now seems so far away, given the hours that have passed, and he’s not even on his way home.

You lazily pick up the vibrator and a dildo and, with a resigned sigh, still slightly embarrassed, lying on his bed, you take off your panties, open your legs, and press the vibrator against your clit. The sensation is not long in coming; you are so sensitive, so aroused that you let out a soft moan as the toy does its job. You move gently in his soft sheets, your pelvis wiggles, and you lightly massage your breasts... thinking exactly about him, the way he does it, and how he touches you. You gently press the toy harder against your sensitive spot, enduring the gentle pain and overstimulation it is becoming. You bite your lip to stifle a moan, close your eyes, enduring as long as your body can take it, until having your first orgasm, your muscles throbbing and your femininity already lubricated. You quickly turn off the vibrator and enjoy the small orgasm for the remaining seconds, staring at the ceiling.

But climaxing alone leaves you feeling even emptier. And Chan’s sudden message, which notification sounds alarms you at just the right moment, gives you a very good and dirty idea.

Chan apologizes again for not arriving yet. And you, without any remorse, send him a short video—lying on his bed, you show your face, slightly flushed with embarrassment, and your still blossoming and intense arousal from your recent orgasm. You bite your lip subtly, and the camera on your phone slowly pans down, capturing your breasts in that lingerie, your hand sensually moving down your body until it reaches your pussy. You record it directly and explicitly, your wet, throbbing pussy, spread your lips for him, and then you proceed to record how your entrance expands so that the dildo slides inside you. You moan softly and penetrate yourself only twice, and the video cuts off to send it to Chan.

i really miss u, daddy 😔 come over quick im touching myself already thinking of u im waiting

You masturbated a couple more times, ignored Chan’s messages, and got distracted for a few minutes. You came twice, left the dildo coated with your wet pussy, and suddenly you stopped. You’re exhausted, partially satisfied, but satisfied nonetheless, and you feel too lazy to get up and clean up the little mess you’ve made. You put the toys aside, close your eyes, and your body unconsciously relaxes completely, leaving you pathetically asleep in a peaceful, deep, and pleasant sleep.

Meanwhile, Chan opens his eyes in surprise as soon as he plays the video. He is grateful that no one is next to him and that he is wearing an AirPod, so he watches the video, completely flustered the first time, and then repeats it with his heart racing and appreciates the details. The exquisite image of what he should have been satisfying himself with long ago if he weren’t stuck in a meeting, your sweet moans directly into his ear, and the soft sound of your wet pussy when you touch it and insert the toy into yourself... Chan swallows nervously, clears his throat, and feels his cock harden. He has to get out of there and see you as soon as possible; he can’t stand it for another second. If the meeting went on any longer, he would have to interrupt it for a quick bathroom break and jerk off right there, given how horny and needy he’s getting.

It’s already quite late by the time Chan finally arrives home, slightly worried and embarrassed that he’s kept you waiting, that because of him the plan hasn’t worked out as you both hoped. Not to mention that he hasn’t heard from you since you sent him that video. He doesn’t know if you’re angry because he was late, if you’ve left, although he realizes you’re still there when he sees your shoes in the foyer.

Chan smirks as he approaches you, resigned to the fact that tonight’s plans are ruined because he refuses to wake you up, and he’s a little tired himself. So his next thought is that he’ll take a shower and lie down next to you, see what tomorrow brings for you two. However, that tender perception he had of you vanishes when he’s only a few feet away, getting a better look at you. His smile fades gently, and he carefully examines every inch of you. You are asleep on your side, your hands cushioning your cheek, your butt slightly raised, naked from the waist down, panties and used sex toys carelessly tossed aside in contrast to your angelic appearance.

His jaw tenses because, despite being tired, he has been holding back his desires for quite some time... and seeing you like this, so innocently provocative in a position that only worsens his dirty thoughts and deep lust, doesn’t help.

Chan takes a step back, restraining himself, before losing himself in the curves of your figure that lead to your exposed vulnerability, analyzing it in detail, leaving him like a pervert who memorizes and watches the speed at which you breathe while you sleep.

He decides to get in the shower, trying to calm down, hoping the water will lower his arousal, but it seems almost impossible; he feels completely uncomfortable as he feels his erection rise again, this time fully erect, hard and firm, as if he had taken a pill to achieve the perfect state of firmness.

He sighs in frustration and grabs himself, trying to masturbate with the water falling on his body... but it just felt so wrong, the friction of his hand, his attempt to pull it, wasn’t satisfying him. He didn’t want his hands, or to do it himself, let alone when the image of you is engraved in his mind, sleeping so peacefully and half-naked, or the image of touching yourself, waiting for him. He couldn’t help it; you are there, lying on his bed like a helpless sleeping beauty.

He finishes showering, awkwardly putting on his underwear as his member is sensitive and the fabric rubs against it. Chan stands there, in front of his bed, watching you occupy a sweet space on it. He thinks his erection will go away, that he’ll take a deep breath and just focus on sleeping... but he’s just so fucking horny right now. He’s even shirtless because of how hot his body temperature feels.

Chan didn’t want to do it, but he does it anyway, looking at you again, even more closely; he’s surprised that his noise didn’t wake you up. You must be fast asleep, and it seems that you are indeed. Unlike when he found you, you’ve moved a little; one of your legs is still bent, while the other is stretched out. You’re still sleeping on your side... and your pussy is still exposed, looking so appetizing. All of you. He doesn’t think he can hold out that long, not with you like this.

He sighs in frustration once more, wondering what he should do. Wake you up and immediately confess that he wants sex? Chan didn’t want to complicate things further, so he takes the lubricant, pulls down his shorts and underwear, and begins to masturbate with the image of you on your back, ass round and up for him, lips sweetly together.

He puts lubricant on his hand and starts from the tip, moving down to his swollen length. He bites his lip and throws his head back for a second, his breathing and pulse quickening. There is a certain guilt in his conscience, as he is like a pervert, jerking off his cock, trying not to moan loudly, touching himself in front of the image of you asleep.

Still, he can’t help himself. The lubricant slides deliciously over his very erect cock. He tightens his grip, watches you, and imagines that it’s your tight pussy, that you‘re there for him, taking his size inside you, moaning, writhing, and asking for more and more in your sweet voice.

But you have no idea what’s going on around you. You’re comfortably asleep. Meanwhile, Chan is struggling to come, holding back his grunts, breathing deeply, masturbating harder, the room filling with the sound of his hand satisfying his penis and desire... yet he feels like something is missing for him to come, and it bothers him to know exactly what it is. He wants to have you.

Would it be inappropriate to touch you? You woke him up before with your mouth on his cock... could he return the favor for the first time?

He doesn’t think twice and acts almost on impulse. He thinks that if you wake up, he might be able to slowly and gently persuade you to do it, and if not... at least he could touch or caress you, since he can’t resist any longer. Chan carefully lies down next to you, behind you. You feel a slight weight beside you, but you remain asleep, unaware of what is surrounding you. Chan breathes in your scent and observes you intently, from your hair to every detail of your relaxed body, breathing calmly.

But having you even closer makes it harder for him to control himself. He can appreciate in greater detail how sweetly wet you still are, your entrance glistening slightly. And yes, you drifted off an hour ago, body still warm and slick from your earlier touches, hips tingling, thighs slightly parted, every curve alive with sensitivity. You had anticipated Chan touching you.

He can’t resist, and his hand slides carefully down your hip, at first brushing against you with the utmost delicacy, barely even touching you. You feel a soft tickling sensation, and your body reacts by twitching slightly. Chan pulls his hand away and waits a few seconds, but you remain asleep, so he continues, moving closer to you. His caresses remain delicate, but soon become persistent and present. His hand moves from your waist to your hip, where he traces slow, teasing circles, and a shiver runs through you unconsciously. Your back arches slightly, and your skin gently brushes Chan’s exposed, sensitive cock, which throbs intensely and makes him moan softly.

At that point, Chan believes that once again he cannot endure, besides he conveniently finds it very difficult to masturbate and touch you at the same time in that position, and his impulses and desires once again whisper and suggest ideas to him, such as simply sliding into you, fucking you gently while you sleep without interrupting your rest, and, if he does, wakes you up, he’d just justifying himself.

His heart races, but somehow he believes that this is the only way he can release all his tension and sexual frustration—by finally taking you.

He convinces himself that it will only be this once, that if it bothers you, he will stop, and that in the best-case scenario, you won’t even notice. He would be very careful.

He had been ignoring the thought, but it was more than clear that it simply turned him on to see you lying there, peacefully asleep, and that he could fuck you carefully, almost like a secret. A naughty, risky act.

It was something so daring that it really got him going right now. So he does it that way, slowly, stealthily, and carefully; he positions his body, holds his cock, his hands almost trembling from how energetically nervous he is. The silence in the room is quite loud in a way, and in his mind, he just repeats over and over, do it, do it.

Chan rubs his glans, coated in precum, against your slick folds and entrance. He moans softly and closes his eyes because he can still feel the warmth of your intimacy and finally he presses against you from behind, the warmth of both sexes connecting, his member gliding easily into your already wet insides, and the effect of his already well-lubricated cock. He lets out a needy and ragged sigh, every muscle in his body contracting at the most delicate and simple action. He waits for a reaction from you, but at first, there is none. Chan had never been this careful with you before; he was barely just adjusting himself inside.

Gently, he pushes himself a little further, still without touching you, watching closely as your pussy subtly stretches to make space for him. His tip rests at your entrance and stays there, secure and warm, superficially inside you, but incredibly satisfying enough to begin delicately provoking his collapse. Chan thinks for a moment that just the tip, he’d do his best to fuck you like that, playing with it and with your cunt delicately, just enough to come and not wake you up, as to what would happen if he tried to penetrate you. However, you react unconsciously, causing an exasperated growl to escape from him, fueling his desire to simply put it all in without a second thought; your hips tilt instinctively, adjusting to him better, inches below just his glans, you arch your back, and your thighs tighten to almost guide him.

It’s even better than he had imagined. The idea of fucking you like this fills him completely with a wild and almost uncontrollable urge. Even so, he remains still, his muscles tensing tighter, the rest of his length throbbing with the same intensity as his heartbeat. There’s something twisted and so hot about doing it in the dark, hiding, even from you.

Chan bites his lower lip hard, checking to see if you’re still asleep, and you are. He dares to touch you again, his hand resting on your hip as he tries to slide even deeper inside you, slowly and gently, watching for your every reaction. He controls and contains his moans of pleasure, at the same time refraining from pushing too far into you, as he thinks it’s impossible for you not to feel his swollen cock suddenly slip inside you.

Soon, part of his cock is embraced by the warmth, wetness, and tightness of your pussy, ready but completely relaxed. Even so, as you both feel it, your muscles and body react on their own, you gently arch your back more, your thighs move with a very provocative impatience, you hum sweetly—unaware, confusing, moving your torso a little, and, best of all for Chan, your pussy prepares itself, adapting to him, throbbing gently as you feel him.

Chan tries to move, penetrating you delicately in a sweet back and forth motion, pulling out a little but not completely—his cock teases the surface of your entrance and then slides back into you, just a few, but very significant inches below his glans, light enough but intense to make his shaft throb and gently squeeze his already swollen veins, of his entire arousal that erects every sense of him.

He continues like that, his hand holding your hip without pressing hard, every muscle tense, almost whimpering and sweating from the indescribable sensation that brings him to his imminent climax. Your body reacts to him, to each of his delicate thrusts, spreading your walls, getting wetter for him due to the constant action and friction, making you slick and ready, shivering slightly as warmth takes over your femininity and controls each gentle pulsation, getting you used to him. Meanwhile, tiny, soft breaths escape without awareness, your face remains calm, eyes closed, utterly unaware of what’s happening.

Chan caresses you without losing his rhythm, completely blinded by the overwhelming, pumping and electrifying sensation that runs passionately through his veins and every corner of his body. His knuckles and fingertips skim your skin, from your thighs to your bare arm. He thinks you look so angelic like this, breathing deeply, moving your body as you try to adapt to whatever you’re feeling; with every movement that makes your hips press back, thighs clench, the subtle lift of your hips, spine arching, and soft, unthinking moans escape. Your body pulses instinctively around him with each deliberate thrust, quivering and tightening Chan, whose body is desperately begging to reach orgasm.

He continues, slow and deliberate, letting your body’s natural rhythm dictate the pace because he doesn’t want to wake you up. And he thinks he can control himself, and he does for a good while, until he feels his orgasm building slowly, pleasantly, and a little painfully.

Chan loses himself for a moment, the tense muscles in his thighs begin to tremble, even though he has been trying to maintain the best possible position, in addition to his impending climax. He whimpers, closes his eyes tightly as he sighs and moans softly, “fuck, f-fuck,” feeling pleasantly overwhelmed. His grip on your hips tightens, and he unconsciously lets himself go deeper into you.

And, for you, right there it becomes inevitable not to feel it, all of him and the act, the heaviness and warmth of his figure behind you, his hand holding you, and the constant tingling pulsation in your pussy that you know so well, but which takes you completely by surprise as you slowly regain consciousness.

Your eyes open slowly, and you’re a little startled at first. Your heart races, and your senses become alert as you feel him pressing inside you with more intensity.

You know it’s him, but you’re still confused, so the first thing you say is:

“Ch-Channie?”

But he doesn’t stop, because he feels so close, right at the peak of his pleasure, excited in complete bliss. He leans close and murmurs warmly against your ear:

“Shh… shhh… it’s okay, baby, you can stay still, daddy’s gonna cum in your pretty pussy, my princess.”

You swallow nervously and blink suddenly. His soft, rough tone of voice makes you shiver, and your mind starts to catch up with the sensations your body has already known.

Chan takes advantage of the fact that you’ve woken up and abruptly moves his body closer, pushing his firm cock deeper into you, and begins to massage your breasts, holding you with a strength that only he can control. Fighting him is futile, even though you think that’s not exactly what you want right now.

“Cha-n,” you whimper.

You are still in a gentle state of confusion, but you are starting to get excited by feeling helpless, trapped by his strong grip, his cock burying itself deep into your already very wet pussy. You don’t know when you got like this, but you simply love that your body has accepted it.

“Should I stop, princess?” he adds in a sultry sigh.

You come back to your senses, although Chan’s big cock inside you numbs you as you revel in pleasure and a subtle burning sensation. You whimper as you try to adapt to his faster rhythm, to his cock deep inside you, stretching and pushing you from within.

You shake your head frantically and your mind fills with so many things you want to do, move impatiently, look at his face, appreciate his new haircut that you haven’t seen, kiss him… but you limit yourself to the immediate sensations, responding with a soft moan:

“No-no, daddy, please, keep going—don’t stop.”

“Good girl. It’s okay, I knew you’d take daddy’s cock very well. I know you like it when I fuck you like this—with daddy waking you up inside you, huh, isn’t that right?”

Chan presses his body against yours, thrusting deeply and somewhat roughly, skin colliding, the sounds of your excited bodies joining together, you can barely adapt.

“Fu-ck-daddy, it’s too much!” you moan.

Chan shudders when he hears your sweet moans and that little nickname and game of domination coming from your lips.

“It’s okay. My princess can take it, right?”

“Y-yes, daddy!”

