#bcgnet

“So, I have talked to the kids. They are already packing for the trip this Saturday.” Yoongi muttered, while scratching the back of his head under his big blue beanie. Your eyes followed his movements, watching a slight bruise peek out of the dark sleeve. Your hand reaching out, not thinking before action of violating another human being. His brown eyes, that were once tired, were now open wide to watch your movements.

“What happened to you?” You questioned curiously, scrunching your brows in worry as you examined the deep indigo mark. His lips forming a mischievous smirk, before acting tough in front of you.

“It’s nothing serious, doesn’t even hurt” He responded, spitting a few hints of confidence between his lips. Your brow raised slightly, inspecting the character that he created to not let anyone walk on him. Your fingers brushing the bruise lightly, almost endurable as Yoongi’s smile faded and a flush of red formed on his cheeks. Your fingers continuing to breeze onto the soft skin, while your eyes continued to hold onto his. His gulps becoming visible, waiting for something he never expected. A forceful but yet soft enough, push onto the fresh bruise. His eyes shutting close and his arm retreating in the comfort of his other hands, soothing the sore skin you just violated.

“What the f-…. ARE YOU NUTS WOMAN??!” He spat, clenching his jaw of the pain that was caused by a single touch. Your arms folding over your chest, giving him the usual brow of speculation.

“You said it didn’t hurt” You mimicked his previous response, making his mouth gap of disbelief.

“WHEN YOU DON’T JUST RUDELY PUSH A GOD DAMN FINGER ON IT” He spat yet again, calming down by watching you grow a smile on your lips. His world stops, watching the pure clean teeth appear, while the creases around your eyes appearing when you squint. It was like, watching your past quarrel with each other whenever there was time for it, flash by. His tensed face, softened of the memories before settling back into the chair to relax.

“So… care to tell me what happened to you?” You questioned again, wanting to get a proper answer. His eyes adverting yours, to wander towards the open window that had a view of the sun setting. Even though it wasn’t late upon the day, during winter it already became dark in the late afternoon.

“We’re practising a new choreography, but I keep messing up.” He spoke honestly, making your eyes wide of the imagination of a bruise that large, appear due to practicing. Even though you felt proud of his honesty, you felt worried of the sudden thought of him being in pain and possibly the others too.

“What are you supposed to do in the choreography that cause you to get that kind of bruise?” You asked curiously, watching his face show exhaustion before sighing loudly.

“Remember Blood, sweat and tears? Similar to that, with the hand stand? But a little more… extreme if you will” He explained, making your skin cripple of the thought, that you had to learn that perfect slow-motion hand stand in less than 2 months. Your palms were red, sore and visible with swollen wrists. Imagining a harder performance and dance than that, made you feel sorry for them.

“why are you trying to damage your bodies like that? I thought that would be the last and NOT do something similar but still keep our style?” You spoke, watching his lip get sucked between his teeth to get nibbled on. His eyes returning to yours, watching your temper prickle on your shoulders.

“Because ever since we got this much recognition, we need to be better than previous. It’s not fair, to give people the same thing and we have to spice it up. We owe them a greater performance, each time we make a comeback.” He explained with a sudden foul tone, that didn’t help on your temper that grew between your bones. It wasn’t that he was angry at you, but angry at himself for knowing how bad of a decision it was. Your fingers picking at your sleeve, trying to understand the life of an idol again.

“I know, that you feel the need to be better. To make some kind of shock factor, but when does it stop? When your bodies fall apart? I bet fans would rather want to see you being healthy and well, than seeing those stunts that MIGHT break you eventually” You answered, remembering the pressure that you were under, especially as a female you had to do better and sometimes, do worse to not outshine the boys. But together, you had to be better at each dance and performance. It was hard to not break down in your room or the practice room, cursing your body for not getting the beat right, even harder when nothing worked out as expected. It was a never-ending loop, of forsaken discouragement and bodies falling to the floor.

“I know. We all know… but that’s just how it is.” Yoongi claimed, taking a deep breath before sipping the left of his americano. The sound of his exhausted tone, faltered by the second and your determination to continue went along with it.

“Promise me, you take care of yourselves?” You requested softly, sitting back to relax your muscles. His lips pursed to a line, before nodding slowly. “We do our best”.

Even though you could tell them every day, to take it slow and get an agreement in return, it didn’t mean they would do it. They always overworked, but that’s because they wanted to do their best. They see the faults, the tiny mistakes of anything that could be in a single expression during a move and try a thousand times more, to correct it. It didn’t matter how many times they would get told to lay off, they would still betray it and continue in the same speed or faster.

“So, I’ll text you the address soon. But give it a day, before coming because they need to settle down first.” Yoongi changed the subject, remarking that there were rules before you could enter the hide out. Even though, you had imagined it many times before, nothing could compare the real fear of meeting them face to face. Did you even have to prepare yourself, or let it happen like it did with Yoongi?

“Alright, but I need to prepare a few things first. You know… I have to be a bit more open about the whole thing with Jane” You explained, avoiding his gaze, realising you have never told him about the woman who knows about your troubles, more than you shared with him.

“Oh her, yeah. I get that.” He muttered, surprising you with his response. You were expecting some sort of disappointment, but he seemed rather relaxed knowing you had to be open about your troubles.

“You… what?” You stammered, confused of what else to say to this man. He wasn’t getting in your business like before, but were cool about it. He chuckled lightly, before sulking lightly. Normally he would pry, to know what was on your mind. But he knows by now, you need to come by yourself if he needs to know more.

“I kind of know about Jane and the whole thing, but not everything. So far, I’m just happy you have someone to talk to” He explained lightly, making your heart skip. Your chest feeling like it’s going to burst, getting a taste of satisfaction.

“but you know..” Yoongi continued, making you focus your attention on him, while his eyes adverted to the window while a tinted pink covered his cheekbones. “-You can always text me, even though I know it’s not easy when it has been this long. But, you should know you can always talk to me, text, call and do whatever. It’s okay to send me a text about nonsense... if you want, because I wouldn’t mind” He explained, making your heart beat harder by the second, hearing a slight confession come from him. It has been ages since communicating with him and the fear, of when to be an acceptable time to text him, were overflowing in your head. But it was like, he missed seeing texts from you, whether it was about a problem of simple dumb stuff. Yoongi missed hearing your voice, your humour and knowing he was still in your mind, wanting to send him a text. Even if it was the smallest thing, he wanted to hear from you.

“Okay… I will…” You muttered, seeing his body retreat from the table. His jacket zipped all the way up, feeling the plush warmth surround his body. 

“Alright… I have to go. I have a schedule to attend and get the others, before they wonder where I am. Text me later?” He requested, seeing your body follow suit to stand in front. The height difference being significant, before he nodded softly.

“Yeah, sure” You replied with a light smile, making an imaginary twinkle form in the corner of your eyes. The same type of smile, that Yoongi regretted not to appreciate more often. His feet dwelling on the hard ground, before seeking towards your body. Yoongi was usually not the hugging type of person and preferred a hand shake, because he felt uneasy about skinship. But when your chin matched along his collarbone and a pair of arms squeezed you tight. Something felt surreal, that he was hugging you before leaving. There were no words exchanged, than the gaze of a man that you once thought hated everything about you. But Yoongi tried to do his best, showing affection because he never knew, when he would lose you again without notice. In a matter of a few minutes, he was gone and in a car. His shadow dwelling in your soul, but realised how much you already missed being near him and knowing what their next move was. You missed them.You fished out your phone, calling Jane to ask for a time to talk. After all, you promised to keep her posted so she could report those further. Even though she was a busy lady, she always made time for you to come by. But she tries not to overwork and lose track of everyone that is under her wings because that’s when she lost you for the first time.

“Okay, I’ll be there in an hour or so. Take care” You finished the phone call, before going out in the cold air. The moon shining and the streetlights flaring, you inhaled the sweet scent of winter.

“What if I meet them? Would they accept it being real?” You questioned yourself, before walking towards the bus stop. How did Changkyun react to you, you wondered? His face lingering in your mind, before stepping into the bus and find a seat. The high schoolers on their way home, while you fished out your phone to text that friend, who seemed to the very first that found you by accident on a night stroll after practice.

The guilt nipped at you. You had never been late before, always leaving with plenty of time for the two-hour drive to the home near the beach you owned with your husband.

Unlike you, your guest had certainly put in his fair share of effort today, prepping you here and there with provocative texts and one ill-timed phone call, telling you explicitly exactly how little he thought of you and what he intended to do to show you. All things you desperately wanted to hear and see and feel.

Of course, you hadn’t meant to be so late. It wasn’t as though you didn’t know tonight was on your schedule. You so looked forward to it each month.

With the strain of your careers on each of you, you and your husband made sure to put effort into your marriage. You had regular date nights, never missed a birthday or an anniversary, and never spent more than a few days without having him between your legs one way or another. Although that had been much more often lately, as you had finally decided to try for your first baby. It had only been a month since you’d started trying, but you both wanted it to happen quickly, so you took any available time you could to make it happen, whether sandwiched between his conference calls or stretched out across late nights after your busy schedules had ended.

But it had been a year ago that your husband suggested you both take a day apart every month or so. And, because you both agreed that time apart was just as important as time together, those days you both went your separate ways, free to entertain your interests as you saw fit. The strict guest now waiting for you at your vacation home by the beach had become your choice of interest not long after.

And so you had been flipping through your tablet, searching up page after page, video after video on fertility when you lost track of time. A poor excuse you knew full well he wouldn't accept.

Ten was the definite start and here you were still speeding down the highway. True, it was late and you probably could have gotten away with a bit more speed, but just in case luck was not on your side, you didn't want to chance making him wait longer thanks to a ticket.

“I have no excuse, Master.”

“Then get here and accept your punishment.” The call ended without a chance for another word and you knew you were well and truly fucked.

Though it was only two hours away from the city, the house had served well as your slice away from the noise when you and your husband needed to a quick escape. But tonight you entertained a different kind of guest there. One who had his own key and was impatiently waiting for your arrival at this moment.

Fifteen minutes late, you pulled up into the drive, flipping off your headlights as the automatic ground lights lit the way towards the front door. Secluded and surrounded by swaying trees and mile high privacy gates, the home was a beautiful sight even in the moonlight. Just past the entrance began a path towards the back of the home, leading to a rear walkway that wound down to a private section of the beach where you and your husband had made many an obscene noise and romantic murmur together.

The pale light of the late evening sky reflected across the walls of the home, which were almost exclusively glass and served as a beautiful landscape to wake up to in the morning sun. You could also see the orange glow of the dim lighting inside. A fire slowly began building in your throat, though whether it was from dread or excitement, you weren’t sure.

You let yourself in the front door, immediately slipping out of your heels and glancing around for your guest’s location. The home had a beautiful, open floor plan, allowing the space to breathe through all the windows and giving you a clear view of much of the square footage.

You spotted him, perched comfortably on a barstool and leaning against the island just at the edge of the kitchen, taking one last swallow from his wine glass. Cabernet, you noted, tensing at his choice. It was definitely going to be a long night. He sat the glass down, turning his head toward you with a disinterested glance.

You hurried to his side, grabbing up the bottle of wine sitting on the counter and tipping it into his empty glass. He lifted an arm, taking an exaggerated look at the pricey watch on his wrist, before settling his heavy gaze on you.

His eyes pierced you before you even met them, dark and threatening behind the black mask that covered the top half of his face. Really, it barely covered him at all, masking his identity just enough to keep up the mystery, but still letting you appreciate the beauty of him.

He watched you pour quietly, the corners of his mouth downturned, pursing his lips into a disappointed pucker.

You had noticed his heavy, black, lace-up boots by the door, and took a moment, looking him over to take in what he wore: a simple white dress shirt, tucked into slim-fitting black slacks.

You sat the wine bottle back onto the counter where you’d found it, just near his black, leather suitcase.

You didn’t dare speak. You were never allowed to unless he asked you to and you had unintentionally broken enough rules for one day. Besides, he didn't look too angry at your tardiness, lips only pursed in his mild frown as they usually were.

He lifted the newly filled glass and took another sip, not bothering to look directly at you once he finally spoke.

“Does he know?” Always the same question, always the same answer.

You shook your head as practiced.

“Use your words.”

“No, Master. He doesn’t know I’m here with you.”

Your guest didn't have a name. You were only to call him Master or, on rare occasion, Daddy. The choice was at his discretion, though he was a little kinder to you when you when he chose the second. And at the moment you didn't know if you wanted kind tonight or not.

“Good girl.” He turned to you and placed his empty hand on your chin, fingers tilting your head up as he studied your face carefully. His thumb brushed across your bottom lip and the gesture startled you. It was almost loving, certainly not a feeling he had given you in the past. “I’ve missed you, princess.”

“I’ve missed you,” you said dreamily, wanting desperately to lean your face into his hand, but knowing better than to move without permission. Instead, you stared at him with longing, eyes falling to the plump of his lips.

But your relationship wasn’t such a romantic one. You knew better than to expect that he might caress you with the softness your husband would. That was expressly why you were here to begin with.

The rough pads of his fingertips slowly slipped to the skin of your throat, wide thumb pressing against your windpipe with just enough pressure to be uncomfortable.

“You were exactly seventeen minutes late.” His voice was tinged with darkness as if he held back the threat to tear you apart just behind the words. You shivered.“Tell me what happens when you’re late,” he ordered.

“I-” you choked out, wanting desperately to swallow, but his other fingers shifted, tightening around your throat. You watched the flames ignite in his eyes, the threat pushing itself forward.

“What. Happens.” His words burned to through the air, stinging against your skin. Your eyes had already begun to water.

“Punish.” You coughed, shuddering in his grasp. “Punishment.”

He pulled his hand away and you coughed again, hunching forward a little and pressing a hand to your chest. He merely looked you over with disinterest and took another sip of his wine.

“Ten licks,” he said, darting out his tongue to swipe across his wine-pinkened lips. You nodded, accepting your fate and lowering your head. But then his hand was at your chin again, tipping back your head. You sucked in a breath.

“Hm. You seem to be missing something.” He released you and gave you a subtle nod. Your hand flew to your throat and you cursed to yourself under your breath, remembering the little, jeweled collar he’d given you all those months ago that you’d left on your vanity in your last minute rush to leave the house.

“Twenty licks,” he said calmly, shoving aside his glass and slipping off the barstool where he sat. “How can you forget something so simple? You really are my stupid, little bitch, aren’t you?”

You nodded and he seemed to accept your nonverbal acquiescence, folding his hands behind his back and taking a casual step away from you.

“Let’s get on with it then, before you waste any more of my time,” he said, voice gentle even in its dismissal of you. “Take off your clothes. Leave the panties.”

One of your husband’s favorite things to do was undress you. He seemed to get an erotic high from peeling the layers of fabric from your body, running his hands across the skin as he unveiled it, like unwrapping a gift. It made you feel like a goddess, as though he worshipped your body with each inch that was revealed to him.

But your Master never did. He always made you take off your own clothes as if the act of undressing you was beneath him. He watched as you tugged off your top, and moved slowly past you as you unhooked yourself from your bra. It was more unnerving, having him watch you undress like this. Some part of it felt humiliating, stripping yourself bare, watching your clothes tumble down to the kitchen tile while he hovered somewhere behind you, fully clothed and watching you like you were nothing more than mild entertainment.

You rolled down your pants and kicked them aside. The urge to glance behind you, to seek him out came over you, but you didn’t dare. It was always best not to move unless he told you to.

You weren’t sure how long he made you stand there in your underwear, seconds bleeding into minutes. You wriggled your toes a little on the hard tile of the kitchen floor, waiting desperately for a command, any command. But only silence greeted you and it was so much worse. Was he even still there? Did he even care to see your naked body or had he gone off to find something more interesting to look at? You supposed that was the point. To make you doubt that he had any more interest in you than a side-table lamp.

A soft moan escaped your lips when you felt his fingers at the base of your neck, breath hitching as they slid up between the strands of your hair. His fingernails grazed your scalp and you almost melted on the spot, only now realizing how badly you had longed for his touch.

With an almost too gentle tug, he pulled your head to the side and you felt the warmth of his breath for a second before his lips connected with your skin, sending electric waves skittering across your body. Your lips parted as he kissed you, over and over against your neck, as he slid his tongue across your skin, as his teeth sunk ever so lightly into you. All the while, his fingers making satisfying strokes along your scalp.

You felt the chill of his watch, metal gliding across your arms, before settling against your chest as his free hand cupped the soft flesh of your left breast. You couldn’t keep yourself quiet, whimpers slipping from between your lips as he squeezed the skin, as he tenderly rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

And then his hand was moving, down across your stomach, leaving behind a prickling trail of excitement. His fingers lifted the band of your panties and slid just inside, rubbing circles onto the triangle of flesh just below.

Your breath caught the touch and you adjusted your feet, pressing yourself back against him, whimpering as his touch ghosted the triangle of skin at the apex of your thighs. He didn’t bother to lift his lips from the skin of your neck when finally spoke.

“Easy, girl.” His fingers slipped a bit lower, grazing just where your lips parted, but no further. “Such a horny, little slut I have. How eager you are for my touch already.” Another gentle bite into the tingling skin of your neck, now damp with his saliva. “The night has only just started.”

His fingers slid lower then, slipping between the folds of your pussy and making an agonizing drag across your clit, then past it to the wetness of your entrance below. He paused there and you heard him breathe out, knowing he was already smiling without needing to see his lips curl. “You must really be craving my attention. Have you been thinking about me today?”

“Yes, Master.”

“You want me to treat you like him, hm?” His fingers pulled back, just enough to slip across your clit once more. “You want me to make love to you and treat you like a queen? Hold you in my arms and tell you how much I love you?”

Another slow drag kept the words from leaving your throat. Unable to answer, moaning as he began making gentle tugs at your clit, and again as he slipped his fingers inside you.

“You won’t find that here, pet.” He exhaled against your skin, other hand slipping from your hair, roughly grabbing your opposite breast. “Here, you're only good for being used.”

His fingers pumped in and out of you, the palm of his hand caressing your nub and building speed, racing you towards a quick finish. It never surprised you, how fast he could have your body ready to cave in. But as the orgasm neared the end of its build just below your stomach, you did wonder why he wanted to take you there so quickly. Still, you felt unable to respond beyond soft, heated cries, only savoring the momentum as he pulled your body along whatever path he desired.

He chuckled at your whimpering moans. “You really will take whatever you can get. Look at you, ready to cum for my fingers after only a few minutes.”

His fingers slipped from within you, instead cupping against your mound, applying a squeezing pressure as he pulled you back towards him. You could feel the stiffness of him pressing against your ass, surely an intentional gesture.

“This is mine,” he growled into your ear, pressing his palm against the wet lips of you, shoving your hips back further against his hardness. “And I’ll treat it just like property. That’s all you are, understand?”

“Yes, Master,” you answered quickly, not at all surprised at the ragged breathlessness of your voice.

His hand released your breast, only to lay a stinging slap across the top of it. You took in a sharp breath at the pain.

“Say it.”

“I'm your property, Master.”

He hummed a low approval. “Good girl.”

His fingers resumed their work on your wetness, slipping back inside you. His tongue traced the edge of your ear, nibbling the shell as his fingers sped between your legs. You felt confused, unsure if he meant for you to give in to him or not. You weren’t going to last long with his fingers in you like this, caressing your walls so expertly.

“I can feel you clenching down on me, pet. You’re such an easy girl.” He sped more with his words and you felt the heat just beginning to spread, the walls holding back your release shuddering to open.

And then the fiery sensation was evaporating from your belly as he tugged his hand from within your panties, leaving you hanging on the precipice. You whined in frustration and he chuckled, instead bringing his wet hand to your throat, giving it a healthy squeeze.

“That’s the closest you’ll get to cumming for a while, do you understand me? Tonight isn’t about your pleasure. You only come here to let me use you, like the whore you are.”

You nodded your head again, dizzily trying to respond, to back away from the edge he’d dragged you towards.