You’re very easy to arouse, especially when it comes from him, and in the surprising, sensitive, and anticipatory state you were in. You were practically ready for him. You watch his pale hand with his protruding veins massage your breasts and then descend to your clit where he indulges in playing with it. You writhe with pleasure and impatience, overwhelmed and breathless.

“Stay still, baby. Let daddy take care of you, okay? I owe it to you, my sweetheart, after making you wait so long that you had to touch yourself.”

You obey him. Chan moans in your ear as he penetrates you hard. His arm slides beneath your face and takes complete control of your body, holding your neck gently.

“I bet you enjoyed your new little toys, but nothing like daddy filling your little pussy with his cum, baby girl.”

You feel his cock twitching inside you, and, followed by a soft whimper, he fills you with his warm semen. However, he doesn’t stop, he continues to thrust into you during his orgasm, his hand on your throat and caressing your sensitive spot with the other. You become more tense and impatient, he knows how close you are too.

“Cum, cum for me, princess, oh fuck—yes! Do it. Cum on daddy’s cock.”

And you release yourself. Cumming shakely for him in a breathless whimper.

Chan slows the pace of his thrusts until he stops, releases his grip, his hand moves from your clit to embrace your waist, and lets you both feel the pulsing intimacy of each other after your orgasm. He sighs and plants a warm kiss behind your ear.

“You did very well, sweetheart. Sleep again, you can rest with my cock inside you.”

ֺּׅ𓏲𝄢̣̣̥ taglist: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89 @lolareadsimagines @ayyonoona @do-you-remember-summer-127 @wildtokay @korthbum @hyune-sssne @cherricola-star @oddracha @biscuitthefirst @choso4u @vernorica123 @life-is-a-game-of-thrones @bokkiesluv @thvsuga @myrkhive @enhacolor @wh1mp @nightmarenyxx @smuttaburger @mintchocoddeonut @ysljoon @wonniecutie @staytinyluva @rockstarkkami @lyuuu88 @vxyselectric @mrsha-ang-kim  @rekussk @eyes-ofhell @lezleeferguson-120 @memo2003 @deffnot-ramiyah @amileyysblog @ch4nniebang @bitesizd @xesqz @jellyfishmushroom @ye0lkkot @axlenbear @127ismylife @soonie1010 @geni-627 @whoa-jo  @gigi-bunny

shhhh im trying to bring daddy kink back even if its cringe. i deadass thought i would write 3k words...

“You WHAT?” They shouted in unison, disrupting peace at the cafe you used to frequent with your friends, as you winced. It was after graduation, and you and the rest of your friends, along with Jeonghan and Seungcheol, went to the cafe one last time to celebrate your graduation.

“The two of you fake-dated, and you didn’t tell me?! I knew the dates didn’t match up!” Mingyu shook his head, baffled as Seungcheol snorted, also in disbelief.

“And you guys said I was in on it?” He took a sip of his coffee before continuing. “Please, I was as surprised as you lot when I found out Jeonghan was dating her all of a sudden. You guys were lucky none of us had classes together, or it would’ve been hella awkward.”

“I can’t believe you managed to keep it a secret for so long. From the way the two of you made out, it looked super real.” Seokmin added, taking a bite of his food.

“Well, we actually started really dating after Easter break.” You admitted, which caused Mingyu to groan.

“What the hell… This is giving me a headache.” He muttered as you chuckled awkwardly. “And this was all because of what?”

You faltered at that, glancing at Jeonghan, who gave you a mischievous grin. You glared at your boyfriend as he started speaking. “It was because I lied to my mom about having a girlfriend. And because I saw the filthy things—”

“That’s enough talking for you, Yoon Jeonghan.” You shoved a piece of bread into his mouth, Mingyu catching on as he let out a cackle. Your embarrassment grew as you groaned. “You guys suck.”

“Well, hey, I told you not to write porn in public spaces.” 

Seungcheol’s head snapped up as he almost choked on his coffee. “Excuse me, write what?”

Another groan left your lips as Jeonghan snickered at the chaos commencing. “One, it wasn’t in public; it was in my room. Jeonghan just snooped around when I was gone. And two, it’s erotica, stop calling it like that in public, you make me sound like a pervert!”

“From the contents of your work, all I can say is—” you shoved another piece of bread into your boyfriend’s mouth, shutting him up once more. The six of you continued to talk about various things, your plans for the future and whatnot, and when it was time to head out, Jeonghan took you aside, wanting to talk about something.

“Yeah, what’s up?” You asked, expression soft as he smiled at you, looking almost nervous as he wiped his hands on his slacks. “Hannie?”

You looked concerned, but waited for him to speak as he groaned and chuckled. “Fuck, how am I supposed to do this—I swear I practised this…” He muttered softly as he shook his head before continuing.

“What I want to say is that.. We’ve been together for over two years. I know that’s not long, but to me, those whole two years were filled with nothing but pure bliss, even when we argued sometimes about the most stupid things, but that doesn’t matter right now, because I love you. And you know that. And—and, I just… I know I wasn’t the best person in your life at first, but when we started that whole fake dating ordeal, I realised how much I liked being around you without annoying you. I just felt like I was where I was meant to be, and I wanted to do this for so long, but right now feels like the right moment to do this…”

Jeonghan then knelt on one knee and took a velvet box from his pocket, making you gasp into your hands as tears started to form at your waterline. He murmured your name softly, a shaky smile on his lips. “I want to be with you forever, because that’s the only way I’ll love you, so… Will you marry me?”

You choked out a sob before nodding. “Yes.. yes…!” Jeonghan stood up from his position, sighing in relief as he hugged you and picked you up, spinning you around before setting you down.

“Thank god, because that would’ve been embarrassing if you said no.” He nosed your cheek before slipping the ring onto your finger. You looked up at him, confused, before a burst of confetti surprised you and a banner saying ‘Congratulations!’ was being held up by Mingyu and your father. Tommy ran to you and Jeonghan and hugged you both.

“My wish came true! You’re gonna be together forever! Just like Mom and Dad!”

You giggled at that, wiping your tears as you smiled at Jeonghan. Forever with him sounded perfect, and that was the way you loved him.

profiles (1) profiles (2)

intro

1 ) jaehyun’s trophy wife

2 ) free cookies (not really)

3 ) midnight disturbance

4 ) attempted murder?

5 ) THIS IS FAMILY

6 ) haechan’s second identity

7 ) kiss buddies and useless complaints

8 ) critically acclaimed idgaf veteran

9 ) founders keepers..?

10 ) yangyang’s new interest (y/n)

11 ) a late welcome party

12 ) invest in a cage jaemin

13 ) cat fight (REAL)

14 ) the cure to a lack of sleep = cup pong

15 ) who said quiet guys can’t be freaky?

16 ) you got a girlfriend?

17 ) i DO have a girlfriend

18 ) this is life, i love life..

19 ) nah. they fucking.

20 ) let’s play apex?

21 ) whole house mad

22 ) drunken regrets

23 ) he’s got to be fucking with me..

24 ) a sincere apology letter (kinda)

25 ) are we cool or not?

26 ) we’re good (for real)

27 ) a personal guitar lesson

28 ) LIVE TWEETING YNHAE MOMENTS

29 ) a moment of vulnerability

30 ) friendly q&a between friends

31 ) that’s strange.. that’s weird..

32 ) solution to job loss = family guy (???)

33 ) what has jaehyun done for society?

34 ) ynhae bonding activity hours

35 ) an unwanted double date with yangyang

36 ) an overwhelming realisation

37 ) the universe can kill itself

38 ) a “what are we” conversation

39 ) i got that hair too, kinda

40 ) reviewing haechan’s tweet and new issues

41 ) diagnosed with the crush disease

42 ) putting your satisfaction first

43 ) some girl talk with mark.. this diva..

44 ) girls day gone WRONG

45 ) homies before hoemies

46 ) #BringBackGenderNorms2024

47 ) no one but us

48 ) the words of the DEVIL

49 ) remove the fake from life

50 ) y/n and jaemin would’ve loved this

51 ) you’re a queen and he’s just.. there

52 ) we are sooooo fixing this

53 ) spiritual connection attempts

54 ) satanic mind manipulation

55 ) cucklord

56 ) when you kinda gaf

57 ) when you been thuggin it out for so long

58 ) a second try

59 ) be careful who you call OOMF

60 ) the paid price

BONUS:

TBA . . .

you didn't waste time as you started running, your feet slamming as you ran harder this time than before, ragged gasps leaving you from the run but it wasn't from fear but from excitement that he would catch you and that he will do everything he said he would.

you couldn't hear him counting anymore… maybe you were far enough that's why? you could only hear your frantic steps and also the distant noise of a crow.

you risked one single glance over your shoulder once again and a yell left you as you saw that he was slowly making his way forward, not even hurrying, just slow steps as if he knew he didn't even have to put any effort to match yours like he had all the time in the world and was intentionally letting you go far but you knew deep inside you that you could never match his strength and pace and that he could catch you in seconds.

he watched you with those black eyes, cigarette still between his lips. the sight of him made your cunt feel empty, clenching around nothing. you whipped forward again, pushing harder to run as your thighs screamed from the strain. you told yourself that maybe you could actually get further away from the monster with the scarred face, you wanted to hide and disappear once again.

“run rabbit, run…” you could hear his voice singing.

but deep down you prayed that he had already begun to move quicker that he'd catch you soon.

sweat had begun to soak through your top making it cling to your breasts obscenely outlining the shape of them as your hard nipples poked through despite your bra, the more time went by with you running, the more the slickness grew between your thighs.

you pressed your palm against a tree pausing for a bit to catch your breath and you couldn’t hear his steps anymore so you let yourself catch a break before you ran again. you swallowed hard tasting your tears and the blood from where your lips bled but just as you were about to take another step forward, smoke engulfed you. you realized the scent of tobacco immediately and that it was from his cigarette as you felt the exhale of it touch your cheek warmly.

you didn’t dare turn around as goosebumps erupted all over your arms, your ears freezing upright. he hadn’t sprinted for you or even breathed hard.

he had simply… arrived.

as though the darkness itself had let him step through

yoongi stood so close that you could feel his breaths hitting the back of your neck while your own gasps wouldn’t stop. one of his arms shot out wrapping around your waist, resting just below your breasts while the other hand slowly slid up the column of your throat until his fingers curled around your throat not choking, not yet just cradling while his thumb stroked over the sensitive spot of your neck as a fond chuckle left him.

“told you i'd catch you bun.”

your knees gave out instantly at his words, you couldn’t deny the small smile on your lips at the fact that he'd caught you. his grip tightened immediately as he lifted you clean off the ground with one arm flipping you over his broad shoulder, effortlessly manhandling you as though you were a doll. you squealed as your belly pressed against the hard ridge of his muscle and your skirt flipped up completely now bunching around your waist because of your position, leaving your damp panties exposed as your fluffy bunny tail also remained exposed.

“o-oh god!”

you let out as your small tail brushed against his scarred cheek and his free hand rose and palmed your ass with ownership, fingers digging enough to spread you slightly. you whimpered loudly at his touch as you remained upside down.

“even this little tail is begging for it.”

he started walking again and it was as if you weighed nothing to him. every step jolted your panty clad pussy on his hard muscle that pressed against your clit which left a humiliating slick trail down the side of his neck. you clawed uselessly at his back in embarrassment, holding onto his jacket as you bounced pathetically on his shoulder, each bounce made you tremble harder.

“p-please—”

“put me—put me down p-please—”

“why?” he mocked.

he shifted you higher on his shoulder casually so you wouldn't slip and repositioning you until your cunt presses more directly against the column of his throat. he lets out a growl at the smell of your arousal and the fact that your pussy was so close and he could so easily tilt his head and take a taste of it but he wanted to wait. he was never a patient man but he was being one for you. another way you were testing him was by making him do things he never does as his hand tightened on your thighs enough to leave a mark.

“so you can run again? so you can keep pretending your pussy isn't crying for me?”

his words vibrated straight into your clit and you had to bite back a sob, he lets out a dark laugh.

“you're making a mess on me bunny, soaking my neck and i'm the one who's supposed to be angry here.”

he pauses with a harsh breath.

“i came here to kill you, not to play games with you.”

he stopped so suddenly the world lurched.

he spun you around and slammed you against the side trunk of a tree with enough force to knock the air from your lungs as he made your legs wrap around his waist. both of you are chest to chest now as his hips pinned yours so hard you felt every ridge of his belt buckle grinding into the mound of your pussy as his hard chest made your boobs squish against them.

you looked at him with wide eyes as he grabbed the gun once again. he just couldn't believe that you were this dumb and foolish. he knew you wanted him to catch you and that you paused just so he'd catch you. that you'd willingly not left, when he went as far as to let you go, you had every choice to leave and go home safely but you decided to stay and it drove him further crazy.

it made him want to kill you and then kill himself too because he'd kill anyone who hurts you that includes even his own self. he pressed the gun against your throat while his other palm pressed beside your head.

“look at me.” he commands roughly.

you obeyed as you looked at him with blurred vision from your tears.

“why are you doing this to me?”

he asks the question furiously.

“i kill things like you.. that's all i've ever done.”

he pressed the muzzle harder against your neck, showing you exactly how quick he could end it and you understood how hard he was trying to scare you so you'd actually run away and he could escape all the complicated feelings you were emitting in him. both of you were trying to escape this.

“and now i'm standing here so fucking hard i can barely think straight. you should already be bleeding out and dying on the ground... instead i'm here losing my goddamn mind because your scent—”

he drags his nose along the side of your throat as he inhales deeply.

“-is everywhere.. like you were made for this. for me.”

the gun never wavered as your eyes grew half lidded at his words. it was like the world ceased and nothing else existed anymore.

only you both.

both your fear and want have mingled because now you can see fear in his eyes too—fear of what he's feeling because of you, fear that he'd lose himself in you. your teeth sank into your bottom lip again which stopped bleeding and was swollen now, the pain was grounding as both of your eyes locked together intensely.

“then... then do it. kill me.” you croaked out.

“if—if that's what you want.”

yoongi's laugh comes out broken.

“that's the fucking problem rabbit.”

“i don't want to.” he confessed.

your breath stutters as your stomach fills with butterflies you've never felt before. he used his other hand to cup your cheek with surprising gentleness.

“tell me to stop, i mean it. look me in the eye and say the word... and i walk away. won’t touch you again. won’t come back.”

he looks every bit serious, if you said no right now and wanted him to leave you alone, he'd let you go and he wouldn't touch you or look at you. whatever you wanted, all you had to do was say that word “no.” but instead you clung to him, your hand fisting his shirt as you looked at him with needy eyes even if he held the gun against you.

he thought he was scaring you, making you reconsider but you also knew he wouldn't hurt you. you also knew he wasn't the bad person and the cruel hunter he believed himself to be. all you saw was the man who was willing to let you go not once but twice. all you saw was a man so much in darkness that he believed that it was his identity... he just needed a hand to pull himself out of it.

“d-don't stop...” you breathed.

you felt alive for the first time in your life from the entire cat and mouse thing and the thrill even if it was with the man who came to kill you. you didn't care about anything tonight, you wanted to be reckless and you wanted this man, this man whose name you still didn't know but who looked at you like he knew you better than anyone else.

he growls at your words like they had reached his chest.