His hands shoved you forward and, unprepared for the sudden movement, you fell to the floor, hands catching your fall onto the unforgiving, cold tiles.

“On your knees.”

You pushed yourself up and hurried to your knees, staring up at him from your new spot on the floor expectantly.

“Take off my belt,” he ordered in an almost bored voice, though the rise in his pants let you know he was likely anything but.

You nodded and crawled forward towards him, reaching up your hands for the thick strip of leather. But he was quick, smacking your hands away and huffing down at you in exasperation. “With your mouth, you stupid, little bitch.”

Your eyes fell to his belt again and you leaned yourself forward, hesitantly gripping the strap with your teeth. It took some tugging and maneuvering, but at last, you were able to undo the buckle and, leaning your body back, slid the belt from the loops of his pants.

“So you can use that thing for something,” he commented smugly, then turned away from you. “Come on,” he ordered, patting the side of his thigh. “Follow me.”

He walked towards the main living area beyond the kitchen and you hesitated for a moment before crawling after him, his belt dangling from your mouth. At least you felt grateful that the transition to the soft, creme-colored carpet was gentler on your knees as you walked on all fours.

He stopped in front of your sizeable, black, leather couch and stepped aside with a glance down at you. You made your way forward, stopping and sitting back on your heels next to him, looking up at him with your eyes wide. Taking him in, even with the thin, black mask covering half his face, you admired his features in the dim lighting of the room. From this angle, you could see the sharp curve of his jaw, the high point of his nose, and those pillowy, soft lips that you craved more than anything to come crashing into your own. But you shook your head, remembering that this wasn’t the time or place for those kinds of thoughts.

“Good little bitch,” he hummed, giving your head a gentle scratch. “Up onto the couch now, and face away from me.”

You did as ordered, pushing your body up with your hands to climb forward onto the buttery material. Your bare breasts sank into the pillows as you leaned forward, nipples still stiffened from his earlier teasing.

He tugged the belt from between your lips and left you again in silence, disappearing somewhere behind you for longer than you could count. You looked forward, trying to catch his reflection in the far glass wall, but it was useless. Only slightly swaying trees and darkness laid beyond.

You felt his fingers again, this time at your hips. He gripped the hem of your panties and made a slow tug, rolling them down your hips. You felt a cool rush of air as your wetness was bared.

He slid them to your knees and gave one of your inner thighs a gentle pat and you obeyed without words, spreading your legs to give him as much access as he wanted.

You could feel his warm breath on you as he blew against your core, shivering at the contact.

“Such a dirty little cunt,” he spoke, the vibrations of his words stroking your wetness and letting you know just how close he was. “Look how it drools for nothing.”

You felt one of his hands stroke across the cheek of your ass, the nail of his thumb dragging the lightest scratch over the skin. It only made the fire inside you roar again to life. Every touch, every little bit of contact he gave you was a gift to be savored. Despite how angry he professed to be with you tonight, he was being far more giving than he had before and you wanted to accept it as fully as you could.

“How long will you stay this way for me, hm? Do you want me to touch you here more?”

He slid a finger across your wetness at an agonizingly slow pace, starting at your swollen clit and pulling back until the tip of his finger danced at your drooling entrance.

“Yes, Master,” you whispered, wanting desperately to shove back your hips and slip his finger further into your folds.

You heard him chuckle again, this time much darker. He brushed more fingers across your slick a few more times and you leaned forward into the couch with each stroke. You closed your eyes, content to savor his touch.

“Selfish whore.”

And with those words, you felt his same fingers, now wet with your arousal, slipping across the skin of your raised ass. “You really are a princess, aren’t you? Only thinking about yourself. Well, that’s the habit I’m here to break you from.” There was a quiet pause, then the sound of him climbing to his feet.

The first slap with his folded belt was the most unexpected, the sting enhanced by your now wet skin. You cried out into the cushions, your body tensing at the pain now rushing through you.

You heard him drop back down to his knees, his hand gripping your stinging skin. “Look at you clenching, slut. Your body is practically begging me to hit you harder.” He let out a guttural groan and stroked his hand across your wetness again, this time rubbing it on your opposite cheek. Your body tensed in anticipation of the next swat and you would swear you heard him laugh before the belt came slapping against your skin again. It hurt more somehow.

He whipped again and again, but you lost count around the sixth or seventh slap, the welling heat and pain against your backside drowning out your desire to keep track.

There was a pause in his movements and you assumed he was watching you again, planning to wet your skin once more. You could feel your your pussy drooling, wetness slipping down the skin of your inner thighs, unable to separate between the pleasure and pain his strikes had left sizzling across your ass.

Then you heard something softly land on the carpet.

“Fuck, look how wet you are,” he breathed, dragging out his curse as his fingers slid inside you without resistance, past the knuckle until he could go no further. He ran them across the flesh inside and you moaned again, pussy tightening around his fingers without your permission. “You’re not supposed to enjoy your punishment this way, princess.”

This time he didn’t bother to smear your wetness against you. As his newly damp hand came slapping down onto your cheek, the pain returned, the soreness of the skin still enough to make you cry out again. He grabbed your thighs, pulling you back to the very edge of the couch. Your face was buried between the cushions, but if he cared he didn’t let on, his attention only focused on administering your punishment.

You saw him brace himself with his foot on the couch, using the leverage to deliver several sharper slaps to your rear. You cried out with each one, fully aware that the skin would be more bruised than it ever had by the next day. After what felt like the hundredth sting, you bit your lip, holding back your desire to spit out your safe word. You had only ever had to use it twice in your escapades and those had been much more severe experiments than a few slaps on the ass. You clenched your teeth and promised yourself you would bear it as he continued.

He released your thigh and you fell forward, knees almost slipping off the couch as you caught yourself with your hands.

You could hear the irregular breathing from his exertion as he pushed you forward, nudging up your hips so that your dripping mound would remain exposed.

“That was for being late and forgetting your collar, pet. Do you remember what your other punishment is for?”

You swallowed, trying to steady yourself as the dizzying pain slowly subsided. “For...for not calling you Master, but I swear I didn’t know it was you.” He had caught you off-guard, in the middle of work and it slipped your mind for only a moment. “I swear. I wasn’t ready, it was early-”

He didn’t use the same force as before in his next slap, he didn’t have to. As his hand swatted against your lower lips you jerked forward, thighs closing as you fell to your side on the couch. He had never hit you there before, the feeling new and exciting and uncomfortable all at the same time.

“Up.”

You shook your head to steady yourself and shifted your body back up onto your knees, presenting yourself for him once again.

“A good girl always knows her master. A good girl accepts her punishments. Tell me, Y/N, are you a good girl?”

You nodded, a few tears slipping from the corners of your eyes.

You yelped when his hand swatted at your pussy again, but you steeled yourself and remained upright.

“Y-yes. I’m a good girl, Master.”

His thumb stroked across the still stinging skin of your ass and you winced at the contact.

“You’re not, but I’ll give you a chance to prove yourself.” You heard his voice fading slightly as he headed back towards what you thought was the kitchen. “See, I know how much you love putting your hands on me.”

He was back at your side again, tugging one of your arms behind you with rough force. You felt a smooth bit of fabric slipping around your wrist, realizing that he must have gone to his suitcase to retrieve your pair of oft-used, leather handcuffs. Your other arm was pulled and tied in the same rough motion.

“So tonight, no hands.”

He heaved a heavy sigh and you could feel his eyes on you, on your behind, admiring his work. “On the floor then. A disobedient bitch doesn’t belong on the furniture.”

You began maneuvering your way onto the floor, trying to work out how to keep your balance as you inched backward with your hands bound. But your movements were too slow for him, a strong hand gripping your shoulder and pulling you back and off of the couch before shoving you down onto your knees.

“Take out my cock.”

You puckered your lips into a pout, staring forward at the impossible task of fishing out his cock with no hands. But if he noticed your distress, he said nothing, only standing in front of you with his hands on his hips, waiting for you to follow his orders.

You kicked away your panties from around your ankles and crawled closer to him. You managed to unzip his pants with your teeth, but try as you might, you couldn’t tug the rest of the fabric apart, couldn’t get enough of a grip to pull them down.

He sighed, hand gripping your chin before shoving you down onto the floor.

“Useless, useless mouth.” You looked up at him to find him undoing the pants himself, tugging them down along with his boxer-briefs and letting them drop to the floor at his feet.

“Come here. Up. Don’t make me do everything for you.”

It took some effort, as your heels brushed against your still stinging rear while you uprighted yourself and were greeted with the impressive sight of him. His cock bobbed in front of you just below the edge of his dress shirt, the skin of it a deepened pink and the swollen head glistening only slightly at the tip.

His hand was in your hair, but not gentle this time, using it to yank you forward towards his waist with a rough tug. “Open your mouth for me like a good little fucktoy.” You wanted to reach for him, to take him with your fingers and slowly guide his length into your mouth.

But without the use of your hands, that was impossible and it seemed he wanted it that way, fingers still wrapped up in your hair. You took a glance up at his face and he tilted his head slightly.

You sat up onto your knees and leaned forward, slipping your lips around the head of him, using your tongue to caress the tip and taste the bitter, saltiness of him.

His grip on you loosened as you danced around his cock with your tongue, as you slowly slid in more and more. A quick glance up and you doubled your efforts, spurred on by the way his lips parted, the widened pupils that stared down at you while you sucked him with abandon. He had started to moan once you reached the base, fingers tangling loosely in your hair as he breathed quiet, satisfied noises each time you slid from head to base.

His hand tightened again in your strands and you felt him stiffen a little, holding your head in place for a moment.

“That’s enough playing with your food,” he growled, voice honeyed and deeper than before. Part of you wanted to chance a smug smile at the effect you’d had on him. But he didn’t give you that opportunity. “Be a good cockslut for me and I’ll think about rewarding you.”

His hips were slamming forward against you then and you did your best to relax your throat as he took over, fucking your face with all the delicacy of a bull in a china shop. Unconcerned for your comfort, he held onto your hair like as if steering a horse while he thrust into your mouth with abandon.

His growling mounted, at first like a low burning fire within his chest, to the loose, ragged breaths that now spilled from his lips.

As his strokes continued, you were finding it more difficult to breathe. It felt as though you were choking around his cock, feeling the tightening in your chest as he blocked your airways over and over, no chance to take a breath between each thrust. You wanted to reach forward, to grab him and pull him away, but without your hands, you had nowhere to dig in your nails but the palms of your own hands as tears collected in your eyes.

“Stop struggling, pet,” he growled, pulling tighter on your hair as he sped his hips, ramming his cock at the back of your throat. “This is all your mouth is good for. You need to learn to relax and let me use you.”

But he pulled your head away abruptly moments later. You leaned forward, head hanging just in front of him and took deep gulps of air as drool dripped from your lips onto the floor around his bare feet.

“Mm, your mouth takes my cock so well,” he said in a satisfied purr. He was kneeling in front of you then, lips against your wet mouth in a sloppy kiss. His tongue found yours quickly, slipping against yours with a blazing passion that had you moaning into his mouth.

He parted from your lips, eyes locked onto yours with a heavy stare. Behind the mask, you could see the hunger in his deep, brown eyes, the energy of his desires penetrating you without words or movement. Beyond the soreness your body felt, the wetness between your legs, you felt the heat from his body, intense and almost overpowering even as you only stared in silence.

“I want to fuck you. Right now,” he growled and got to his feet, grabbing hold of one of your arms on the way up and pulling you to your feet with him.

His fingers dug into your skin as his urgent steps guided you both across the living room floor and towards the bedroom, separated from the main living area by a long, white wall. It gave the illusion of privacy. But you knew well that any noises made inside traveled easily throughout the home, as one set of your unlucky friends could testify.

He released you from his grip with a rough toss, throwing your body forward onto the soft, white sheets of your bed without grace. You groaned as you hit the surface, unfortunately landing on your still screaming backside.

“Ass up. Show me your dirty little pussy so I can decide how I want to take you.” The rough scratch of his voice grabbed at you somewhere deep inside, reminding you, even through the pain, of your deep desire to please him as much as you could.

You watched his hand go to his shirt, watched him unbutton it from the top and slip it off to finally make him as bare as you. The urge to obey his orders faded as you took in his body in the low light of the bedroom. His skin was a creamy, golden-peach color, the toned muscles of his arms and chest taut beneath the surface. Your eyes trailed down his body, past his broad shoulders, across his tight stomach and slim hips, to the hardness that begged your attention. You darted your tongue out across your lips, wanting nothing more than to feel him against the back of your throat again.

He caught your admiring stare, lips curving into a teasing half-smile as he watched you watching him. He patiently let you take him in for a moment before crossing his arms, blocking your view of his chest. "Don't make me repeat myself, pet."

Your attention refocusing, you pulled yourself up and turned over, leaning your face down into the sheets and pressing your rear up as he had requested.

He wasted no time in getting his hands on you again, gripping the sensitive skin of your ass, making you hiss in a breath. He chuckled at your reaction, hands slowly trailing down your thighs and nudging them apart once more.

“Look at this little cunt, dripping for me. You're ready to cum for me, aren't you?" he asked, thumb making a testing stroke across your clit. You bucked your hips a little in response. "But you know better than to cum without my permission, right?” he asked, knowing you knew the answer.

But all the same, you whined as his tongue connected with your lower lips, slipping across your folds and immediately pulling you back to unsafe territory. He stroked you with his mouth for what felt like an age, swapping between rolling his tongue across your clit and slipping it inside you, taking teasing laps that made your thighs shake weakly.

"Please..." you breathed, as he returned to your clit for the millionth time. You wouldn't last much longer. After being brought so close before, you were quickly ready to boil over again.

"Is that supposed to be begging?" he sneered, pulling his face from between your thighs and bringing a hand down against your ass with enough force to knock you down onto the bed.

“Up.”

It took some effort, your body simultaneously sore from his harsh treatment and weak from his teasing. But you raised yourself again.

He slipped at least two fingers between your folds then, pounding them inside you with rough force while he squeezed along your thigh with the other.

“If you cum without my permission, it’s going to get so much worse for you.”

The pressure against your pussy walls was agonizing, and you wriggled your wrists against their restraints, half wishing you could push his hands away for a reprieve. But he refused to let up and you could only cry out again and again.

“That’s right, you like it this way. You only understand when I’m tough on you, isn’t that right, my little slut?”

Your only response was to moan again, too far gone for words. You felt his hand leave your thigh, felt the warmth of his body leaning against yours as he reached again for your hair.

“Are you my slut?” he spat out at your back, and you groaned at the satisfying burn as he tugged your head back by your strands.

“Yes, Master,” you breathed, barely able to speak.

"Tell me you're my slut."

"I'm-I'm your slut." He let go of your head, throwing you forward again.

"Hm. Say it again."

"I'm your slut, Master."

“Tell me what you’re worth.” His fingers turned and curled inside you then in a speeding stroke across your g-spot. You squeezed your thighs together just a little, but his free hand forced you to  spread again the next second.

“Nothing...” you cried.

“That’s right, you’re good for nothing except what?”

“Be..being-” His hand left your thigh and joined the other between your legs, pressing unbearable rolls against your worn-out clit. Your words were cut off, unable to process anything beyond his touch.

“Speak up, pet, I can’t hear you,” his said, tone amused. You squeezed your eyes closed, trying to force yourself to concentrate on answering his question and not letting your orgasm overtake you, the latter of which you were sure was about to be a lost battle.

“B-being a... fucktoy. Disposable f-fucktoy.”

His hands were off you then and you fell forward into the sheets, a confusing mix of relief and frustration washing over you.

“Hm, at least I know you can remember. Up.”

You didn’t have the energy, your appendages ignoring your commands to move as he’d said. And some part of him must have taken pity on you for once, his hands slipping to your waist and pulling you up onto your knees, behind in the air for him once again.

“Tell me what you want, princess. You want my cock in this pussy? Or...should I fuck your ass raw?”

His fingers stroked across your ass until he pressed a knuckle against the puckered hole of your between your cheeks with the lightest pressure. Your hips betrayed your desires, lifting slightly at the touch.

“Hm?” he hummed curiously. “Ass tonight?”

“N-no, please,” you managed to say. “In my pussy, please.”

“Are you addressing me?” he asked, tone hardening. You groaned as you felt his thumb sliding into your ass, enough wetness having slipped from between your legs to give the effort some glide.

“Please, Master...” He paused for a moment and pulled his thumb from you, removing his touch from your body completely. It was somehow more agonizing, not being able to feel him there.

“Ah, I am a kind owner, aren’t I?” you heard him preen somewhere behind you.

“The kindest master,” you spoke, slightly muffled by your lips against the bed. “The only one for me, the only one I belong to, the only one I cum for.”

“Tell your master what you want and I’ll consider it,” he said, voice even and patient. He was so kind tonight, you praised him internally. So kind.

“In my pussy please, Master. Only your cock, ever, please.”

“Hm, a shame. This is your reward then for listening well enough. Remember that you wanted this.”

You felt the bed shift behind you, felt his strong hands grip your waist, the metal of his watch bumping against your hip as he shoved his cock inside you without warning, filling you to the hilt.

He groaned, deep and throaty, only matched by your own mewling, so satisfied to finally feel the rough stretch of him inside you. His hands squeezed your hips without caution, digging into the skin hard enough to ensure you would be sore there tomorrow as well.

“This fucking pussy,” he groaned, exhaling a long breath that you were proud to have drawn out. “Your pussy is so tight for what a slut you are.”

“Only for you, Master. Oh god..” you moaned. He lifted your hips a little, deepening the angle of his cock and the feeling of him slamming into your cervix over and over was maddening. You were drooling into the sheets in less than a minute, ready to sign over everything you owned if he would just let you cum, just let your pussy spasm around his cock.

He seemed to want to answer your silent prayer, hand reaching around and stroking your clit. The pain from his hips crashing into your ass was nothing compared to your need to finally reach your peak. “Please,” you wheezed out, begging for the inevitable release he was teasing you with.

Your cry came from deep inside your chest when you felt him pulling out of you. “Why-” you bemoaned and heard that mischievous chuckle from him again.

“Such a selfish slut,” he muttered and you felt his hands on your hips again, this time flipping you onto your back. He pressed your legs apart and you lifted yourself enough to bring your arms above your head before helping him to guide his length back inside you. His reach wasn’t as deep, but the drag of his thick cock was just as overwhelming. He leaned forward and you thought he might kiss you again, you were dying for his kiss.

But his hands only reached for your breasts, giving them rough squeezes as his hips continued their fierce pound between your legs.

“F-fuck, watching your body under me like this…” he hissed, pinching at your nipples with no gentle touch. You rolled your hips forward to meet his every thrust, though they were not gentle either.

He leaned forward again, releasing your breasts and instead pressing a hand against your bound wrists. The new angle spread your legs beneath him wider, and as his cock crashed between your folds, you felt him grinding fiercely against your clit over and over. You clenched around him tighter than you knew you could, your vision rolling back into your head just a little.

“Ho...Ho…..Hoseok, fuck…”

“What did you just say?” he growled, pausing his thrusts for a moment.

“Master, I'm sorry. Master, please don't stop. Please,” you hissed and whined, begging for him to just take you over the edge, you were right there, right there .

He leaned up then, shoving a hand across your face, forcing your mouth and nose against the sheets with an uncomfortable squeeze.

“Shut up. Just shut your fucking mouth, alright? It's useless unless there's a cock in it.”

Then his hands were at your throat and his thrusts resumed as his fingers tightened their grip. He pounded into you harder, deeper and you lost track of him, your vision going blurry as he squeezed the air from your throat, thumbs digging into the skin with each press forward into you. You choked a weak gasp, certain you weren’t going to last much longer as the edges of your sight darkened.

His hands released you, cock slipping from between your legs once again. You felt the bed shift and wondered if he had cum, but blinked back your uncertainty, your mind addled from the overage of sensations. He was much noisier when he came and you wondered if you’d missed it somehow in your brush with darkness.

Then his hands were at your ankles, pulling your body forward and flipping you onto your stomach. You groaned as his hands were on your hips, pulling you down and sliding your legs over the edge of the bed.