“you silly bunny, you're supposed to run for your life. you have no survival instincts do you?”

you knew. you knew you were silly for this for playing with death but you wanted him more than anything.

you gasped when he suddenly moved, your nipples stood out as hard points as he used his pistol to descend, following the curve of your throat and then lowering over your collarbone. you watched as he trailed the paddle between your breasts until it circled one of your nipples just slightly before pulling away.

you arched into it, chasing the feeling as a needy noise left you before you could stop it. it was so wrong and forbidden yet you wanted more of it.

“you want me?” he grumbles, never taking his eyes off you as you pant against the tree.

you nod slowly and he presses his gun right on the side of your breast making you squeak.

“say it.” he demands.

“i w-want you...”

saying the words out loud was too much like you were openly voicing your wildest fantasies.

“fuckk you're killing me bun.”

he jerked as if you'd just physically hit him, he loved how sweet those words sounded on your tongue and he wanted to hear them a thousand more times especially the noises you made at the touch of his gun. he began to move the barrel around your nipple in slow circles never quite giving you the direct pressure that you so badly craved.

“h-hahh.” you moaned.

even on top of layers of your clothing, it felt intense as you gripped his shoulders helplessly. each pass made your bud even harder as your breathing comes out in little pants.

he watched your flushed cheeks that were turning a deep shade of pink as your bunny ears quivered at the pleasure you were facing. your lips remaining parted, legs shaking around his waist and he balances you against the tree with one hand under your butt.

“never has anyone made those sounds for me before..” he murmurs.

“never wanted to hear them.”

it was the truth because the fleeting sex he had occasionally was just quick and rough, no strings attached and he always left right after and never remembered their names. it was just a distraction and that's it but with you it's different, with you it's something he cannot even describe himself but he knew he wanted more of it.

wanted to make you feel good.

then he slowly so slowly, dragged the barrel over your stomach that was revealed because your top had ridden up as he traced your belly button and the sensitive ticklish spot making you moan and giggle together, the both sounds mixing together and his lips curve up. when he reached the apex of your thighs, he didn't hesitate.

“mhmm.”

he nudged the muzzle firmly between your legs and pressed it directly against your clit through the soaked cotton of your panties.

“ahnn.”

you choked out as your thighs trembled so badly you thought they'd give out entirely, your body so weak it was entirely held up by yoongi. the metal was so cold against your dripping cunt and the pressure was perfect as he began to rock the gun in a rotation, dragging the length of the barrel over your clit in a rhythm as if wanting to destroy you.

you couldn't help but chase the friction as the wet fabric of your panty made your wetness seep through it making the steel glisten with your arousal.

it was so erotic.

and you could hardly breathe as you covered your mouth with your palm, biting the inside of it.

“look how wet you are..” yoongi rasped.

he titled the gun just enough and positioned it against your inner thigh as he tilted your head down so your eyes focused on the gun.

“this piece has my initials carved right here.”

his finger brushed over the “MYG” etched there. this gun was his only companion and special to him because he used it to kill his first prey.

“you see this? min yoongi.” he mutters.

your chest heaves as he reveals his name to you.

it was his lucky charm and never betrayed him like everyone else did and it was the only one that he trusted.

“thousands of hybrids had bled on it you know? and now…”

he slipped the muzzle of his gun along your drenched slit, parting the swollen lips through your panties until the very tip rested against your entrance making you squirm.

“.. now im rubbing your little clit like it’s a toy with it.”

a shiver goes down your spine at his words as he leaned in until his scar scraped against yours and you let out a shaky breath at the touch he was giving you in a way the gun between your legs could never give but you were selfish so you wanted both him and his gun.

both.

his breath hits your ear as both of you simply breathe each other in as his gun pauses. his free hand comes up to cradle the back of your skull, fingers threading through the base of your bunny ears stroking tenderly. before tightening into a fist that held your writhing body still. your mouth opened but no sound emerged except a keening sound. he pressed the gun harder against your clothed entrance, nudging it as if he wanted to fuck you through your panties if that was possible.

he pulled back enough to search your eyes taking in your dilated eyes and the way your bunny ears remained droopy in submission. your hips gave a helpless rock forward wanting to feel the gun against your clit and he didn't let you move further because he was already surging forward.

he pressed an open mouthed kiss against your collarbone, not your mouth of course even though he has been eyeing your lips like a man dying of thirst because he never kissed that was something he never gave to anyone. no one was worth it but looking at your luscious mouth was killing him so he took his fill by kissing all over your neck instead.

you could feel his hunger and rage in all his kisses as his hand tightened in your hair, holding you steady while the rest of him shook with the effort of restraint and you knew he still waited. waited for the word that would either save you both or end you. waited for you to say no that you never would because you both wanted each other the same.

you could also feel a tiny twig of the tree press against your back but the pain only sharpened every other sensation yoongi was emitting in you.

he gripped the back of your thighs and lifted you and walked as you clung onto him while he set you down on a clearing on the forest floor gently.

it took you a few disoriented seconds to realize that this was the same clearing where you came every few nights to be all alone and stargaze because the sky was so clear here and only you knew about this place. when you wanted to be alone or read or get lost in your thoughts, this was the place for you. so many memories are held in this place, so many of your tears were shed here from loneliness and from insecurity and now your own hunter brought you here to ruin you in this exact place.

the irony of it made you shudder because you never imagined even in your dreams this might happen. you dreamed of love, of finding a good man but you never asked for this, yet it felt like you were not alone for once in this place as if this place itself were waiting for yoongi. as if your prayers were answered.

“spread your legs for me.”

your legs fall open on their own at his command as he comes down at you balancing his weight on his hands beside your head, your eyes flutter at his delicious weight on top of you.

“soaking those little panties right through. can see the outline of your cunt from here bun... swollen.. dripping. bet if i pressed my thumb there you’d sob my name without even knowing it yet.” he growls.

you whimpered at his words, your head falling back against the leaves as his hand rested on your inner thigh. his hand was so calloused and hard from years of handling knives and god knows what, it felt so damn good against your soft skin. your skirt now fully bunced at your waist and your panties were revealed to his eyes, there was only a little source of light yet he could see you properly. the fabric of your panty was transparent, now clinging to your folds and you could feel your arousal slip through.

“ohh!”

a surprised noise left you as he cupped your pussy right through your panties and your hips twitched, the material wedged between your lips lewdly. he didn't press or rub, he just rested his palm there letting you feel how much larger his hand was and how easy it was for him to use his hands to end you and it turned you on further, your breasts heaved as you pressed your lips together, thighs shaking with the effort to not grind on his hand.

he still didn't let go of the pistol as he brought it against your throat, pressing against it and also staining your neck with the little arousal that was coating the barrel.

your tail gave a single spasm and yoongi noticed of course and his mouth curved up.

“open.” he husks.

he presses the gun right against your cheek and when you hesitated for a bit, he pressed it against your lips until you parted them, saliva already pooling beneath your tongue from everything he's doing. the fact that he was using his gun to do such lewd acts… and you were letting him do so and wanted more was so naughty. he fed you the muzzle slowly, letting you feel every bit of the cold steel as it slid past your lips until it reached your tongue.

“mm… mmph!”

you sputtered at the taste of it, the faint iron tang and probably gun oil as the weight of it settled against your tongue. he pushed a few more inches inside.

“that's it… atta girl.”

he watches you take it with dark eyes as saliva spills over the corner of your mouth dripping down your chin and throat. he pushed another careful inch deeper until it hit the back of your throat making you gag slightly and he paused it there.

“suck.” he commands roughly.

he looked down at your mouth with such interest and desperation as if you were about to suck his cock instead.

you stared up at him with wide glassy eyes and he knew you were new to this as one of his long fingers curled around the base of your right bunny ear, thumb rubbing slow. the pleasure was immediate and so sudden that it felt like electricity going down your spine and your hips jerked hard enough to grind yourself against the heel of his waiting palm that was still resting on your mound.

you let out a muffled noise around the barrel in your mouth and he groaned at your actions, his own cock jerked between his pants and he was fully hard now. you couldn’t help it as the more he touched your ears, you'd never been touched there so intimately and with such precision as his hands.

your mouth worked on its own, sucking at the barrel tentatively then harder when his thumb pressed more insistently against the tip of your ear which was the most sensitive, your tongue slid along the underside of the barrel. you were worshipping the item that was supposed to take your life and the thought made your pussy clench, drooling more on it. you could feel your wetness coat the crease of your thighs.

“good girl..” he rasped.

his finger swept across your cheek, collecting a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen.

“you wanna know how the last hybrid died on this?”

you shook your head but he just snickers and goes on.

“it was a wolf hybrid, a big bastard twice your size that still bled out in under a few seconds and here you are with your tongue working so well.”

you let out a gurgly sob around the gun as he pumped once more and then held it still watching your lips stretched around the steel.

“fear turns you on doesn't it, you naughty little bun huh?” he questions.

you struggled breathing through your nose as he gripped your thighs harder.

“if i pulled these panties aside right now, i'd find your cunt dripping down your ass.. begging for the same treatment. should i check? mhmm?” he hummed amused.

he loved seeing you choke as he thrusted the gun deeper as more tears streamed down your face, you struggled to focus on his words and the gun at the same time. your ears twitched against his hold as tears spilled over your mouth, making wet noises as he had the urge to make you cum just like this but he didn't wanna give it to you so easily. he got the entire night in hand and he wanted to take his sweet time.

the gun slid free from your mouth with a strand of saliva stretching between your swollen lips and the black muzzle before it finally snapped and landed on your chin. you felt shameless and so utterly used by him even though he hadn't touched you properly. he didn't wipe away the sticky mess, he let it stay and let you feel the degradation of it as you took deep shaky breaths.

he shifted his grip on the pistol, looking at the slick from you and he drew a line from between your clothed breasts to your nipples that you almost begged for him to take your clothes off but he didn't, he enjoyed the teasing.

“p-please—” you gasped.

“yeah? want more?”

you nod dumbly but he only clicks his tongue and doesn't give you the relief you want and presses the tip of the gun against your exposed stomach and he circles your belly button several times, noting how it made you arch your back perfectly from the ticklish yet pleased feeling.

“mm...”

he gathers a few droplets of sweat that have gathered there and continues its downward path. he went lower and lower until the barrel was once again placed against your clit. your thighs snapped shut at the sudden pressure but his hand clamped hard enough to stop you and keep your legs eagle spread. his hold wasn't hard enough to bruise but enough to remind you that he was the one in control here.

a whine left your mouth as you stared at him with parted lips at how strong and fast he was. always manhandling you so easily that it makes your pussy gush. he widened your thighs enough so far that the tendons along your inner thighs ached and your hips felt like they might dislocate. even your pussy lips spread beneath your panties, you've never been so exposed before while still fully clothed.

it felt so humiliating.

“keep. them. open.” he bites out each word as if disobedience angered him.

his hand pressed behind your knee, holding you splayed while his other hand kept the gun exactly where it was.

“let me feel how fucking soaked my gun is making you.”

“nghh... oh gosh.”

you panted and gripped onto the leaves behind you as he began to move the barrel slowly moving on top of your clit lazily. he rotated in a way that was back and forth across your nub until the friction almost felt painful. more of your slick welled up and yoongi spread it more with something close to religious focus as he looked at your panty clad pussy.

he had never been a patient man during sex, all he wanted to do was hook your panties to the side to take a good look at your pussy and pound you hard but he couldn't deny that he was absolutely enjoying the noises your dripping pussy made and your cute little pleased noises.

the little “ah... ahs” you made

he titled the muzzle downward once again until the very tip nudged against your entrance through the fabric causing your tiny panties to be wedged more nastily between your folds and when he pressed forward just a little, you felt the metal dig into your wetness, it felt like he was touching your pussy bare with it despite your panty being a barrier.

you let out a quiet sob, your legs trembling around his waist. he kept on doing it and you felt like you were going to die.

he pulled back. pressed again. pulled back.

the tiny thrusts that never breach never gave you what your cunt was crying for. you could only hear your pathetic noises and more tears streamed down your cheeks, your nails dug into the mud beside your head.

“please i-i can't—”

your voice gets interrupted with another moan as you can't take more of his teasing. you couldn't believe you were practically begging him to fuck you with his gun but you were mindless with need now, too overwhelmed to think about anything but what he's inflicting on your body.

he stills the gun instantly.

“please what?”

he leaned down until his mouth hovered beside your ear.

“please stop? or please shove it inside this tight hole and fuck you open?”

he was really curious tonight… he wanted to see how many inches of steel your tiny cunt can take before you break. he wondered if you'd beg for mercy or beg him for more. maybe both because you've been a dirty girl, you've begged for him and stayed even when he asked you to leave. you've been the first one to stay for him despite knowing what he could do to you and it unraveled him.

he looked down at your doe eyes and he felt his heart melt a little more, he would give you anything if you looked at him like that. maybe even his own bloody heart in his hands.

without warning, he hooked two fingers into the waistband of your panties and yanked them down your thighs in one rough motion. the fabric caught around one ankle dangling there and you gasped at being exposed so suddenly as the cold night air pressed there and your hips lifted off the ground. yoongi made a rough sound in his throat which was half growl and half chuckle.

“look at this cunt...”

he grew almost dizzy at the sight as his cock throbbed inside his pants insistently. he was dying… a slow death because of you.

all he wanted was to feel you and take a taste of you with his tongue but at first he wanted to finish what he was doing even though he could sit there and watch how how innocent and pretty every inch of you was and inspect you properly. he brought the muzzle back this time, pressing the rounded tip against your clenching entrance. he didn't push in. shyness and anticipation had you becoming a trembling mess as he simply lets you feel the shape while you can't even close your legs because of his grip.

he was about to do this dirty thing to you… he was about to fuck you with his gun.

your pussy clenched, coating the gun with more of your arousal. yoongi watched every drop with focused eyes watching the way your body opened and closed, greedy for something it had never known.

“i've never been careful you know?”

he said almost normally while the tip of his weapon was about to penetrate your most vulnerable place.

“you're making me fucking careful and it makes me angry.” he lets out a low growl.

you sobbed as a bit of the gun breached your hole and you breathed heavily.

“i-i'm sorry!” you didn't know what you were apologizing for, maybe because he said how angry it made him.

“no you're not sorry bun.”

he breathes out as he looks down at his gun. he withdraws once again from your entrance.

“nnn haggh.”

you let out a choked noise in impatience as he circled your clit with the now drenched muzzle gliding over your swollen bud until your thighs quaked uncontrollably. he went back to your entrance and gave you never more than an inch. each time he sank inside your slit just a bit, your bunny tail thrashed wildly against the dirt beneath you. the stretch it gave you was everything and yet it felt like torture for not getting enough and for not sinking in.

you never had a foreign object inside you like this before except your own fingers and it felt so big and different, you wanted more but also to escape from it.

he took his sweet time with you.

“look at me.”

his voice cut through your haze as your eyes found his in the dark.

“tell me to stop..” he said quietly as if it hurt to say that.

“one word, that's all it takes and i'm gonna let you.. you're gonna go back and pretend my gun never touched your dripping cunt.” he paused.

“say it.” he urged when you remained quiet.

fresh tears left you as you looked up at him, your bottom lip wobbling.