He slipped his feet between yours, kicking your legs apart and spreading your pussy lips with his fingers. You felt him guide his cock inside you again, starting to feel the soreness the effect of his ministrations was having on your sensitive area.

His hands didn’t move from your hips, his thrusts quickly becoming erratic, a sure sign that he was nearing his end.

“Where shall I cum, slut?” he asked, voice mostly a deep murmur. “On your back? Your face? Maybe I’ll cum on the floor and make you lick it up.” His hands slid up to your hair, tugging it back only slightly. “You'd like that, wouldn't you? Rolling on the floor in my cum like the filthy bitch you are?”

You moaned at his harsh words. “Cum inside me, please,” you panted.

“Is that what you want, huh? You cumslut, you want it inside your dirty little pussy?”

“Please Master, cum inside me, please.” You swallowed, reaching for the words inside your chest, forcing your voice to cooperate. “Breed me like your little bitch,” you purred out, however hoarse.

“Oh, you want to have my baby, hm?” He chuckled darkly at your words.

“What do you think he would say? If he knew you were begging for my baby while I’m buried inside you like this?” He released your hair and gripped your hips, lifting them just a little to slip in deeper as if to punctuate his words.

“He..he doesn't have to know. Please…” you keened.

“Tell me who you belong to. Say it.”

“You, Master. My pussy is only for you. Only for your cum, please.”

“You want me to fill your dirty little pussy with my cum, baby girl?”

You could tell me was losing himself a little, breath growing more ragged, words more sloppy.

“Yes, Master.”

“Yes, Master what?”

“Fill my pussy with your cum, Master, please. I want your baby inside me.”

“Beg for it.”

“Please Master, please. Fill me with your cum, I want to feel it filling my belly, please. Please!” you begged, almost crying.

He reached out, shoving your face into the bed and rutting against your ass, burying himself deeper into your wetness.

“Take it then, my little cumslut.” His breathing staccatoed and his groans built slowly until his hips came to a halt and he growled noisily, spilling his seed deep inside you with every intention of giving you the pleasure of carrying his baby.

Your body was trembling at the feeling, the satisfaction of having his seed pumped inside you this way. You didn’t move, didn’t dare breath as he came down from his high. He leaned forward against you, planting precious few kisses along your back. And then he took his hands from your hips, slipping his softened cock out of you. You fell forward onto the bed, uninterested in moving, not even sure if you were able.

His breathing slowly evened as he stood behind you and, mercifully, you felt his hands at your wrists, finally releasing your hands from their binds. You slid them to the sides of your body, already cursing the soreness in your shoulders.

You felt him roll you over onto your back, hissing a little at the still stinging pain in your backside. But looking at him eased your suffering slightly. His skin was glistening with sweat, droplets of it dotting his forehead and neck. He had turned slightly red, flushed with the exertion and, no doubt, his release. He smiled down at you, seemingly admiring your body with the same appreciation.

But the smile fell from his lips as his eyes roamed further down your body.

“Oh, what’s this?”

He was shoving your legs apart, fingers again impossibly on your core. But more disheartening was what you could feel as he did so, the slow slip of some liquid that wasn’t entirely your own making its way across the innermost of your thighs.

“You said you wanted to have my baby. So why is my cum leaking from your worthless pussy?” He barked a laugh, making a sharp slap against your inner thigh. You winced. “You can’t even keep cum inside you properly?”

His fingers were inside you again then, and though you didn’t think you could take any more, your hips responded, lifting to his touch as he dragged his fingers forward as if he was asking you to come. Which he was.

“Is this the only way to keep it inside you? I have to shove it back into your useless cunt?”

And so he was back to fingering your pussy, pulling you closer to the edge you hadn’t strayed far from all night. With only a few strokes against your clit you were moaning beneath him once again. “Please…” you begged for the millionth time. Truth be told, you had lost count. “Please let me cum, please…”

His fingers slid from you with a dirty, squelching noise, a testament to all the wetness that had built up in you over the course of the evening. Laying beside you on the bed, he brought his fingers to your lips and you parted them obediently. The taste couldn’t be described as anything other than sex, lingering with salty sweat, the bitterness of his cum, and the tang of your slick.

“Go clean yourself up. And don't even think about touching yourself.” He only dismissed you with these words, laying himself back onto the bed while looking at you expectantly.

Weak and defeated you pulled your body forward and slid onto weak legs. You gave him one last pout, to which he only raised an eyebrow, and, wholly unsatisfied, you hurried off to the bathroom suite just off the bedroom.

Stepping into the shower was reliving and disappointing both. The warm water stung across your bruised skin in several places. But it also soothed the tension in your muscles. You rolled your neck and stretched under the stream as best you could, anything that might ease the soreness you would doubtlessly feel in the morning.

You reached for your loofah and began to wash your body, feeling the grime of sweat and spit and various bodily fluids being rinsed from your skin. You wondered if it would be an entire month before he let you cum, shuddering at the fearful prospect. This must’ve been the true punishment and it was agonizing.

You turned beneath the showerhead, biting your tongue a little at the sting when something in the glass caught your eye. He was standing there in the doorway to the bathroom, still nude, arms crossed, and leaning a shoulder against the door frame. His eyes were watching you with an out-of-character admiration, the dark, brown curls of his hair slightly stuck to his still sweaty forehead. But once he noticed your eyes on him, his expression hardened a little, and he moved to join you, tugging open the glass doors and stepping inside the shower with you.

Without hesitation you grabbed your husband’s loofah, loading it with product, and began scrubbing down his body. He didn’t speak, allowing you to clean him in silence. Though you didn’t miss the slow rise of his cock as you ran your soaped hands along his skin.

As you stood, finished as far as you could see, he stepped forward, pressing you back against the tiles of the shower wall. He raised a hand to stroke your jaw and this time you didn’t resist, nuzzling your face against his touch.

“You didn’t even whine, pet. You’ve improved so much from that mouthy, little princess that first came to me, hm?” His thumb brushed across your lips and you pressed a cheeky kiss against it, drawing a chuckle from him. “My good girl...”

And like you had been craving all evening, he kissed you, hand slipping into your wet hair at the base of your neck. He kissed you with a deep passion, trading tongues for feelings as his lips wrestled with yours.

He patted the side of your thigh, but you didn’t have the energy to jump into his arms as he wished. He pressed his forehead against yours, hands slipping behind your thighs and pulling them up to meet his waist.

Without great effort, you felt the hardness that had returned slip inside you again. He grunted as he thrust into you, a little less Master, a little more like the man you loved. You leaned your head into his neck, moaning softly as he pressed up against your folds over and over.

You felt him brace you both against the wall with one hand, the other slipping between you to make quick strokes against your battered clit. It must have been less than a minute before he had you cooing his name into his skin. Back to teetering on the edge, too weak to beg for permission.

But the stretch of him was just as satisfying as before and even with his gentler stroke, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. You tightened your legs around his waist, your fingers desperately clawing for purchase on his wet skin.

“Cum for me, my princess,” he purred into your neck. “You’ve earned it.”

The orgasm he had been building in you all evening came crashing down in fierce waves, your body trembling against his chest as it overtook you, flashing through your body like sparks of lightning. And just as the dizzying rise of it began to subside, you felt yourself slip away, darkness quickly overtaking everything else.

You woke with a start, eyes attempting to focus in the darkness of the room. The lights had been turned off, save for one you could sense in the distance. But you felt a warm hand on your cheek, stroking you with a gentle touch, then slipping to your shoulder and pressing you back against what must have been a pillow.

“You did really well. Sleep, pet. I'll see you next month.” And as you had all evening, you obeyed that voice, the one that filled your days and nights with more happiness than you could ask for.

The next time you woke up it was thanks to the bright streams of yellow sunlight passing through the glass walls of your bedroom. Sitting up was a painful chore, but you managed to drag yourself from the bed and wander slowly into the bathroom. You didn’t bother looking in the mirror, not wanting to visualize the damage that had been done to you the evening before. Instead, you reached into a cabinet and searched out some pain medicine, swallowing it down as quickly as you could fill a glass of water. Though you weren’t sure it would be enough to stop the aching soreness in your muscles and between your legs.

With a quick sweep of the house you had gathered up your clothes and, not wanting to linger, headed out to your car and quickly got back on the road to your home in the city.

Once you arrived home you headed inside, fully planning to crash lazily in your bed for the rest of the day. Your husband’s suitcase lay just to the side of the entryway, carelessly tossed there as it often was. And you noticed a curious black mask sticking up out of a side pocket.

You smiled to yourself, tugging it out and following the faint sound of his voice to the room he kept as his home office. You found him, hurriedly talking business into his mobile as usual. After a moment, he noticed you in the doorway, giving you a bright smile, eyes rich with love. He wrapped up his call quickly and tucked his phone into his pocket as he walked towards you. You waved the little mask in front of your face, giving him a smug smile.

“This really ruins my immersion, Hoseok,” you cooed. His eyes widened at the sight and he blushed, expression turning sheepish.

“Ah, shit. Sorry, love,” he apologized. “This call started in the car and I just threw it down when I got in.”

He tugged it from your fingers, tossing it behind him and pulling you into his arms.

“Although, calling my name during sex probably doesn’t help the immersion either, hm?”

“Touché,” you conceded. He leaned forward, his lips pressing softly against your own and you savored the connection, happy to be back in his loving arms.

“How are you feeling? Sore? Need a massage?” He planted soft kisses down the curve of your jaw between his questions and you smiled at the attention.

“Please, I'm not that delicate.”

And he smirked as you hissed in pain when his hand pressed a light squeeze against your behind.

“Ok,” you conceded again. “Maybe just a nice, hot bath.”

Turning around at the sound of your voice, Jungkook smiled at the image you in the process of waking up, bleary eyed and bushy tailed. The impending game tonight did leave a heavy weight on his chest when we woke up, but he felt it resolve as soon as he saw you with half lidded eyes, staring at him with an equally tired but adoring smile. It was times like this when he momentarily forgot about all his responsibilities and burdens because by god was he blessed to have the most beautiful partner in crime, and that wasn’t the athlete in him talking. But only momentarily because he remembered why you were swaddled in grey sheets and looking at him as if he was about break all ten commandments at the same time by doing one thing: exercising in the morning.