“n-no... don't l-leave me pleaseee.” you stammer.

your hand fisted his jacket. you knew you were crazy but he made you feel like never before. this high… this feeling of submission. it was everything and you wanted more. you knew he wanted you to come to your right senses but you were also very aware of what you were saying.

“are you sure?” he questioned with his brows peaked at the center as he clenched his jaw.

“y-yes...”

you didn't have to think twice. yoongi's smile unfurled slowly.

“that's what i thought.”

he then didn't waste time and pressed forward again but this time he held it there, letting you feel the stretch of it and finally.. finally he pushed another careful inch inside.

“oohh!”

you let out a loud moan as he feeds your pussy the gun. the metal felt hot inside you yet smooth because of the amount of juices you were producing. your walks suck it inside as though trying to draw the object further inside.

a sob left you as he went on as your fingers scrabbled on the damp forest floor, trying to grip onto something as your body jerked up but yoongi tightened his hold to hold you still. an animalistic noise left him at the sight of your cunt swallowing him... and he looked every bit of desperate because he wanted you to take his cock like this instead. he wondered how you'd be able to take his cock because it was so much bigger and you were crying already from just his gun.

his free hand held you in place so you couldn't impale yourself further on it.

“easy.” he growled.

you could feel the way his hands trembled showing exactly how much he was struggling to hold himself together as well.

“you're gonna hurt yourself trying to take what your pussy thinks it wants right now.”

apart from his slight amusement, he was being honest because he didn't want you hurting yourself while trying to take more inside you. he couldn't believe this, he didn't remember the last time he ever thought twice before hurting anyone and here he was being so pathetic.

he stayed perfectly still for a few seconds, waiting until your entrance relaxed around the barrel. only when you began to ease did he begin the slowest most torturous fuck imaginable, slowly thrusting it in and out. you whimpered deeply as each withdrawal left you empty only for him to reenter.

your mouth remained open in an ‘o’ while you gripped his jacket hard and he let you as you made mindless noises at the maddening feeling. your clit throbbed on top of the barrel as he angled the gun expertly exactly where you needed it the most with every upstroke.

“uhh... uggh.”

you squirmed against him.

“holy shit..” yoongi grumbles.

he wasn't even blinking as he stared at the sight between your spread legs, the way the black metal was glossy now and constantly disappearing inside your swollen pussy. he has always merely used his gun for killing but everything changed today and he wondered if he'll ever be able to use his gun for killings after today.

“you're taking it so well for a hybrid who was crying for her life twenty minutes ago.” he murmurs filthily.

you clench around his gun and let out a whiny sob.

“mhmm i wonder… none of your bunny friends ever got split open on a piece like this yeah? hmm tell me?”

his tongue comes out to wet his bottom lip while you're not even in a state to reply to him.

“mmhm too much!”

your head thrashed from side to side, your long ears slapping against your face as you let out incoherent words.

“i can't. i can't ahh—”

“you can baby, look at you being my good little bunny.” he encourages while his hand never stops thrusting the gun.

the praise and the way he called you “baby” has your back arching as his other hand rubbed your ass cheek almost lovingly and it makes you shudder. he leaned back slightly changing the angle of his gun so it pressed right against the front wall of your cunt right where you had the most sensitivity. you saw white beneath your eyelids as your legs kicked.

“fuck fuckk.. oh godd.”

curses slipped out of your mouth in a frenzy, you're not used to cursing at all but you couldn't help it.

“yeah?” he rasped.

“right there? this makes my girl go dumb for it?” he questions.

as he began to grind the barrel in circles, your nails started digging mud from the ground just like a rabbit would. yoongi's own chest heaved as his cock jerked inside his pants, a wet spot forming there from his precum with every passing second.

“yes... that's it goddamnit.” he groaned.

his hips uncontrollably gave a thrust, imagining fucking you exactly like his gun was fucking you. he wanted to break his gun with his own bare hands because it got to have you before him but it was his and everything that belonged to him belonged to you.

he felt like he would cum just from watching you like this. he wanted you to cum and make you cum a hundred times more, he can get off on the sight alone. he noticed the way your hips started to rock on the gun as well, your cries turning into screams and he knew you were close.

“gonna cum on it?”

“gonna soak my lucky charm that's supposed to kill things like you? go on.”

he gives you a few more hard thrusts and also along with that, he uses his thumb to flick at your clit causing dual stimulation.

“ahhh i'm—”

a broken scream leaves you as he rubbed harder and thrust faster.

“that's it… mm yeah... show me how a bunny cums when a hunter decides to fuck her with death instead of his cock.”

your whole body seized at his words, arching back so much that your tail stood upright before falling down suddenly. just then your orgasm hits and your mouth opens in an agonizing scream that ends in hiccups as your walls clamp down so hard around the barrel that it hurts while yoongi hisses as if you just gripped his cock. slick gushed down until it coated his hands too and even covered his initials in the gun fully as if you put your claim on it too. some even pooled while your entire body writhed.

he didn't pull the gun free immediately. instead he held it perfectly still, letting you ride out all the aftershocks watching your cunt clench on the gun repeatedly as your sobs end in quiet gasps. until your thighs finally fell open wider in exhaustion. only then when you were able to breathe again, did he begin to slowly ease the muzzle free.

he watched mesmerized as your entrance gapes for a bit, your juices still trucking out and then finally snapping shut while your clit still twitches. he felt bad almost but satisfaction mostly at the way he made you lose control. he didn't even have to ask you to know that this was the most intense orgasm you ever went through.

yoondi brought the dripping gun to his lips without hesitation as his tongue dragged along the barrel in one lick, his eyes falling shut with a loud groan at the taste of your cum and your saliva mixed together. his eyes opened to meet yours while he still licked around the gun, sucking every bit of your liquids away.

you watched with wide eyes as your thighs fell together now that he was no longer holding you open. your face turned against your hand as you bit onto your finger because of what he was doing.

it was so forbidden yet so erotic especially at the way he was looking at you while doing it.

“sweetest thing i ever tasted...”

he was terrified at the way your taste was unraveling him, it was like a drug but the best kind and the kind that he could never find anywhere else and he wasn't going to let you go till he had his fill.

you pant against the dirt as he hovers above you, settling the gun aside that he cleaned thoroughly with his tongue and letting you recover from your orgasm. his knee rested against your inner thigh as the palm beside your head flexed from him holding himself back. his eyes were focused intently on your used hole, still releasing slick and he couldn't help himself and brought two fingers down to go part your folds until your clit and slit were exposed directly. his jaw clenched as he saw a single bead of arousal well at your entrance and slid down while you squirmed.

“goshh...”

he takes one dark look at you and your body almost freezes on its own. the way he was looking at you without exactly touching you like earlier felt too intense and made you feel exposed… the embarrassment was there.

he didn't touch your clit.. not yet. he simply held you open as his head came down, breathing over your mound and your hips twitched with a moan. then he leaned away and grabbed your panties that were still hanging off one ankle because he was too impatient to take them off you fully, his nose brushed against the fabric and he inhaled deeply. he lets out a rumble at the smell of your sweet arousal as if he could pull your scent straight into his bloodstream to keep it with him forever.

you watched him do that with red cheeks and a parted mouth. you paused as somewhere you heard a noise somewhere deep in the forest. your heart shook at the thought of someone or any of your hybrid kind probably seeing you like this with your legs splayed like an offering with your human hunter whose face was buried against your cunt. it would be a shame and disgrace especially because hybrids didn't mingle with humans and hated them.

instead of that your pussy fluttered at the humiliating feeling even if you came minutes earlier, you were needy once again. you knew it was wrong but the thought of being in a public setting like this, the fear of getting caught only turned you on further. but you knew with everything that as long as yoongi was here, no one could hurt you.

not even your own kind.

“you're fucking dripping through everything..” he rasped.

“ever after cumming so hard you blacked out on my gun yet this cunt wants more doesn't it?”

he suddenly dragged his tongue from your clit all the way downward. it caught you off guard that your hips lifted off the ground and a loud cry left your mouth.

“n-no! i'm n-not.. i didn't mean to...” you sputtered out in urgency to his words.

“don't do this, it's dirty nghh.”

you moved away from his tongue because you weren't used to this at all, he was putting his mouth on your most sensitive place and you being inexperienced made it overwhelming. it was dirty but he looked at you angrily, yanking your hips closer to his mouth.

“stay still.” he growls.

“orelse i'll make you cum just like this with you humping my mouth while i play with your tail until you cry, you got it?”

you sobbed at this threat as his fingers gripped your tail while his tongue pressed harder against your clit. your thighs locked around his head, trapping him between your legs while your tail thrashed in his fist unable to take it anymore.

“p-please not there..” you gasp as he plays with the tip of your tail.

“it's too sensitive ahh—”

he paused for a bit and looked at you with his dark eyes.

“tell me...”

he ordered his thumb lightly brushing over your clit and you whined.

“who owns this cunt right now bun?”

“you!” you croaked out unable to talk properly.

“you s-sir. please mmh...”

the honorific slipped out in the heat of the moment and you hadn't even registered saying it until you saw how his nostrils flared in approval. he looked like he just wanted to eat you up and ruin you.

maybe all of it together.

he pressed his thumb harder against your clit while his other hand resumed its tugs on your tail.

“that's right.” he murmurs dangerously.

“and i'm nowhere near done with you yet.”

his hand reached forward for the gun that was still warm from being inside you.

“fucking hell...” he sighs.

he didn't rush, instead he positioned you in a way that exposed your tail completely and he couldn't help but caress the base of it and the feeling was so strong it went straight to your clit then he started small tugs and your hips bucked hard off the ground, ass lifting completely as your pussy clenched causing a few more droplets of your arousal to escape.

it felt too much at once and too good.

“they really weren't lying.”

he observes almost to himself as he watches your puffy white little tail and your reactions to it.

“bunny tails might as well be little clits huh?”

he was having too much fun playing with you and experimenting with your body. he finished his words with another longer tug.

“oh g-godd..” you huffed.

you fought the urge to squeeze your thighs shut again to protect your tail but he simply pressed his knee harder in response keeping you open. you couldn't reply, the feeling was too overloaded. every tiny pull he gave was almost painful but you wanted more.

he began tracing circles over your fur with the pad of his thumb, changing pressure to his liking never letting you settle into any one sensation. your mouth fell open on gasps, new tears welled in your eyes as he kept his eyes locked on your face, watching the way your brows pinched together as you concentrated on his hand.

“sensitive little thing aren't you?” he breathes.

he didn't forget about the gun still in his hand which he lifted and pressed it against your inner thigh and you squeaked, thinking he might penetrate you with it once again but what he does next is so much worse. he dragged it slowly until it pressed right beneath the base of your tail and you sucked in a panicked breath.

“oh shit—oh shitt—!”

you couldn't remain quiet as you felt the hardness of the gun metal against your tail. you've always avoided wearing any rough clothing because of how sensitive your tail was, always choosing satin or cotton, so feeling something so hard was almost devastating.

“shhh.” he soothes you.

his free hand stroked your trembling thigh.

“gonna be real careful with you..”

the safety of his words made you relax a bit as his hand came down pressing against your wrist which seemed to comfort you. he then nudged the barrel upward to the very tip of your tail and began tracing the entire length of it.

“nnn… nnn… ahhh…”

you bite your lower lip.

“that feels good bun?”

he enjoys playing with your little tail while your pussy is still twitching from cumming all over it earlier and he rotates the barrel in a circle pressing just a bit harder at the front of it.

“i asked you a question bun.”

he reminds you by pressing his gun hard against your tail in a form of punishment.

“y-yes—”

your voice cracks in a hiccup.

“sirrr... y-yes.”

you let out a pleased noise as he followed the circling motion once again at the tip of your tail. it felt like he was playing with the most vulnerable spot of your clit.

“there she is.”

he pressed the gun harder against the underside of your tail where there was the biggest bundle of nerves and dragged it upward. it glided over the fur, pulling gently at the hairs as your toes curled while murmuring nonsense as you slowly adapted to his teasings. it wasn’t painful anymore but a slow building pleasure that had you gasping for breath.

“good girl.”

he praised you once again for how you're taking it like a champ as his fingers went back to your pussy, checking the new amount of liquids you’ve made.

“so damn messy you are.” he hums in awe.

his lips curve as he hears a noise of a distant owl singing in the night which adds so much to the horror scenario and he knows exactly how much you loved it even though you'd never admit to it. he knew you'd probably love having an audience.

“fuck you like that don’t you?”

he brought his mouth back on your slit, collecting your wetness in his tongue.

“ahh!”

your hips rocked toward his mouth with a cry as you chased more of his tongue.

“you like knowing you're exposed here so anyone could see you mhm?”

he licked another stripe up and lingered at your clit.

“anyone could hear those pathetic noises you're making.”

yoongi exhales like a bull ready to pounce on you.

“you want me to finger you baby?”

you whimper lowly as you look at him with your glistening eyes and you didn't even have to speak up for him to know what you wanted, those eyes were his weakness.

he pressed a fingertip against your entrance but he didn't push inside immediately. instead he slowly traced the slit, collecting your slickness and coating your entire pussy mound with it from top to bottom as if making a point until you're nastily coated everywhere. only when his own digit was thoroughly coated too did he slowly put enough pressure for your hips to jerk upward wanting more.

“don't tease mm ah… tease please..” you whined.

he breached you with the tip of his middle finger but instead switched to thumbing your nub instead.

“sir please!”

you choked out a sob shamelessly because you wanted to scream, having no dignity left as if you lived for pleasure only and that's all you wanted. he's reduced you into this.

he tilted his head wondering how much teasing and suffering would be the sweetest for you because he loved to have you begging for him. he plunged two fingers inside you without warning this time, curling immediately to press against the spongy place inside you.

“ah-nghmm hah fuuck!”

you let out a keening wail that escaped before you could swallow it. your thighs shook as he scissored you, feeling how tight you were and stretching you while his thumb never left your clit rolling it as well.

“should i stop or go faster huh? wanna cream all over my fingers don't you?”

his free hand found the base of your tail as well, pinching it between his fingers all while he kept plunging his fingers in and out and also working your clit. your head fell back as you murmured nonsense in the dirt at all the togetherness stimulation he was providing your body, it felt like you were growing dizzy and weak but the best kind of feeling.

where the high was building and building and you were about to tip over the edge. your entire body was burning and on fire from your hunter making you feel such things that you've never felt before.

“use your words bun and tell me what you need..” he demands gruffly.

“fasterr please—need.. need more, need you—”

you kept on letting out incoherent whimpers as he rewarded your obedience by putting a third finger inside you, stretching you wide enough that the pain slowly melts to overwhelming fullness.

“nn… uh… uh… ugh.”

noises you aren't able to even recognize and didn't know you were capable of producing left you. he fucked you deep again and again, curling his fingers and using the “come hither” motion and you started hiccupping and choking on your sobs.

squelch. squelch. squelch.

you heard the lewd noises your wet pussy and his fingers made as your slick dipped down, all while his other hand still continued his assault on your tail, stroking it almost as if he wanted to stroke and squeeze his cock the same but couldn't because he was focusing on making you feel good.

he watched the way your breasts bounced beneath your top and he couldn't take it anymore and ducked his head, latching onto one of your nipples through the spot. the fabric was nearly transparent now showing your bra beneath, your nipples poking through and his tongue dragged over it and sucked onto it even through the clothing it felt so intense and when he bites down next, it was just enough to send an ache mixed with pleasure that you broke.

back and forth he went, sucking and biting both nipples while you squirmed helplessly, you gripped a fistful of his hair and he groaned in approval at your touch. your heart was beating so hard that you felt like it would burst.

“such pretty tits.” he murmurs affectionately against your ribcage.

“even through your bra.. hard and swollen nipples you have? just begging to be milked yeah?”

he gives you another suckle, capturing the nipple between his teeth through the top and tugs gently and then harder, watching your face contort.

“i could make you cum just from playing with your tits couldn't i? no cock no fingers, just these sensitive cute nipples...” he husked.

you could only moan in response, not capable of producing any other words. he kept his fingers moving and you were close to another release, you knew it but most definitely he did by the way your thighs trembled hard and your eyes rolled at the back of your head. just then he abruptly pulled away, his fingers slipping free with a wet pop.

“ahhh no no whyyy?”

you let out a confused cry that was so wounded he felt bad almost but he has to do his thing. he was so hard that it hurt and he was sure he had blue balls. his hands moved to his belt as you could hear the metallic clink even as your eyes remained blurry from your tears of your edging.

he put the zipper down but didn't free himself fully, instead he just shoved his jeans a little down to reveal his black boxers. he palmed himself once through his jeans and his breath hitched, his head falling back as he squeezed hard, a sweat droplet running down his forehead.

“watch me.” he orders.

your wet eyes dropped at his hand as you watched the way his palm ground over his bulge. he was so big, bigger than any cock you've probably ever thought of in your dreams or your friends whispering in shy whispers about their mates. his teeth gritted as another droplet of precum left him and he was so heavy and big it looked like a rock beneath his boxers then he couldn't just have you helplessly looking at him while your pussy looked so neglected.

so he crawled forward again and settled between your thighs, pressing the entire hardness of his clothed cock flush against your bare cunt. you both let out a groan together at the feeling of it. you could feel the piercing he had with the metal ball as it pressed right against your clit. he lets out another growl at the feeling of your pussy and how hot yet wet you were.

“oh my g-goshhah.. mmmh sir...”

your nails dug into his arms hard enough that you were sure it left marks.

“feel that?” he grumbles.

he leaned down teeth grazing your neck.

“that's what you do to me. i've never been this fucking hard in my life… dammit.. i was close to cumming in my pants just from watching you.”

it hurts for him to hold back as another grind of his made his piercing drag right through you. you sobbed, struggling with his words and his humps against you. he hates how wet you are and how your pussy is dripping down his balls even through his boxers. he also hates how soft and breakable you are under his hands and how easily he can kill you or injure you but he's being careful and gentle.

“i hate you so much you know that?”

he leans down the side of your face and grabs your earlobe between his teeth before he growls directly into it angrily.

“but most of all i hate that i can't just kill you and always get away like i always do… because i want you so much.”

you both breathe shakily as you feel a thousand flutters in your stomach from his words even amidst all the sensations he was emitting in your body. he kept going on and on while your hips also worked until you both were dry humping each other as your feet dug into the dirt in ecstasy while he also twirled your tail around in his fingers while spreading your pussy lips with his bulge. you were in a high from pleasure and pain, your spine arched as you could take it anymore.

you wanted more and more. you couldn’t hold back.

“sir please, i'm gonna—going to cum pleaseee.”

you rush out breathlessly, your hips coming down to meet his motions as well but that’s when he suddenly went still. the sudden absence was worse than the friction and you whimpered, hips chasing his cock that had just abandoned you as a low chuckle left him from where you were still pressed flush to him.

“not yet.”

“i'm gonna eat this pussy proper first.”

before you could catch up to what he said, his massive hands were on you flipping your body until you were on all fours.

“s-sir?!”

you let out a whine but he didn’t reply, his palm pressing between your shoulders until your chest and face were down into the forest floor. your arms splayed forward uselessly grabbing at roots and leaves.

the position was pornographic because he yanked your ass high enough your knees spread, leaving both your holes completely exposed. he could now see how your rim was winking just beneath your bunny tail and he lets out a satisfied groan.

he knelt behind you and the fact that you couldn’t see him heightened everything. he grabbed both of your ass cheeks, spreading you open until you were more evenly spread as you let out a sharp gasp at the air brushing against your intimate parts. your face reddened even as your arousal leaked out and pooled on the leaves below as he took in both of your glistening holes.

“nng.. m-mmhp.”

you let out a sigh as you felt his breath fanning over your clit especially at the feeling when it hits your tight pucker that no one had ever touched, not even your own fingers. you shivered as his tongue followed this time with determination and no teasing, licking through the creamy mess of your slick scooping out more of your taste. he then continued upwards until he licked right over your rim.

“oh god nngh!”

you screamed into the dirt as your body bucked forward and he growled in response to your scream and your taste. he didn’t waste time to penetrate your pussy with the pointed tip of his tongue, fucking you with it while his thumbs pressed against your cheeks to keep you spread apart. you let out a wanton noise when he dragged that tongue higher and started circling around your asshole making it clench and flutter.

“p-please.. that feelss uh—”

your voice breaks and he pulls back to speak.

“it doesn’t feel good?” he gruffs cockily.

“it-it does… j-just differently!”

he lets out an approving noise as one thumb leaves your cheek to press against your puckered ring, rubbing slowly spreading your own slick there until you are no longer tense.

“you can take more, can't you sweet baby?”

you whimpered at his endearment and nodded nervously and he worked you with his thumb, coaching you slowly and when he believed you were ready enough, he let his thumb breach inside you just a little bit and held. at the same moment his tongue returned to your clit with renewed ferocity, sucking onto the entire bud into the heat of his mouth while his nose grinded against yours too and your hips rocked into him with sputters of noises leaving your drooling mouth. you loved the way his nose felt against you.

“gonna claim every fucking hole.”

he slurs against your pussy, sucking onto one of your folds and then the other one as well.

“gonna ruin you so thoroughly no hybrid will ever satisfy you again.”

he will leave you in a state where you'll only ever yearn for him, his cock, his mouth and his hands. you'll crawl back to him for the rest of your life begging for it but the worst part? he'd be so much worse than you because he'd already be waiting on his knees for you.

the thoughts and his promise turned you a little more crazy for him as his eyes fell onto your hanging boobs which looked almost like they were hurting. two wet patches formed on the places your nipples are hardened from his earlier suck. he wanted you naked for him, he couldn't stand you in clothes anymore and he could see how much they restricted you as well continuing to soak in your slick and sweat.

he wanted you bare before he gave you the actual prize so he rose slowly behind you, his hand coming up to wipe across his mouth smearing your release on his skin.

you struggled to breathe, letting out frustrated noises at the way he constantly edged you without letting you cum. he gathered you up turning you until both of your chests pressed together, as a slow crooked smile tugged at his mouth.

“enough of his half measured shit.” he mutters.

his fingers hooked into the waistband of your skirt first, giving it a tug.

“you're keeping too much hidden, i want all of you.”

your expression shifts to one of hesitance at his words as your hand instinctively flies to his wrist, gripping it with panic.

“wait no!” you gasped.

your thighs tried to close despite his knee still being wedged between them.

“don't... please. just leave it. you don't have to—”

he paused but didn't pull away as his eyes narrowed slightly, taking in the sudden tension in your body and the way it wasn't just from arousal and edging.

“why?” he questions.

you swallowed hard as tears prick your eyes for an entirely different reason, the familiar insecurity taking up your mind once again.

“because... i'm not… pretty like that.” you whispered.

your gaze dropped to the side, unable to meet his.

“my body's not… i've always hated the way i look without clothes. you've only seen parts of me, if you see everything and you might... you might not want me anymore just... this is enough right?”

you shakily refer to your exposed pussy, that's the only part of you open along with your legs and you thought that part should be enough already. the thought of being fully naked in front of him was making you self conscious and you've never been this open in front of anyone. one of the strong reasons why you believed you had no mate is because you weren't attractive though you don't tell that part to yoongi.

“please leave the rest on.” you plead.

yoongi went very still at your words and there was a bit of silence before he exhaled through his nose. you thought he might laugh at you or even mock you but instead he carefully pried your fingers from his wrist and instead of forcing anything even though he hadn't done anything to force you throughout the night, everything was done with your consent. he brought your hands up to his lips and pressed a surprisingly soft kiss at the back of your hand, doing the same to your other hand.

his own hands shook in yours because he'd never done this romantic bullshit or even came close to comforting someone but whatever he was doing came from the depths of his soul that seemed to cry seeing you feel so bad about yourself. your lips parted in a gasp at his actions as your skin tingled where he let you have the first kiss. he doesn't kiss on the lips but he could give you this at least.

“listen to me bunny.” he murmurs.

he shifted forward.

“i've hunted for years and i don't chase pretty. i chase what's mine and right now it's you.”

his free hand slides up your side under the hem of your top but slowly, giving you time to pause again if you truly meant it. his palm raced over the shape of your waist as he continued.

“you think i'd drag you out here, fuck you with my gun and play with this adorable tail like it's my new favorite? and then suddenly decide your tits or your belly or whatever the fuck you're hiding isn't good enough?”

he lets out a dark chuckle and his words have your toes curling in need.

“that's stupid you know?”

he leaned down until his forehead touched yours.

“i wanna see it all because i already know i'm going to love it because i've felt how soft you are here—”

his hand squeezed your waist.

“and here.”

his hand cupped one of your breasts making you whimper.

“and i've seen the way your body reacts when i touch you. that shit doesn't lie baby.”

you let out a quiet sob at his words, gripping his chest as your heart flutters. the way you were slowly getting more confident about yourself from the words of your hunter… as your grip on his wrist loosened granting him permission.

for the first time every bit of insecurity is leaving you and only desire is in its place.

he slowly pushed your top upward inch by inch exposing your stomach first. then he paused and pressed an open mouthed kiss right below your navel, tongue flicking out to taste your skin.

“see? already so perfect and mine.”

he continued upward dragging the fabric over your bra and your hand immediately went up to cover yourself but yoongi caught your wrists, pinning them above your head while the other worked the clasp of your bra.

“none of that shit.” he growls.

the bra loosened and he tugged it off along with your top, baring your breasts and upper body completely and he grumbles, taking you in like he's never seen something more precious before.

“fuckk.” he rasped against your cleavage.

“these are gonna look so pretty when they're marked up.”

he leaned down, taking your nipple inside his mouth with no barriers of clothing now as you both moan in relief while his hand finally shoved your skirt down your hips entirely, working it off your legs along with your panties that were stuck at your ankles taking them off fully. he left every bit of you exposed for the first time, all of you bare except the cross chain on your neck. when he pulled back to look at you fully up and down in all your beauty, his eyes were darker than ever with adoration and lust.

only raw possessiveness.

“look at you..”

he breathes tracing the shape of you from your breasts to your thighs like he is memorizing every little detail of your body.

“my perfect little bunny.”

you let out a quiet overwhelmed sound and ducked your head. he leaned down again, trailing kisses from between your breasts over your stomach nipping at the places you'd always been most insecure about. places that you never told him but he seemed to know from the way your body twitches a bit as if in an attempt to hide.

“you feel that?”

he asked grinding the hard line of his cock against your bare thigh, to let you feel exactly how hard he was and the immense amount of precum he was leaking. he was close to cumming in his boxers with no touch at all like a teenager just from seeing your naked body.

“that's what you do to me… not just your cunt but all of you.”

your bottom lip quivers at his words as you look him in the eye, intense passion in them and you wanna give him something too especially after feeling how much aching there was. how much he was holding back because of you.

“i wanna please you too…” you croaked out and he groaned at the way you said it so innocently.

“yeah?”

“you wanna see me?” he questions gruffly.

you nodded, biting your bottom lip and he let out a shaky breath from how it affected him too and stood in front of you as you kneeled before him.

“words y/n.”

“y-yes please...”

he looked down at you as his sweaty hair fell over his eyes but not enough to hide the predatory gleam there.

he took his shirt off first revealing his buff muscular and scarred body as well as the intricate tattoos that he had there, each one holding its meaning. his belt was already undone so he shoves his pants down along with his boxers in one go as if he couldn’t stand keeping himself restricted anymore. when his cock finally sprang free, slapping against his stomach before settling in all its thickness.

your mouth fell open as the breath got knocked out of your chest. it was longer than anything you'd ever imagined probably several inches or more and girthy enough that wrapping both your small hands around it seemed laughable. his veins throbbed, the head an angry red from how rock hard he was for hours and it was glistening at the tip from his pre cum.

but it was the piercing that made your eyes go even rounder in shock and your pussy pulse harder. a barbell was pierced through his frenulum with two small metal balls at either end and the piercing sat exactly where the underside of the head met the shaft. it looked both painful and indecently pleasurable. it made his already intimidating cock look even more monstrous as the entirety of him throbbed.

it looked violent.

like a weapon made to ruin you.

but your pussy seemed to like the sight way too much, releasing fresh slick and trickling down as if already lubricating your body on their own to be ready to take him this instant. despite the fear of how big he was that he might even rip you apart and you didn’t know how he'd fit.

a rumbling sound left yoongi at how frozen you were, the sound was more of a satisfied purr as he wrapped one large hand around his cock. he gave himself one stroke right in front of your face, letting you watch every detail the way the piercing shifted with the motion as a fresh bead of precum welled and he caught it with the pad of his thumb and smeared it down his length until his cock was glossy.

“you like what you see hmm?” he rasped.

“never seen a big cock before have you little one? not like this.”

he tilted his head as he smirked.

“you're like a bitch in heat.”

your heart races at his degradation, yet you want more as his hand comes down to cup your cheeks stroking your bottom lip. he could see that you're scared.. scared that he'd split your tiny cunt open on the forest floor and that you'd feel him in your throat.

maybe he will but not yet.

he wants to play some more.

your throat worked as you gulped, wondering what he'd do next but wanting to take him inside your mouth, you waited for his instructions obediently as your mouth watered. he stepped forward until the head of his cock brushed against your quivering bottom lip painting a stripe of his arousal there.

“open.” he ordered.

your lips parted with a small whimper, your tongue coming out in offering with no shame or shyness left in you. he lets out a snarl and feeds the tip inside your mouth slowly as his piercing slides flat against your tongue. you yelp at his taste, the salty and unmistakably male taste he had as your jaw ached instantly from the girth. your mouth stretched wide as you struggled to take even the first few inches of him.

“god yesss.” he hissed.

your eyes watered when he gave the smallest rock of his hips as tears spilled down your flushed cheeks immediately. he cupped the back of your head, tracing one of your bunny ears.

“just like that.. breathe through your nose bun… slow… yeah you're doing so well.”

he guided you slowly, knowing it was your first time as one of his hands braced against the tree for balance from the welcoming heat of your mouth. he thrust another inch inside you as you gagged slightly with a hum and the vibration shot straight to him, he growled his abs flexing.

“fuck... that sound. do it again! let me feel it.”

he pulled back just enough for you to drag in one desperate gasp through your nose before sliding back in deeper causing his piercing to hit the back of your throat.

“mmugh!”

you gagged and he groaned lowly at how deep in your throat he was currently.