“How are you feeling, champ?,” you asked softly as you see Jungkook lean down to warm up his body with those god awful push ups.

“Don’t jinx it babe,” was all he said through deeply measured breaths as he lifted and lowered himself, arm muscles bulging from under his loose pajama shirt. If there was one thing you loved about sleeping with Jungkook, it was that he didn’t sleep naked to show off like all the other athletes did just to wake up with rock hard nipples from the almost freezing temperatures. Thankfully, your boyfriend was a lot smarter than that, choosing to deck himself out in long pants and fleece lined shirts, serving as a personal heater wrapped around you.

“It’s not considered jinxing if I believe it’s going to happen,” you argued, shuffling to the edge of the bed where you leaned your head down to watch him go at it in the spot right next to you on the floor.

Today was a big deal to both him and the entire university population along with half the state. Somehow, the university’s team had made it through an entire season undefeated which put them at the number two spot in the nation, but you knew part of it was because Jungkook had bulked up over summer and was given the position of starting quarterback. It also meant they were up against what was considered the powerhouse of college football for a division 1 championship title: Penn State.

“You know,” he breathed out, doing one last push up before moving himself over to where your upper half was hanging off the bed, “None of this wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for you.”

Oh god. Cue the dramatic music followed by an eye roll. Mornings with Jungkook were just like any other domestic couple, but sometimes, just sometimes, the boy was convinced that his corny jokes and cringe worthy compliments would be appreciated. They were never welcomed.

“Oh Jeon Jungkook. Leave it to you to make a usual morning cheesy and dramatic,” you smiled, a playing smile on his lips as well as you pecked him on the forehead before moving off the bed and into his fuzzy slippers that were about ten sizes too big for you.

“You better not be going to the floor bathroom like you did last time,” he called over his shoulder as you gathered your toiletries in your arms.

Making a show of turning around slowly, you faced the boy with a challenging look and a slight quirk of your eyebrow. You take note of how his arms tensed, muscles straining against the fabric that was usually loose at the sleeves, and his jaw tightened. Man was your boo hot when you worked him up just enough.

“I don’t like,” he seethed, taking wide strides over to where you stood, rooted to your place as your eyes followed his every move, “when my teammates eye out what’s mine,” he all but growled. Once he reached you, standing so close that a sheet of paper couldn’t even fit between the two of you, he took hold of your waist in a gentle grasp, a drastic contrast to his tone of voice which made you shudder. He stood a good eight inches taller than you but that didn’t matter when his forehead leaned down to connect against your own, holding you close to him just to breathe you in.

“Well then that’s your fault for choosing to dorm on an all boys floor,” you whispered playfully, leaning up to capture his lips against your own in a sweet but private kiss, shifting your hands so it rested against his soft but chiseled chest.

“I’m going to my dorm, don’t worry. Meet me in the lobby in an hour?,” you asked, cutely tucking your head under his chin so your ear could clearly hear the steady beat of his heart.

“Hmm depends,” Jungkook mused, an adoring smile playing on his lips as he rocked the two of you back and forth to a nonexistent rhythm, “Will I be promised a good luck breakfast?”

His arms traveled up to rest around your shoulders in a safe and warm embrace, cocking his head to look down at your face. Moving your head to have your chin rest against his chest, he raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes in a playful but questioning expression making you giggle.

“Yeah yeah,” you rolled your eyes, putting some space between the two of you but allowed him to keep his fingers intertwined with yours, “Just go run your eight miles.”

“For you, I’d run eighty miles,” he said, making you groan in how cheesy and cliche he was being. Jungkook just laughed at your exasperation, pulling you into him one last time. You didn’t have to see him to know he was smiling. Landing a kiss at the crown of your head, he sweetly led you to the door of his dorm where he opened it like a gentleman and pushed you through it like an asshole.

“Later loser,” he said with full affection, landing a soft pat to your butt.

“Bye shithead,” you waved, blowing him a kiss as he watched you walk down the hall and up the stairs.

An hour later, true to your words, the two of you were walking out of the building, hand in hand, decked out in full winter coats and layers of jackets. While usual couples would dress up a bit before driving out to have a nice breakfast together on a Saturday morning, you and Jungkook would put coats over your home clothes and walk to the nearest iHop which was conveniently placed right outside of campus.

“How were the guys this morning?,” you asked, swinging your interlocked hands higher and higher with each step.

“They tried to go on my run with me. Half of them dropped out after the first three miles, the other half were only coming in after I already showered,” he laughed, tugging your hand into his coat pocket where three hand warmers were placed so you didn’t somehow dislocate his or your shoulder.

“It’s not their fault you literally sprint your way through eight miles!,” you said, coming to the other boys’ defense because you knew how your boyfriend was. “You get your blitz practice through your morning run. What a man.”

“Shut up,” he smiled, pinching your side with his free arm, making you laugh and dodge his attack. From an outsiders point of view, the two of you seem like the perfect couple, the epitome of college lovers, and yeah, you would agree with them. Y’all were in love as fuck.

Entering the iHop at 7 in the morning was something Darla, the hostess that worked the Saturday morning shift, was accustomed to, her face lighting up as the two of you stepped into the restaurant right on time.

“It’s a big day,” the old woman squealed, leading the two of you to your usual table without even taking menus with her. “I hope you’re getting the Champion’s special. You need to eat like one if you hope to become one.”

“Thanks Darla, but I don’t wanna toot my own horn or anything, especially when Penn state is the best in the nation,” Jungkook said humbly, flustered from all the fuss the old woman was making.

You smiled as he took your hand from across the table like he usually does, weaving his fingers with yours subconsciously while his attention was on Darla.

“Nonsense,” she almost yelled, “This is the first time that damn university had gone undefeated since I graduated from there. And let me tell you honey, that was a long time ago.”

Promising to consider getting the small feast that was the Champion’s special, Darla had wished him luck and gathered you in a small hug of your own before moving away to greet the other guests.

“Hey Kathy,” you smiled at the waitress who also happened to be your lab partner, “We’ll have the usual, but this time, can you add an extra order of scrambled eggs?”

“Sure thing,” the girl said, her sweet southern accent friendly and familiar. As she wished Jungkook good luck tonight as well, your boyfriend breathed a sigh of relief when she was out of earshot.

“What’s up baby bubble?,” you asked, concerned as he looked more tired and worn down than he did this morning, face darker than you felt comfortable.

“It’s just,” he sighed again, eyes focusing on his busy fingers playing with yours, “I don’t want to get their hopes up then let everyone down. I don’t  want to not live up to their expectations.”

You saw the hesitation and fear in his face and you frowned. There was so much he needed to live up to with so little space for error that you could understand where he was coming from. Hell, you’d be more concerned if he wasn’t terrified of messing up. But Jungkook had always been a little self conscious and insecure about his abilities especially because he hadn’t been the star player he was at the beginning. Even through that, everyone knew he was talented enough to deserve every praise, you knew he deserved every title and every award he was given. You just needed him to see why.

“Hey,” you said softly, tilting your head to the side to catch his eyes, “You’re not going to live up to their expectations, you’re gonna exceed them. I believe in you, Tae believes in you, your parents believe in you, the whole university believes in you. But just because they believe in you doesn’t mean they don’t believe in your team as well. You guys are solid and practiced and passionate. You’re not walking out on that field alone, Jeon Jungkook, there are tons of people in the corner with you.”

He took in your words, letting them sink into his brain and ring in his ears as the food starts to come out, one by one. As you were about to pull your hand away from his to start eating, Jungkook tugs it back, slowly lifting it up to kiss your knuckles softly.

“Thank you,” he whispered, giving you an award winning smile like you knew he would and finally facing the food with widened eyes.

“Holy shit what the hell did you order?,” he almost yelled, looking at the table almost filled to the edge with plates of food.

Crossing your arms across your chest, you pouted as he pointedly looked at you. “My baby ain’t going out there unfueled, thank you very much. No quarterback boyfriend of mine is going out there without a fully nourished body.”

Staring at you, you just looked at him with an accusing face, not backing down.

“God I love you,” he groaned, making you smile as he picked up his fork and started digging in, not forgetting to cut pieces of pancake to feed you because he was just cheesy like that.

“I wonder if they know how disgustingly cute they are,” Kathy mused, standing next to Darla as the two women looked over at the couple giggling in the corner booth, feeding each other with more and more pieces of pancake to see who could fit more in their mouth.

“I’m sure they know, those assholes,” Darla smiled, wishing the two of them happiness in the innermost thoughts of her conscience.

“I feel like I ate a small whale,” Jungkook whined, your hand back in his as the two of you walked back onto campus, taking a detour back to the dorms so he could fulfill his pregame ritual.

“Well you have an insanely high metabolism so in a few hours that small whale will feel like one leaf from a salad,” you laughed, reaching up to fix his beanie over his dark brown hair, pulling it back down into place and landing a quick peck onto his cheek.

It was only nine in the morning and he didn’t start practice until two in the afternoon so you both decide to walk off your ridiculously large breakfast and took the long way around the campus. It seemed to be freezing out but the both of you knew better because you were out and about after all. Some days were just too cold to even consider stepping outside.

“Are you gonna be sitting with mom and dad again today?,” he asked, looking over at you questioningly. From the start of the season, Jungkook’s parents had started coming to every game to see their son play, and every game, you sat next to them, cheering him on.

“Yeah. Too bad Taehyung has to lead the marching band tonight. He would’ve loved to watch you play,” you sighed. Taehyung was Jungkook’s best friend and also one of the three drum majors of the university’s marching band which worked out well for a while. Jungkook would play and Taehyung would get into the games for free to watch him, but somewhere down the line, Taehyung had gotten good at being the drum major and suddenly, football games were more of him conducting than him watching.

“It’s alright. I saw him this morning, sleeping on the toilet with his score taped to his forehead. Poor guy’s really outdoing himself,” Jungkook said, chucking at the memory of a dazed Taehyung with his eyes barely open behind his thick glasses, walking around while he conducted a nonexistent band.