“crying already huh? i'm barely inside your mouth, so pretty when you break for me… s-shitt...”

his voice cracks as you give him a sudden suck as he is already feral, wondering how you'd look and sound when your pussy finally takes his cock.

“we've got all night bun and i'm gonna teach you exactly how to please me like you've wanted.”

he wanted you to worship every bit of his cock. yoongi slips free from your mouth fully letting you breathe, understanding your need for it and he couldn't help but thrust his hips forward automatically while you let out a wet cough and inhale hard causing his dick to brush against your chin. your chest heaved as he gave you a few seconds, enough to gain your air again and then he slapped his cock against your cheek because he could do so and he enjoyed making a mess of everything. the wet slap caused his slick to land on your cheek, he does it harder causing your head to go slightly to the side.

“hands between your legs.”

he didn't even have to say it seriously but his tone carried the weight enough.

your fingers trembled because of his command and because he was telling you to touch yourself which felt so overwhelming suddenly because all this time he was the one who touched you throughout and you doing it yourself in front of him felt too much. your bottom was fully sticky with your arousal and your clit was also peeking shamelessly from beneath it's hood throbbing in time with your heartbeats. your hand hovered over your mound still unable to do it and unsure.

“don't make me ask twice bun... you know the consequences.”

he knew that you were holding back, that your body wanted it but years of your life and hiding even after everything that happened in the past few hours… you were still hesitant. you take a deep breath and bring your hand to your clit and the moment you touched your clit, you jolted as a gurgled moan left you and yoongi hummed.

“circle your clit. let me see exactly how a scared bunny plays with herself.”

“a-ahggh mmm!” you pant.

he guided the dripping head of his cock back to your parted lips.

“open your mouth wider this time. i'm gonna fuck your face while you touch yourself and if you stop even for a second, i stop too. understand?”

you nodded so frantically your bunny ears flopped forward. he didn't wait for more confirmation as he slid back inside faster this time and impatiently.

“u-unnngh.”

you let out a scrambled noise as the way your throat tries to spasm at the intrusion only seems to make him harder. one of his large hands came up to grip onto your hair and he started fucking your mouth slowly while you rubbed your clit. your entire body shuddered as drool poured from the corners of your stretched lips.

“ah... yeah… just like that.”

he wasn't a vocal man during sex but you turned him into putty in seconds.

he pinched one of your ears hard enough to make your hips jerk forward as your fingers faltered on your clit while his hips never stopped the slow fucks. each thrust of his caused you to gasp, never quite letting you settle as some of your drool even slid down and fell on your breasts. you suckle on his tip when you hear that his noises reach a pitch when you do that as his hands guide you to stroke and squeeze the rest of his cock that you can't take inside your mouth.

“don't stop.” he roars.

you don't stop content in making the big bad hunter almost lose himself because of his prey as he tugs your hair hard when you cup his balls that are tight and looks so full like he has so much to release as you fondle them. you couldn't help it, they intrigued you so you took your mouth off him as you took a big gasp of air and placed your mouth right against his ballsack, suckling onto it and playing with them as if they were pingpongs and he gripped his own hair at the sight.

he wanted to teach you a good damn lesson for being so perfect because this was your first time and you were already such a pro at giving him head. he had ideas and he was going to fulfill each and every one of them.

“please ahh...”

you croaked as your clit throbbed so hard that it hurt and even touching it made you ache because you've been edged so many times.

“huh?”

he jerked himself off right against your lips while letting out animal noises.

“please fuck your face harder and make yourself cum all over your own fingers while i use your throat like it's nothing but a hole?”

he didn't wait for your answer and pushed back inside your mouth and this time he didn't hold back but put the entire length of him inside your mouth even the few inches that you couldn't take before until your nose brushed against the hair at his base. you gagged hard, squirming as your nails dug into his thighs and you struggled to keep your eyes open from the tears escaping along with your snot, all the liquids mixing together. his gaze dropped at the puddle that had begun forming from your clenching entrance leaving the dirt and leaves soaked.

“tell me one thing bun...”

he thrust his hips knowing very well you couldn't speak a single word now and that was why he was having fun teasing you seeing how much his words were getting you off.

“i wonder how you'll face your hybrid friends after this. they'll smell you and know exactly how you let your own hunter use you. will they even accept you mhm?”

you sobbed around his cock as he brushed a tear away from your cheek, shifting his hips to keep himself deep enough to make speaking impossible. your hands slipped from your clit inching towards your entrance. from how empty you felt just wanting to get relief, touching your clit wasn't doing much of it.

“uh uh.” he tsked.

“don't you dare finger yourself.. touch your clit that's the only thing you'll get for being a naughty girl.”

you looked at him with red eyes, sputtering and crying but he didn't care. you deserved a good punishment for turning him into a weak man.

that's when both of his hands come up to engulf the base of both ears, holding them tight before he tugs them forward using the help of your ears to hold onto them and fuck your mouth as if your ears were nothing more than handles for him to use.

“ugh…h-hahh.”

your ears stood upright at the direct stimulation and pain and the way your sensitive ears were being held so hard. you started rubbing your clit fast feeling your approaching release, your nails brushing against the poor bud turning it swollen but you wanted to cum so bad that even the friction of your fingers felt too much. your noises seemed to please him immensely.

“eyes on me.” he grunts out when he realizes that your vision was growing spotty.

you blinked up at him with surrender and as your gaze locked onto his, he rewarded you with a single thrust as his piercing kept on scraping against your tongue almost like it was fighting against the way you were trying to take him in.

“that's rightt.” he groans.

“look at the man who's going to ruin every single one of your holes. look right here—”

his hand lifted to his own face, he was glaring and his lips parted in ecstasy along with his scary scar made you even wetter.

your fingers moved mindlessly as you pinched your clit too rhythmically using your own slick from your slit before dragging it back up again. your hips thrusted at your hand as with all your strength, you held yourself back from sliding your fingers in as you bobbed your head on his cock, your hips grinding against nothing. the pornographic sounds of his cock sliding in your mouth and your fingers working your pussy were unimaginable and loud.

anyone standing miles away could hear it.

slurp. slurp slurp.

that was all you could hear from your mouth working on him along with his low grunts each time your throat squeezed him like a glove. he fucked you with precision to never break you but driving deep enough to cause you to gag on every third or fourth thrust. each time your throat constricted, he would hold himself there for a long second long enough for you to be unable to breathe and push at his thighs before easing back enough for you to wheeze and inhale.

you were his own little playground.

your knees ached from pressing into the forest ground and your thighs trembled, you thought you'd fall right on your butt from your approaching orgasm.

“gonna cum already?”

his voice was suddenly even rougher. you couldn't answer him and he gave another brutal thrust.

“answer me when i ask you a question.”

he tugged sharply at your ears this time causing your eyes to roll back for a second before you managed to refocus on his face. you could only produce a broken whine, pathetically tonguing on the underside of his cock making his eyes squeeze shut. you pulled away from his cock enough to speak.

“y-yesss sir—”

the words came out mangled so close to his cock and out of breath but he seemed to understand them perfectly.

“please—i'm close—pleasee ah—”

he growls loudly, his adam's apple bobbing his own release near.

“then cum.”

he drives forward one final time until your nose is crushed against his hip once again and starts pounding into your mouth with all his might while his hand guides one of your hands back to his balls so you squeeze them too and he twitches inside your mouth.

“cum right fucking now and soak the ground for me pretty bun.”

his endearment and the pull of your ears and the way you pinched and held on to your clit threw you right off the roof, it felt mostly like that after so many denials. the orgasm made your whole body convulse as you let out a muffled scream around his cock as your thighs shook so hard your knees slid outward on the ground. your vision whites as huge spurts of your cum leave you spattering all over the ground while you sob and shudder.

yoongi pulls out from your mouth on his own, letting you deal with the aftershocks as your hand goes limp on your pussy. your forehead rests on his thigh as you let out hiccups. his hands left your ears and he cradled the back of your head gently, letting you recover even though his cock was still hard and pulsing and he didn't cum.

he knew how far to push you.

the sight of you like this, all wrecked and still trying to look up to him through wet lashes undid him but especially with the way you'd cum so much. he couldn’t take it. he knows he'd eaten that sweet pussy twice already but he wants to taste your release when you've made so much for him.. he can't let it go to waste.

his energy had doubled from not orgasming as a guttural wounded curse leaves him and before you can take a breath he moves. both his hands wrap around your thighs and in one backward haul, he presses you to the ground folding your body in half.

a surprised “oof” leaves you.

your knees are forced toward your ears until the stretch burns as your hips are lifted completely off the ground, leaving you so open like you’ve never been before. yoongi holds you in that obscene folded position taking in your leaking cunt and he leans forward and spits on it to make it even messier. the glob lands perfectly on your clit as you watch helplessly as his saliva slides between your folds before mixing with your cum.

“mhmm.”

he lets out an approving noise and dips his mouth on you in the next instant, slurping up all of your slick mixed with his spit creating such a heady taste that he grows even more feral. your hips snapped up to his mouth with a cry while he fed from you like a starving animal.

at this moment you struggle to realize who the animal exactly is here, you or him.

you let out quiet squeals as he cleans you thoroughly even your inner thighs and asshole where your arousal had fallen almost entirely marking you until every bit of you was covered in his spit.

“i can't i can't—it's too much hahh sirrr.”

you dragged out the last word from overstimulation at the way his tongue was invading you right after your orgasm but he held you, doted on you and didn't give up on lapping at you as he drank you down like he'd die if he stopped.

“sir sirr, please please.”

you chant again and again, you don’t even know what you're begging for anymore. maybe mercy or more.

after he had thoroughly cleaned your pussy with his mouth, he latched his lips around your clit and you let out a cry, nails digging into his scalp from the intense feeling because of the amount of touches your clit had gone through. his teeth grit from the way his cock literally hurts and mostly anger from how he wants to stay between your legs like this forever with your thighs covering his ears.

he wants to ruin you so thoroughly that no one can even think of touching you. a sick urge coils in his gut as he imagines dragging the tip of his knife on your waist and carving his initials there until his name permanently stays there for others to see.

just to mark. to warn.

to make sure every hybrid nose that turns into your direction knows that your scent is mixed with his, that he's scented you or whatever hybrid shit you guys had going on.

your body answers him before your mind can as you arch into him while your fingers burrow in his hair. each pull of his hair sends heat straight to his cock then he surges upward when he sees the vulnerable curve of your throat exposed, seeing that you have no mate mark on your neck which he's noticed before but now he's going to make sure of something. you don't deserve a bare throat but one with a mark so everyone knows you belong to him.

“wait—ahh.”

you let out a scream that ends in a sob when his teeth sink in without hesitation hard enough to scar permanently like hybrids usually does and the pain melts into pleasure when he uses his tongue immediately to soothe as your nails dig into the back of his neck claiming your own marks unknowingly too.

“stupid fucking hybrid tradition.” he mocks.

he makes a satisfied noise as he sees the mark bloom so prettily on your neck.

“your kind thinks one little bite means forever huh... but me?”

he lets out a laugh.

“i'm human. i don't need teeth to own you. i'll do it my way but if any fucker ever tries to put his teeth right here—”

his voice drops as the coldness of a murderer he has takes place in his face which makes you pause too in sheer fear.

“i'll rip his fucking throat out with my own hands and cover you with his blood.”

a shiver goes down your spine at how serious he was as if he were very close to doing just that.

your cunt clenches so hard that you feel so empty and he feels it because it is pressed against his thighs, he lets out a mean noise at how his words affect you because no one has ever claimed you like this, in this dangerous and consuming way and you couldn't get enough of it. his face is still dripping with your release where he'd cleaned you up and then he leans down until his lips brush the shell of your ear once again.

“you're mine.” he rasps.

“say it.”

and you knew he wouldn't move an inch until you gave him the word he'd been wanting to hear all night as you clung to his shoulder.

“yours...”

you let out in one breath.

“get over here. crawl to me.”

the command was more of a growl as if he wanted to reward you for your words and your heart thuds hard. your long ears frame your face from how they've fallen.

“show me what kind of animal you really are.”

you whimper at his words as you crawl towards him slowly as your breasts sway underneath you, your doe eyes wide from your actions are. your soaked folds slide slickly together making wet noises that add more to your shame. when you finally reach him, he doesn't wait as rough palms capture you and he pulls you down on his body until you're straddling him and he's beneath your body.

“ohh god!”

you let out a surprised squeak as the moment your dripping center makes contact with him both of you hiss. his bare cock nestles heavily along the entire length of your slit this time with no barriers in the way. your hips jerk forward at the feeling of his piercing against you that drags right on your cunt and your mind swims, struggling to catch up to the feeling because it feels so intense outside you and you wonder how it'd feel inside.

“that's itt.” he grows.

he watches the way your hips shift to grind against him. his hands slide to your ass and spread you open proper for him and he holds you there splayed, refusing to let you sink down. refusing to give you the stretch you're already sobbing for

“rub that pretty pussy all over me.”

he was so leaky that you couldn't hold yourself back as your hips started rolling being selfish and wanting more of his piercing to drag against you. your clit dragged over the piercing again and again and again until your thighs quaked.

“haah… haah…”

your nails dig into his chest. the position gave you the power to dominate but it was mostly him who was doing it. he didn't do anything, he just simply lay on the dirt, one hand behind his head watching every second of it with hooded eyes, his nostrils flaring as you fall apart on his cock just from some grinding.

“gonna fuck you damn hard baby.”

you squeal as his hips shoot up and guide you to slide up and down his cock without taking him in and you nod dumbly at how good everything feels.

“so good… ahh… don’t—don’t stopp…”

“never sweet girl, never.”

he notches himself at your entrance again when he realizes your movements are growing weaker, your body no longer able to exert too much after everything he's made you go through. his cock dips just a little on your entrance before retreating as he grinds instead along your folds, letting his piercing catch on your clenching hole a few times while you murmur nonsense. you're whining and whimpering on the empty night air for mercy as if the trees could help you.

he fisted his cock and dragged it over your slit making your lips part around him as each drag brought out more slick from you and it dripped on his cock.

“look at this greedy cunt.” he gruffs.

“already trying to suck my piercing inside and i haven't even opened you up yet.”

his thumb returned to your clit, rolling it between his fingers.

“more… more… pleasee more…”

a broken sound left you as he retreated his hand once again and you were reaching your limit. you didn't know how much longer you could withstand his teasing.

you just needed his cock and if you had to beg on your knees, you would.

yoongi smirked up at you, it looked almost demonic but his own features were tensed from everything. he pressed forward again until the tip of cock pressed against your slit, only letting you feel a little stretch before pulling away again leaving you gaping. tears welled instantly as you chased his cock that hovered out of reach.

“p-please want inside... i need you so bad s-sir...”

your voice was small as he gripped your hips.

“you think you deserve my cock after what you did to me tonight? after parading around in that tiny skirt, flashing those little panties making a killer forget how to breathe?”

he lets barely two inches of his cock slip inside you.

“ahh yes!”

your eyes squeezed shut as your toes curled hard against the ground and then he pulled out again, leaving your hands clawing at his chest hard enough to draw blood.

“i wanna hear you say what you want bun...” he demands.