“It’s been a while since the band had to break out the piece of victory,” you agreed. The university’s marching band had certain pieces that they played for specific occasions, one of those occasions being a won championship title. Like Darla said in the restaurant, it’s been a good forty years since they last broke it out so it’s not a surprise that Taehyung had to learn it from a score and not from ear.

“Let’s hope his efforts don’t go to waste,” Jungkook said, turning the corner to reveal the stadiums entrance area and the big fountain in the middle of the clearing.

One of the many rituals Jungkook took part in before a game was the tossing of a coin into the bucket on the statue. He had some kind of superstition that if he landed the coin in the bucket, which was a good seven feet from the edge of the fountain, on the first toss, then they would have a successful coin toss once the game started. He had explained to you one night how winning the coin toss at the beginning of the game is crucial; it determines if he plays or not and in a way, it determines the advantage of one team over the other. You thought it was silly, but this was Jungkook so you let him be. If it made him feel better, it made you feel better.

While he dug around in his pockets for loose change, you broke away from his hand to walk around the fountain, thinking of all the times you had been here with him in the exact situation, yet you never stopped to fully take in the beauty that was the design of the marble and rock. Being an arts major, you had learned to appreciate beauty from the outside in. Maybe that’s why you fell in love with Jungkook.

Looking over, you ran your eyes over the same body you’ve known for almost three years. You took in his boyish features partially hidden behind a scarf, his tall and muscular build of a seasoned athlete, his dark brown hair that everyone assumed was black but you knew better. The wind was nippy and the temperature was cold, but when you looked at him doing the most mundane thing, he was looking for a coin goddamnit, you felt warm inside.

“Babe come ‘ere,” he waved you over with crinkled eyes and you knew he was smiling behind his scarf. When you reached him, he took your hand, kissed your open palm through your mittens, and replaced his lips with a quarter in the middle of your hand.

“I want you to do it with me,” he said, hope laced with his honey voice. “I want this toss to be done together. You don’t have to shoot for the bucket if you don’t want to it’s just- I want you to do this with me.”

Staring up at his big, bright eyes, you saw what you failed to see in other men: sincerity. Jeon Jungkook never dealt in uncertainties and never did anything half as well as he could have. He only worked in full, the living definition of go big or go home. So no, you couldn’t say no to the man that made your heart do mysterious things, taking the coin and closing your eyes to transfer your wish into the small piece of metal.

I wish for a lifetime of happiness for Jeon Jungkook.

“Ready?,” you hear him ask next to you, his voice just above a whisper even if it were only the two of you here.

Nodding you opened your eyes and focused on the bucket which seemed so far away. For a moment, you considered just tossing it into the basin of the fountain just to save yourself from embarrassment, but you realize just how important this wish is and tell yourself to get it together. Eyeing the large enough opening in the stone, you watch as Jungkook’s coin smoothly goes in, hearing a faint clang of metals. Suddenly, you’re letting go of the coin in an underhand position, holding your breath as you watch the coin’s projectile, hoping that you didn’t screw this up enough that it doesn’t land in the bucket.

Hearing the metal clang made your heart jump into your throat.

“Whoo!,” Jungkook yelled, picking you up by the waist and spinning you around before setting you back down on the ground. His eyes were sparkling under the white reflection of the freshly fallen snow and his lips were curled up in a soft smile making him look like an angel. You felt like you were looking at him for the first time, your heart in a familiar frenzy as you smiled back at him closing your eyes as he pressed a simple kiss to your forehead.

“Just because you made that shot, I’m gonna win the coin toss tonight. All because of you,” he joked, making you groan and laugh at the same time. He held on tight to your waist as you both started back to the dorms.

“Shut up. What’ll happen if you don’t win the coin toss?,” you said, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Nothing because that won’t happen because my girlfriend is fucking magic,” he said nonchalantly, shrugging as you softly punched his chest, laughing in embarrassment.

“You’re the very one telling me not to jinx it and there you go,” you accused, crossing your arms over your chest. Jungkook just smiled and before you knew it, he was lifting you up onto his shoulder and running down the concrete.

“Oh my god! Jeon Jungkook put me down you behemoth!,” you screamed, hitting your boyfriend’s back and kicking your legs as if that would deter him in any way.

“My girlfriend is fucking magic!,” he just yelled making some students who were jogging or just walking around turn to look at the two of you, spinning you around, making you squeal and laugh, empty threats of killing him if he didn’t put you down.

It was times like this that made you understand how lucky you were. This boy, Jeon Jungkook, made a simple day brighter just by being by your side, by laughing and smiling without reservations even when he was plagued by his own stress. As the two of you happily laughed and screamed both at and with each other into the emptiness of a saturday morning, you couldn’t help but hope your wish from the fountain came true because even if it wasn’t with you, your boyfriend deserved the world because he was more than willing to give it to you.

A few more hours past with the two of you just lounging around Jungkook’s dorm, some of the boys coming in and out of the room to ask mundane questions or sneak some of your boyfriend’s protein powder into their juices as if that would help them with anything. Taehyung came in at some point, going off about how he was going to seriously hurt Jungkook if they don’t win tonight because that would mean he spent 28 hours memorizing a 15 minute piece for nothing. But the other ended up staying in the dorm with you two, taking over Jungkook’s spinny chair and rolling around the room, humming an unfamiliar melody.

“What time do you have to be down?,” Taehyung asked Jungkook, looking over at the other boy who was cuddling you on his bed.

“2 hours. Pregame practice was extended. You?,” Jungkook asked back, lazily turning his eyes back to where his laptop was playing the an old episode of the Magicians for you to catch up since you refused to watch any of the newer episodes with him until you were caught up completely.

“2 minutes,” Taehyung laughed, slouching back into his chair, “I don’t wanna play tonight I just wanna watch I mean it’s not every season my best friend annihilates the field.”

“Tell Tommy to take over for once,” Jungkook suggested, pulling you closer to his chest as scenes of Alice as a niffin played loudly from the speakers.

“Tommy’s pretty shit at waving his arms around,” Taehyung sighed, pulling himself up and out of the chair. “Looks like it’s times to frantically search for my uniform that’s probably still wrinkled from the last game. See ya on the field JK.”

Waving the other goodbye, it was back to just you two in the room, allowing you to take his full focus again. In two hours, Jungkook would be out of your arms and on the field, running drill after drill to perfection, but before that, you were gonna get in a good two hours of cuddling because damn was the boy soft when he wanted to be.

“Oh I forgot to give you something,” Jungkook started, shifting in the blankets and hopping off the bed, making you whine from the loss of warmth. “You’ve been wearing my old number for like, the whole season.”

“Yeah because you couldn’t find a jersey with your new number on it,” you confirmed, still focused on the screen in front on you and the blankets he left you swaddled in, “We had that whole argument about it remem- God Julia you fucking bitch! What the fuck are you doing?!”

Laughing into his closet, Jungkook shook his head at the intrusion of you yelling, focusing on finding that small box he hid somewhere in here as soon as it came in the mail so you wouldn’t have the chance to ask what it was.

“Of course I remember. That was by far our stupidest fight and we fought over whether tomatoes should be considered a vegetable,” he mused, turning over some dirty clothes he still needed to wash, rummaging through old shirts old shirts and socks that never found their pair, “I can’t believe you didn’t talked to me for a week.”

While other couples had their own unique pastimes like volunteering at animal shelters or taking care of old people’s groceries, you were proud to say that you and Jungkook’s pastime is nothing as progressive nor useful to society. Instead, the two of you engage in pointless and borderline chaotic arguments that usually end up in kisses and giggles anyway. And yeah, everyone pretty much hates them for it.

Once he found the box still taped and unopened, Jungkook took a deep breath, fighting the urge to pinch himself and check if he was dreaming.

“Here. Open it,” he prodded softly, moving his laptop so he could sit on his desk chair right in front of the bed facing you.

Smiling cautiously, you slowly took the box from him, shaking it first just in case he was trying to pull something on you. When you decided it was harmless, you look over at your boyfriend who was obviously sweating buckets as you cautiously ripped the sealing tape off. Softly grabbing his hand, you frown at him in confusion but offered comfort at the same time. When you opened the flaps of the box, your breath caught in your throat as your eyes landed on the blue, gold, and black dry fit fabric of a jersey you were familiar with. The number that was facing you in black ink, however, was not. Right under Jungkook’s last name was the striking 14 that matched his own jersey on the field.

“How- where did you get this? The university stopped making the jersey’s once season started,” you said breathlessly, picking up the shirt in your hands and out of the box, holding it by the shoulders to see the uniform in its full form.

“I uh,” Jungkook stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck like he does when he was flustered, “I had it custom made. By the graphics department. Jimin knew a guy so I asked.”

Wearing Jungkook’s number was a big deal to the both of you. Sure, you could’ve been like all the other girlfriends that all sat with each other with their boyfriend’s jersey’s on their backs and aimlessly cheered during the games when their real attention was on Janet and why her and William were in another fight. Honestly, if you tried hard enough, you would’ve fit right in, but his number meant so much more than that to you. To you, wearing his number felt like being next to him on the field guiding and cheering him on and moving and breathing with him.

That’s why not being able to feel that level of comfort and connection for almost the entire season had made you uneasy every time you stepped foot into that stadium, or whatever stadium it was because no matter where the game was, you were there.

“I- oh god,” you choked, feeling the tears well up just enough to mess with your eyesight as Jungkook became a murky mosaic right in front of you, “I- I just-”

Smiling as you blubbered off in incoherent, unfinished sentences, Jungkook crawled onto the bed and resumed his previous position next to you, pulling the blankets over him and pulling you into his chest where the steady beat of his heart seemed to calm you down. Seeing your reaction made him confidence once more knowing he knew what could made you happy. 

“Spit it out baby,” he chuckled, tracing soft circles on your arm and waist in an attempt to make you relax.

“You better fucking win tonight,” you threatened under sniffles and a stuffy nose, hitting him on the chest before wrapping your own arms around him.

“Alright babe, time to go,” Jungkook smiled nervously, one hand holding his helmet, the other around yours as the rest of the team started to get ready for practice with five hours under kickoff.