“no no no please fuck me, fuck me please...”

the way you directly told him exactly what you wanted in your trembling voice undid him as for one second the sadist in him vanished and something raw took over in his face.

that's it. he's done enough.

“fine.” he snarled.

he grabs your hips and you gasp as he settles you on the ground beneath him once again as your thighs spread on their own to accommodate him between them.

“but you're taking every fucking inch and when i'm done, you're going to thank me for ruining this cunt.”

he didn't give you time to brace as all of the little restraint in him had left him and only the urge to take was there and you were to blame for it. with one long glide, he sank inside you.

“ahhnn!” you screamed out sharply at the sudden invasion of his thick cock inside you.

the piercing caught against your inner wall as your back bowed off the floor, your breasts crushed against his chest as he sank deeper and deeper until his hips kissed yours and every inch of him was inside you. you scratched against his back, sputtering out useless pleas as you felt your pussy take him when it had never taken anyone else before. his head dropped to your collarbone at the feeling of finally coming home inside you.

a feeling unlike anything

“oh fucking helll.” he groans.

he stayed buried to the hilt for a long time letting you adjust to the stretch and the feeling of his piercing even though he just wanted to dick you down quick but was being mindful for your sake while your cunt spasmed wildly against his length trying to pull him even deeper as if he wasn't just in your stomach from how big he was as you felt his balls rest against your ass.

“you okay bun?”

he questions pushing a sweaty strand of hair away from your face and you let out a hiccup as you breathe through the pain, focusing on the feel of him inside you and the way you both throbbed and pulsed together.

“y-y-yes…” you stammered out finally.

“just slow please.” you let out.

he nods, his eyes holding yours as he gives a tiny shift of his hip experimentally making you cry out but it is more from pleasure than pain. he began to move slowly and gently tracking all your reactions so he made sure it was enjoyable for you.

every withdrawal of his cock felt like torture as he dragged it through your walls and it was the piercing that heightened every sensation into too much until you couldn't take it. his piercing felt like something sharp dragging inside your most sensitive spots and you saw stars behind your gaze unable to keep yourself quiet. every reentry of his cock was followed by his hips gently moving forward, sometimes moving in figure eights or stilling when he believed it was too much for you while his base battered your clit in perfect tandem.

he fucked you like he was memorizing every bit of your cunt like he intended to carve his shape into you permanently.

he never sped up just kept the slow pace, letting your pleasure build slowly and his entire body shook with the effort.

“like that?”

he hums in your ears.

“when my piercing grinds right there?”

he rolls his hips so that his piercing drags right against your most sensitive spot inside you.

“oh shit—ooh shit—!”

your nails raked all over him as tears and drool spilled on you.

“ughh yeah... i love it when you curse baby.”

he shifted without warning angling your hips a little upwards so he'd be able to hit your pussy well, allowing him to sink impossibly further as you felt his head hit your cervix with every thrust. you wailed into his chest so loud that your throat ached.

“shh... you're doing so well… look at you taking me.”

he makes sure your clit gets stimulated by his pubic bone as he growls out loud when your pussy clamps hard around him as if to trap him inside or kill him, he doesn't know. you were so sensitive from the previous orgasms that you were close already.

“gonna cum, please uhh.”

“not so soon.”

he pulled out almost entirely until only his pierced head was still notched inside you while you thrashed beneath him.

“nooo yoongi p-pleaseee!” you whined.

he glares at the way his name spills from your lips in the heat of the moment and he closes his eyes shut, trying to control himself before opening them again.

“again. beg properly.”

“tell me who this little pussy belongs to. say my name loud enough the whole fucking forest hears.”

“you y-you! it's yours! yoongi it's yours. please please let me cum, please.”

you blabber everything that your mind was able to produce. he slammed in with brutal force from the way his name fell from your lips as you almost blacked out maybe but was reawakened from the way he fucked inside you.

“atta girl...” he praises

he leaned down kissing the tear tracks on your cheeks, his tongue coming out to taste them too as you sobbed against his cheek. you felt dizzy and utterly helpless in his arms as if your body didn't belong to you anymore and were completely in his spell.

he turned you around until you were on your stomach on all fours for him once again with his cock still inside you. he pressed you against the dirt as both of you panted like wild animals in the middle of mating. you sobbed as your breasts pressed against the dirt and leaves there while your pussy clenched around him and your asshole trembled right on top as well from the little attention it got.

“stay on your knees baby. be a good girl for me.”

you scrambled, gripping onto fistfuls of leaves as you waited for him to do his thing with a racing heart while your clit twitched. your bunny tail quivering for him too. yoongi released a long guttural noise taking in the way your pussy looks hugged around his cock and the sight was something he could never get over.

“perfect” was too small of a word to describe it, it went beyond the word like a masterpiece made from filth. he couldn't help as his palm came down to spank your right ass cheek hard as white hot fire went through you so that your body lurched forward.

“ungghh.”

a yell leaves you before you can stop it almost trying to escape him again but he yanked you roughly into position, a huff leaving him as he saw the way his pink handprint started on your ass cheek adding more to the already pretty sight.

“stay don't run.” he orders.

the second slap on the other ass cheek landed causing your butt to jiggle and he didn't waste time before he landed another slap on your flesh which was already turning red.

“aaaaaaaaahhhhhh…”

his lips curve at your cries.

“this is where prey belongs.” he says with amusement.

“ass up, face down and crying for cock.”

he shifted behind you then fisted your hair and he pulled your head back until the teeth mark on your throat was exposed as well.

“you love this huh? getting pounded by a human cock?”

he landed another slap but this time right on your exposed and swollen clit.

“nooo.”

a wail leaves you.

“answer me!” he demanded.

“y-yes sir please, it hurts. i can't anymore.”

“that's right.”

he brushed the head of his cock on your fluttering entrance once again, smearing your own release on him before he slammed inside you again burying every inch of him. this time his piercing catches perfectly on your g-spot as he bends one of his thighs to fuck you smoothly. he began to fuck you like an animal.

hard, fast and merciless.

thrust. thrust. thrust. thrust.

that's all you heard along with the loud slapping obscene noises and your cries in your already ringing ears.

“uhn… uhn… uhn… uhn… hah gagggh.”

that was all you were capable of producing from your mouth.. sharp “ahs” and “ohs” leaving you with each forward motion of his hips while his balls slapped against your clit loudly.

“shittt fuck fuck.”

he lets out a string of curses as he grips your hair harder, forcing your body to stay locked in that perfect arch that lets him bottom out over and over until you feel like you are split open.

“take it.” he roars, his teeth grazing the skin at your back.

“take everything like the slutty bun you are.”

your whole lower body burned and throbbed as you let out noises, unable to speak properly as you choked on your own tears and saliva. he yanked your hair harder.

“you're gonna squirt for me.” he ordered.

“soak me while i breed this cunt.”

his free hand snakes around your clit, fingers finding your clit as he rubs hard circles while he watches his cock disappear inside your cunt again and again swallowing him whole. at the same time his thumb pressed firmly against your asshole, penetrating just a bit of his thumb causing your body to jerk up with overwhelmed spasms.

“yoongi!” you screamed primarily.

he started thumbing your ass in time with his pounds, drawing everything out while the other hand left your hand to smother your clit and you broke, you knew you'd never be the same again and he's completely changed you.

you'd never be whole again.

he hasn't just invaded your body but your heart too… your very soul.

your entire being seemed to scream for it as you squirted so hard that you flopped forward on the ground, your teeth biting onto the dirt not caring that it got inside your mouth. slick sprayed him so hard that it coated all over his abs while your tail thrashed but yoongi didn't slow or stop as he fucked you through the orgasm harder and faster, chasing his own end now.

“shitt yes fuckkk, milk me.. such a good cumslut.”

he blabbered, his voice getting interrupted with his own loud groans. with one last hard thrust where he hits your bruised g-spot hard enough to knock the breath from your chest, he cums too. you felt spurts and spurts of him land inside you, coating your walls fully until it started to leak while you clenched weakly from the overstimulation that brought out more of his white mess. he pulls out a bit causing more to land on your butt and your bunny tail.

“yeah...”

he groaned lowly as he pumped himself through the aftershocks until every last drop was spent and fell on you but he wasn't finished, not even close as with a heaving chest he looks at the way your pussy gapes and his cum leaks out.

and he didn't want that.

“ugh... ngh...”

still half hard and still leaking, he pushed back into your extremely oversensitive cunt with a slow slide groaning at the heat that immediately welcomed him once again. he felt cold and incomplete without you, if he were to die right now inside you like this, he'd die a happy man.

he fucked his own cum back into you with rolls of his hips until he made sure your insides were coated thoroughly and he stopped only when he was satisfied and had his fill.

until he made sure you didn't understand where he started and where you ended.

both internally and externally.

you both were in it deep, none of you realizing that there was a watcher..

that didn’t move, didn’t breathe too loudly as it simply observed..

somewhere far…

maybe it was imagination. maybe it was not.

consequences yet to come.

he stayed locked inside yours as he collapsed and no longer able to hold himself back, both your foreheads pressed together. he braced himself on one forearm beside your head, the other coming up to cup your jaw as you breathed hard trying to catch yourself.

your lips were red and swollen from how hard you'd bitten them to stifle your screams when he fucked you as his thumb brushed over them as if tending to the pain then he leaned down and kissed over the mark he left on your throat before breathing in and out, both your hearts pounding together and pressed.

he licked over the mark slightly, making you whimper and squirm but he knew you had taken a lot tonight so he didn’t push you further. he gathered you against his chest in one motion, rolling so that he lay on his back with you draped across him like a blanket with one of his arms locked around your waist. his hand goes up to pet your ears this time to comfort you and you let out a quiet purr between your gasps for breath.

“i've got you baby.”

he murmured nonsense against your hair.

the air smelled of sex, sweat and both of you combined together, it was one of the most sensual yet intimate scents to him.

“breathe little one, just breathe for me yeah? … in and out … follow me.”

he lifted your chin so your eyes focused on his face as he guided you to breathe in and out for him. another loud hiccup left you pussy clenching on him and he let out a sharp gasp, gripping your ass to still you.

you were too gone and sensitive for more but he was still hard. you could feel it. you knew he could go for a few more rounds if he wanted but he wouldn’t do that for your sake. he knows your body has reached the limit now so he just lets you keep him warm inside you.

your eyes closed as your head lolled on his chest, suddenly feeling so sleepy and exhausted as his dark eyes roamed over your face. you were a mess but a beautiful mess he couldn’t get enough of, with tears and snot all over your red face and dirt everywhere on your hair too, along with some leaves stuck there.

“how are you feeling bun?”

you tried to form words, anything coherent but only managed a broken sound from your ruined throat. speaking hurt because of how hard you were screaming minutes ago which yoongi understood as he kept on watching you mesmerized. his hand rubbed up and down your back as he thought about everything that happened and the euphoric feeling he'd felt.

sex had never been like this, it had been just a fleeting high but with you… it was everything. it wasn’t just a collision of bodies but also of emotions—the emotions that are making it hard for him to breathe. he never fucked someone more than once yet here he was… wishing to have you again. he can still feel your heartbeat around his cock even now. he wants to do it all over again just to hear you sob his name one more time.

he laid you down carefully, mindful of your bruised body and he didn’t wana pull out yet but he had to as he slowly slide out with a wet noise making you sob and clench onto him as if trying to pull him in again.

“shh…”

his hand rubbed your tummy once and then he stood, ignoring his hard cock before he grabbed the clothing you'd thrown nearby. he helped you wear your clothes gently, your bra first then your top, talking to you through it so he didn’t hurt you mistakenly and then made you wear the skirt.

you were shivering from the cool night air and the warmth he took away by moving his body and he didn’t like that so he grabbed his jacket and wrapped you in it. his jacket swallowed your tiny body completely as you clutched the edges of it desperately and gripped it around you.

he next gets dressed, tucking his throbbing cock with a grunt inside his pants. he ignores that for now. his gaze drifted lower catching on the ruined panties that were just beside you, fully drenched and streaked with forest dirt. he reached down slowly and grabbed it, looking at the way your sticky mess was still there where you'd soaked through it.

yoongi studied it like it was something special before he folded it into a neat square and tucked it into the pocket of his pants.

the gesture was so possessive.

he wanted to have one part of you with him when he left, at least he could take this as a memory of this night.

“souvenir.” he muttered.

“don't wanna forget tonight.”

his tone came out almost quiet like he struggled with the emotions and your breath caught, tears slipping free this time from sadness and he despised it. he didn’t want you shedding tears of sadness or pain, he liked you crying from pleasure only.

“hey..”

“none of that now. you're safe. i'm not—”

he broke off and ran his hand over his face with a shaky noise.

“i'm not gonna hurt you anymore tonight.”

you believed him. you did.

from the way he was cradling your face again, he was still hard inside his jeans but only cared about your comfort. maybe because the same man who had hunted you through the forest and took every inch of you and possessed you was... currently trying. you knew he wasn’t used to it but he was trying.

he wiped your running nose with the sleeve of his shirt while he murmured praises and rubbed your ears soothingly.

you knew he was a different man.

he had so much love in him that was kept somewhere deep in his chest that he didn’t believe he had because all he ever got was hurt and pain, lots of it. maybe he was the better man anyways because his hard life shaped his stone heart while you still looked for softness everywhere… which always ended up getting you hurt.

carefully you lifted one shaking hand as you hesitated for a bit and then brushed over the scar on his face and yoongi froze, his muscles locking. no one had ever dared to touch his scars and here you were with such soft and loving hands that his eyes fall shut for a second.

“does it hurt?” you whispered.

he swallowed hard enough that you saw the bob of his throat.

“not anymore.”

your fingers traced the full length of it slowly, feeling the way it ran deep and ended just below his eyes.

“how…?”

“just a hybrid big claws thought he could fight back when i came for him.”

a bitter laugh leaves him.

“he was wrong. i ended up discarding him after chopping his body in pieces.”

his eyes never left yours as he took in your expression, searching because still some part of him was trying to scare you away so that you'd understand it hadn't been too late and leave.

because he was evil.

and he waited and waited… but no revulsion came.

your thumb lingered at the deepest part of his scar.

“you’re proud of it.”

“yes.”

his voice drooped low.

“are you scared of it now?”

you shook your head immediately as a tear escaped your eyes.

“no i was… before when i first saw you.”

you gulped.

“but now… n-now it just looks like you.”

something cracked in him and his breath shakes as he turns his head, resting it against your palm, not being able to help himself and pressed a small kiss against it. he breathed you in, his forehead coming to rest down on yours, your noses pressing together as he breathed you like you were the only air left in the world. neither of you moved for a long time, just foreheads touching and hearts beating together, no space between both your bodies.

his lips twitched to kiss you but he didn't, he couldn’t. it was the only barrier left that if he crossed, he could never leave you.

he's a tainted man, his world is like a black hole and he cannot drag you into this and ruin you as well.

you were a flower and you are meant to be in a pure untainted garden where you'd bloom happily and beautifully. he'd just be a dark cloud of storm destroying you.

but for now he let himself take in the feeling of your skin one last time, rubbing your exposed thighs as he smoothed your skirt properly and he cupped your red ass cheeks that were still stinging from his spanks. your breath hitched, your pussy still gaping and fluttering weakly for him as his eyes flicked up to meet yours with something close to pain that he immediately shut away.

he adjusted his jacket on you properly so it covered you well and prevented you from getting cold also zipping it halfway up carefully. your body still hyper and humming from everything he had done to you, still reacted to even his tame touches. another droplet of his cum streams out of you and how could he not notice? he grunts but doesn't speak. he made sure you were fully covered, even picking the dirt and leaves from your hair and fixing it with such tenderness that you cooed against his chest.

he slowly stood up and you gasped when he suddenly lifted you up in bridal style effortlessly even after all the energy he just exerted. he pressed you perfectly against his chest, your tiny body cradled in his as your head settled on the hollow of his neck. your hand pressed against his heart where it pounded hard just for you as you took in the scent of him.

as a hybrid scent was important and very much noticeable to you and this time in the smell of his maleness and smoke, there was you and sex mixed together. your lips curved in a tiny smile as your arms wound around his neck, curling into the hairs at his nape clinging to him.

feeling safer than you’ve ever been in your life…

he exhaled against you and started walking but stopped suddenly as he bent a little without setting you down to grip your basket of flowers, gathering the flowers that had spilled to settle them back inside. he carried you bridal style with one arm, the other gripping your basket. he carried it without comment as if it were the most natural thing in the world. the sight felt like a punch in your chest. this man, this ruthless hunter who's known for killing and violence was cradling you like you were his along with your childish flower basket like it was something precious.

tears left you silently as you tried to stifle your sob against his chest that left anyway.

“stop crying.”

but there was no real bite in his words, it was more of a plea as if it hurt for him to see you cry.

“i'm sorry.” you sniffled.

“don't be.”

he resumed walking and then he was aware of where the hybrid homes resided because before hunting he always checks the map. he steps slowly, not hurrying at all because he doesn't want to leave you too soon as you watch his profile in silence. the way his jaw was clenched as he focused on his steps and his lips curled in restraint.

everything about him felt so larger than life yet so human in this moment.

“yoongi?”

you called out his name.

“hm?”

you felt his heart give a sudden thud at the way you whispered his name so freely now like he was meant to only hear it from your mouth, your nails curled on his shirt.

“will i... see you again?”

his stride faltered before he forced himself to continue, he didn’t speak for a few seconds.

“no.” he answered finally.

“you won't.”

his admission made your chest cave with hurt and uncertainty and he felt the shift immediately as his arm around your back flexed, holding you close as though he could shield you from the pain he himself had caused.

“i don't do this.” he admitted.

“i don't stay, i don't feel—”

he broke off with a humorless sound.

“whatever the fuck that i'm feeling in my chest right now is wrong.. dangerous even for both of us… you need to understand that.”

his teeth grind together as he couldn't look into your eyes, he'd break if he did.

“so i'm gonna walk away, go back to where i came from and you.”

he took in a deep breath and looked at you with hardened eyes that were so obviously fake.

“you're going to stay inside after dark like a good bunny. lock your doors, stay safe… and don't ever come out here again.”

your brows furrow as more tears spill now.

“but—”

“no.” he interrupted you.

“i'm not a good man bunny. i'm not safe. tonight was... fuck whatever it was, it ends here.”

his voice trembled but he had to stay strong for your sake, he doesn't wanna destroy your life. you weren't meant to be with him… even though it hurts and angers him to think about it. having the urge to kill someone but you deserved a gentle loving man, possibly a hybrid, someone from your world who could protect and adore you.

and it wouldn't be min yoongi.

you turned your face deeper in his throat and sobbed.

“you're not as bad as you think you are.”

you clutched him, praying to whatever gods were listening that he wouldn't leave you. that he stopped blaming himself. he barked out another bitter laugh at your words.

“you don't know me.”

“i know enough..” you breathe.

silence fell again as he continued walking, minutes passing like that until he stopped when he saw the faint glow of lights that appeared through the trees, signaling the houses nearly. he didn't set you down even then. he couldn't. instead he stopped and his lips found your forehead, pressing a kiss there then your temple, then the corner of your eye.

his lips catching each of your tears, like even those little droplets meant the world to him.

his breath fanned your lashes as you kept your eyes squeezed shut, little whimpers leaving you as you gripped his shirt so hard you might have just torn it a little.

“go home.” he murmurs against your cheek.

“be good... forget tonight… forget me.”

you shook your head frantically, the way his own voice cracked made you cry even more.

“no, i can't.” you choked out.

“you will.”

he pressed another hard kiss on top of your head lingering longer, his nose burying in your hair to memorize your scent.

“because if i ever see you out here again...”

“i won't be able to walk away and i'll ruin you worse than i already have so you need to go home. it's for your own betterment understand?”

you didn't reply to him, only sobbed quietly into his neck. he held you like that for a few more minutes, his own eyes growing glassy but he refused to acknowledge that.

min yoongi doesn't cry.

he doesn't break... then why does it hurt so damn much? why is leaving you here feeling like he's leaving a piece of his heart behind with you?

he unwillingly lowered you to your feet, keeping one arm around your waist to steady you before he pressed the basket in your shaking hands. he had to leave. if he waited one more minute, he'd give in.

he'd do something that would end badly for both of you. his hand cupped your cheek affectionately, catching a tear.

“you're the prettiest bun ever… and you're worth more than anything and never let anyone tell you otherwise yeah?”

you gasped at his words with a broken whimper as your bottom lip quivered.

“promise me.” he asks fiercely.

you nodded shakily.

“good girl.”

he breathes, his thumb brushing your cheek one last time before he lets his hand fall from you. your eyes widened reaching to grasp him, a cry already forming on your lips but he had already turned.

walking faster than he ever had, within seconds he disappeared into the darkness of trees as though he had never been anything more than a dream. you stood frozen clutching the basket to your chest. the only proof that he was real, that you've existed in an entirely different world with him was his jacket that enveloped you which still smelled so much like him and the way your pussy still ached, that even walking hurt and you were still leaking his cum.

he was gone. yet he was everywhere.

you lifted your hand pressing it against your forehead where he'd kissed you while your nose dug into his jacket, silently taking in his scent, still imagining his arms around you

that's when it happened.

it was so sudden you struggled to catch up to it as a sudden foreign scent invaded the air too close, too fast.

it wasn't of yoongi, no.

you realized that much as goosebumps erupted on your arms, your bunny ears stood upright. whatever scent it was it made you feel nauseous as your blood ran cold.

before you could turn or even scream, you felt pain on the back of your skull. it blinded you for a second as your vision instantly blurred, blood coating the side of your face. the basket tumbled once again on the ground as your world tilted, a weak scream leaving you as you felt a hand grab onto you which made you shriek back in disgust.

“yoongi—”

his name slipped out but darkness consumed your vision before anything.

your body gave up.

and this time he wasn't there to catch you fall.

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your boyfriend yoongi had been working for several hours on his laptop, finishing his latest track.

he sat on the big chair, all focused on the screen in front of him.

a half finished black coffee beside him that you'd brought him an hour ago.

his posture was relaxed but still in an intensely concentrated manner that always made your heart skip a beat.

he was wearing a hoodie only, his dark hair fell messily over his forehead and every so often he would absentmindedly push his new thin rectangular glasses up the bridge of his nose with his middle finger.

the gesture was so simple yet it made your legs squeeze together.

you had been curled up on the small couch in the corner of his studio for what felt like hours now, he brought that couch especially for you only so he could have you in his space while he works.

he doesn’t like having you away from him for even a second.

there was a forgotten book open on your lap as your eyes kept drifting away from the pages and towards him.

the way the glow from the monitors reflected on his glasses, his brows furrowing in focus which made his already cat like eyes sharper.

it made him look effortlessly authoritative and intelligent, also attractive in a way that made your cheeks turn pink.

he started wearing glasses a few weeks ago and you had openly admitted to him how much the glasses affected you.

“they look really good on you yoongi... like, so sexy.” you had confessed the first night.

he had simply smirked and adjusted them with one finger, no doubt feeling pride at the observation and his girl's approval.

“noted. i'll keep that in mind.”

and he had.

ever since whenever he slipped them on for work, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on anything else.

a need that didn’t go away with every passing minute you spent watching him.

the longer you sat there stealing glances the more your clit throbbed insistently, your nipples hardening under your tank top and you could feel your panties get soaked clinging to your folds.

you don’t like to wear much when you're at home anyways so you're just wearing a tiny black tank top with no bra and panties only.

yoongi preferred you like this.

you shifted on the couch, twirling a strand of your hair and read one single sentence several times in your book.

you’ve been trying to behave but you can't focus on anything else.

finally when you couldn’t hold back any longer, you stood up slowly feeling your stomach flutter from nervousness.

you walked to his desk and stood beside him, yoongi didn’t immediately turn his head away from the screen but you noticed the way he tilted his head and the slight curve of his lips that told you he had been very aware of you the entire time.

“yoongi…”

you called out but your voice came out more breathy than you intended as you took in his clean male scent.

“hmm?”

he responded as his free hand reached out instinctively, fingers brushing along the side of your bare thigh, stroking it making you shiver.

his voice was always so deep that sometimes that was all you needed to hear to get horny.

you could never get enough of his voice.

“what's up baby? you’ve been squirming over there for a while now.”

he was almost amused still typing something on his keyboard as if he could read every single dirty thought running through your mind without even needing to look at you fully.

you swallowed hard as your finger twisted the edge of your panty.

“i… i know you've been working for a while and i can't stop looking at you in those glasses.”

you let out in a rush shyly but don’t admit how crazy it has been driving you as you look at him with half lidded eyes.

a chuckle rumbled out of him as he spun his chair around to face you properly, one of his eyebrows arched.

he scanned your face and then went down taking in the way your curves are right there for him to stare at, barely clothed in anything.

“yeah? you really like them that much huh?”

he never thought you'd get this worked up from watching him work as he leaned back slightly in his chair, spreading his legs a little wider in invitation.

the silver rings on his fingers were visible to you as he rested one hand on his thigh.

“i do… a lot.” you whispered.

biting down on your lower lip as your pussy clenched emptily.

“you look so… dominant like this.”

his gaze darkened noticeably behind his glasses as the word “dominant” left your lips.

“such a good girl for admitting it...” he praised and you let out a shaky breath.

“since you're so distracted by my glasses and can't seem to sit still… maybe i should give you a much closer look and take care of you while i keep my glasses on, you like this idea?”

his other hand adjusted his glasses with that same middle finger push you loved so much and this time he did it almost cockily.

“yes..” you moaned softly.

“come here mama.”

he patted his thigh once with his palm gesturing to where he wants you without words.

you moved between his spread legs without a second thought but instead of simply sitting on his lap, you leaned down first capturing his lips for a quick kiss without being able to help yourself.

he deepens the kiss immediately as his hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, fingers curling into your hair possessively.

you mewled into his mouth as you tasted the coffee he had been sipping earlier along with the unique taste he always has as his tongue brushed against yours, your hands resting on his broad shoulders for balance.

“yoongi... your work—” you started, glancing at the open laptop.

when he finally pulled back just enough to speak, both of your breaths mingling together.

“work can wait a little while.. my baby needs my attention right now which is more important.” he lets out roughly.

he had no heart to ignore that pretty pussy which was calling for him.

he was aware of it.

he picks you up until your feet dangle above the ground making you gasp at the way he always manhandles you effortlessly, his hand between your armpits as he settles you over the very edge of his large desk.

your heart pounded at the feeling of your warm thighs settling over the wooden desk.

papers and a notebook shifted under your weight and the mouse slid a bit as your hip brushed against it but yoongi didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

he rolled his chair forward until he was positioned perfectly between your now spread things.

“spread your legs wider for me sweet girl, let me see you...”

you obeyed, your breathing already coming out faster in anticipation as you watched him hook his fingers into the waistband of your panties and slowly drag them down your legs before he tossed them carelessly aside onto the floor somewhere beside him.

“mmph.”

you let out a whimper as the studio air hits your now exposed cunt, your glistening folds visible to him.

“look at this pretty pussy.”

he murmured reverently with appreciation as he leaned in closer, his hot breath fanning over your mound making you pant in excitement.

“so fucking wet and swollen for me... you're dripping all over my desk already and i haven't even touched you properly mm?”

his filthy words made your cheeks turn redder as you nodded, unable to deny how desperately aroused you felt.

“yes... it's all because of you and those glasses.” you croaked out shamelessly.

no longer having the restraint to keep your feelings hidden.

“i've been aching for hours.”

a coy look takes place in his face as he starts leaving open mouthed kisses along your inner thigh, each one making your skin tingle also leaving remnants of his saliva as you writhe.

his free hand rested on your other thigh thumb rubbing teasing circles that inched ever closer to your center without quite reaching it while he kept his eyes on you, a grin on his lips from your reaction.

when his mouth hovered directly over your twitching clit that was so engorged it had escaped from its hood, he paused there just letting his breath brush against it.

knowing it makes you a little mad.

he could never get enough of having you in this state and all open for him so he always takes his time, having the privilege of being your man which he can never fully believe.

he's always thankful for having you so he never misses any opportunity to worship you.

“yoongi... please don't tease me too much.”

you begged as your hands gripped the edge of the desk tightly.

“shh i got you baby. i'm gonna take my time with this little pussy because you deserve it.”

he whispered against you and then without further warning, his tongue which has always been incredibly skilled since the beginning of your relationship like it has a mind of its own, knew how to move in the exact way to please you.

it knew you better than yourself.

he dragged a long stripe from your dripping entrance all the way up to your throbbing clit.

“uh—ahh fuck yoongi... that feels so good.” you cried out.

your head tilts back with parted lips and he hums in approval which travels straight to your core making your walls flutter around nothing.

“mhmm you taste so fucking perfect baby... so ready for my mouth always.”

he can never get enough of the amount of honey you produce for him, he holds your plump folds apart to see more dribbles of your creamy mess leaking one by one.

“shitt.” he cursed in a dreamy sign from the way your pussy responds to him.

his tongue explored every inch of you slowly, circling your clit with quick flicks and then capturing the bud between his lips before releasing it with a wet pop and flicking it with his tongue and then sucking again.

“oh god..” you whined.

he can probably spend an entire day playing with your clit with his tongue and fingers like it's a little button.

one of his hands slid upwards under your flimsy top to cup a breast and roll the hardened nipple between his fingers with just enough pressure to double the sensations for you.

“mm... ah...”

your moans grew louder not being able to stop yourself as one of your hands fisted his hair while your legs kept his head trapped between your thighs.

“keep making those pretty noises for me… yeah… let me hear exactly how much you love my tongue on you.”

your body responds automatically as your hips rock subtly against his face.

“uh… uh… uh… yoongi your tongue feels—”

your words get interrupted with a sequel as another particularly skillful flick of his tongue lands on your clit making your back arch almost entirely off the table.

he looks up at you never stopping his mouth, drinking in your expressions as the wet noises and your whimpers of satisfaction fill the room obscenely.

it was so erotic.

and suddenly everything felt hot from the way both of you started sweating.

yoongi continued focusing on your clit using the pointed top of his tongue for a more targeted stimulation, knowing how much you love it.

like the perfectionist he was, he changed his motions based on your reactions.

you fisted one of his work sheets, unknowingly crumbling it which he didn't mind because he started eating you out even faster.