Rummaging in your bag, you handed him a gatorade like you always do before any practice, because electrolytes save lives, and moved your hand free hand upwards to smooth down some of his chestnut brown hair. As the strands danced between your fingertips, you smiled at the boy in front of you, literally doused in nervous energy. Jittery and excited, but nervous.

“Jeon Jungkook,” you softly scolded, “You better not be getting cold feet on me. What’s up baby boo?”

“It just…Every weekend for the past four months I’ve been under saturday night lights that highlighted my every move, my every mistake. And I don’t know why that didn’t bother me then, but now it’s all I’m thinking about and I-”

Pulling him into a tight hug, you reached up to hook your arms around his neck because you knew your arms wouldn’t fit around the bulky uniform and protective gear he was already wearing. Hearing Jungkook voice his nerves in a panicked tone made you feel like you were back in freshman year, a smaller, leaner Jeon Jungkook struggling to pull himself together for his first college game. It made you smile, even though the memory wasn’t a pleasant one, because he has once again proved to you just how far he’s come, and nothing, not even the nerves, was gonna make him jeopardize this game. Not when he’s come so far.

“Jeon Jungkook,” you cooed, stroking his hair as you felt him tighten his grip around you, “What happened to the big shot quarterback who never let anything or anyone faze him?”

“I don’t know,” he half groaned half whined into your shoulder, making you laugh at his comical distress when you knew you really shouldn’t be.

“Hey. If you ever get nervous or stressed, just remember what I told you this morning. You’re not going out there alone, you’re going out there as part of a team. As the leader of a team that trust you and that you need to trust in return,” you sighed, pulling away so you could cradle his face in your hands. Big, beautiful eyes were boring into yours as you gave him a comforting smile.

“You, Jeon Jungkook,” you whispered, making sure understood every word you said, “You earned that role. You worked just as hard as anyone on this team if not harder and I’m not just saying that because you’re my boyfriend, but because it’s true. So go and give Penn State a run for their money.”

As he just stared at you for a good few moments, you started to wonder if you said the wrong thing. That is, until he takes your cheeks in your hands and lands a deep kiss on your lips, pushing against your lips but bringing your body closer to him in ways that made you feel fuzzy in the head. Like you said, Jungkook wasn’t one to do something in fractions, only in full.

Breaking away from him, he chased after you which made you giggle, placing a hand over his chest to stop him. You felt the eyes on the two of you from his teammates and coaching staff, making your face flush and your cheeks heat up if a way you couldn’t appreciate in the cold winter weather.

“You have drills to run,” you said sheepishly, suddenly shy as Jungkook smiled at you with his hands still caressing your cheeks.

“Cheer for me on the field?,” he asked with soft eyes and a soft tone, making you wonder why his teammates were so intimidated by him when he freely lets these emotions and sides of himself show.

“I’ll be cheering the loudest,” you confirm, letting him kiss a few more times, your smile growing bigger and bigger with every loud smack of his lips on yours. Finally, he pulled away from you, sending you off with a wave of his helmet.

Starting the trek back to your dorm from the training center, you took in a fresh breath of air. This was going to be a peaceful walk back, you were sure of it.

“What are you idiots doing?! Get back inside. Did I say 20 burpees? Good, make it 50. And while you’re at it, go and give Penn State the trophy because you’d much rather loiter around like neanderthals instead of training! Get to practice!”

Oh. That’s why they’re intimidated by him.

“Oh sweetheart! I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve last seen you,” Jungkook’s mother cooed as she walked through the gates of the stadium with Jungkook’s dad in tow. Smiling at the two of them, you greeted them with hugs and quick exchanges of pleasantries before linking arms with both of them and walking into the stadium to take your seats.

“So how’s Junghyun and his wife,” you asked, waiting in line to get into the seating area. The stadium was already half full with students and parents and alumni traveling from everywhere just to watch the big game. Like Darcy said, it’s been a while since this old school had even seen a season this long.

“They’re good. They found a place just north of San Fran so they’re hoping to settle down soon. I hope they’re talking about baby plans but this old man can only hope,” Jungkook’s dad laughed heartily, a laugh that resembled Jungkook’s.

“What I really want to know,” his mom’s voice dropped into something akin to a whisper as she leaned over to you, “Is when are you and Jungkook finally gonna tie the knot, huh?”

“Mom!,” you laughed, pushing the woman with a flustered smile, “We’re still in college. Who knows, maybe Jungkook will dump me for some hot sorority chick next week.”

“Sure hope he has enough brains left in that thick head of his to know that’s not a good idea,” his dad laughed, “I almost made that mistake; would have costed me a lifetime of happiness.”

Softly smiling, you watched as the older couple shared knowing looks before bursting out laughing. When you had first met Jungkook’s parents, you couldn’t help but notice the pure love that still ran through their eyes, something that you had found yourself wanting with Jungkook ten, twenty, hell, fifty years down the line. Strength like that was hard to find between two people now days, but you had hoped it would never waver for them and you hoped that one day, you would know how it feels.

“That crazy old man almost dropped me for a girl he kissed once when he was high. I told him that if he wanted to do that, go ahead, but no one else was going to deal with him through the 13 hours it takes to go back to Korea,” she laughed and you were glad she did. Some people didn’t take to these things well, choosing to push it back into the deeper corners of their mind so it couldn’t hurt them a second time around.

“I was high when I told you that! Of course I wasn’t gonna leave you. Steve was just waiting for me to get out of the picture and hell was I gonna let him get you. He was gonna have to pry you from my cold, dead hands,” the man mused, making his wife smile and lean over to you again, as if telling you a secret that he didn’t already know.

“He’s just saying that because you’re here. He was ready to willingly give me to Steve as if I was gonna let him leave me, psh,” she rolled her eyes, pinching your side knowingly as her husband gave her side eyes.

Laughing, you couldn’t believe your ears as the tea from his parents came pouring out. This happened every time you saw them and every time, you felt like you were growing closer and closer to them. It wasn’t every day that you saw them, you wish it were, but each time was well spent, bonding over things that your own parents wouldn’t even talk to you about. And with this, you felt grateful. Grateful that you met Jungkook on the first day of orientation, grateful that he had introduced you to a whole new world of love, grateful that he had parents who had no problem supporting you as if you were their own daughter.

Showing your VIP passes Jungkook gave you at the beginning of every season, whether it be football or soccer, you were shown the way to the box, which you and his parents promptly ignored, choosing to walk down to the sidelines, sitting as close to the benches as the bleachers would allow you to.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to sit with us, you know. Go ahead and sit with your friends, I feel bad that you have to hang around with two old geezers,” his mom said, patting your knee as the the countdown to kickoff read fifteen minutes.

“Oh nonsense. I don’t have friends don’t worry,” you joked. But in reality, you had never wanted to sit with them anyway. Most of them cheered for Alex or Christian, thinking that Jungkook already had enough fans that they didn’t need to support him, but you knew otherwise which made it unbearable to be around them.

You turned and looked around, taking in the huge stadium that seemed to already be packed with fifteen more minutes on the clock. You had been to approximately 32 football games, yet nothing could prepare you for the overwhelming shock you felt seeing the crowd that came out to watch the playoffs. You could only imagine the pressure of both teams waiting to get out there.

Seeing flashes of metal refractions and sparkly uniforms, you look over to Taehyung leading the enormous marching band down the steps of the bleachers and into the stands that there marked off for them a little above your own seat. With the long blue coat over his white pants and black helmet, you smiled at Taehyung who seemed to be looking for you, knowing you would be somewhere close by. He looked stunning every time he put on that uniform as if it were made for him. Which it was, but that was besides the point.

Time ticked away slowly as you sat back and watched people come and go around you. You heard Taehyung yelling somewhere up there, something about warming up and tuning. The two best friends were intimidating leaders in their own respects. How fitting of both of them. His parents were engaged in a very serious game of pool on their phones which left you to your own devices. You would’ve gotten food, but that breakfast was still sitting with you and concession was probably a mess with only five minutes to kickoff. Your mind quickly drifted to Jungkook and how he was feeling. Tonight was a big night for everyone, but you knew the stakes were high for him especially with the focus on him and his plays.

“Y/n, they’re starting,” his mom nudged you, your eyes flying to the home tunnel where the cheerleaders and athletic staff were already lined up to greet the team. You stood and watched through the presentation of colors and the national anthem before hearing the stadium errupt in cheers and screams as the announcer called upon your university.

Your heart sped up in your chest as you watched the jumbo screen above. You knew you were too far away to see any of the players properly, but Jungkook was the one leading them so at least you would get a quick glimpse of him as they did their team presentation. When the tunnel opened and you saw the 14 right at the entrance, your breath caught in your throat as if it were the first time you saw him on the field. Even from behind his helmet, you could see his distinctive eyes, sharp and focused as he looked on both sides to his team before yelling something incoherent and the boys came charging onto the field in spurts of high energy. The scene was familiar and almost common that you were surprised when you felt your stomach flutter in nerves and excitement feeding off the boys’ energy.

As they started to come back to their bench to let Penn State be announced, you watch Jungkook rip his helmet off revealing his messy brown hair and dark eyes making your tongue go dry and the hot flame subtly ignite in the pit of your stomach. The uniform didn’t help in the least bit, squeezing his thick thighs and tight waist and his jersey riding up just a little bit to where you could see his ab muscles clearly defined from all the workouts and intense training. Lost in your thoughts of checking him out, you were shaken from them when you see him smirk over at you, obviously caught in your staring.

Having no shame, you just rolled your eyes at him, blowing him a kiss from where you were. Being the drama queen he was, he pretends to have been shot, hands flying to his chest and staggering back as his face contorts into one of fake pain.

So you just shot him a middle finger and he sends you a finger heart back, having the audacity to smile at you as if he wasn’t about to go into war over a pig skinned ball.

Three quarters later, you were sitting at the edge of your seat with the rest of the stadium. Jungkook played a little in the first quarter before sitting out the rest of the first half, saving all his energy for the second half when they switched to offense. With five minutes left in the game, the two teams were tied at 27 points each, enough time for another touchdown. Hell, that was enough time for you to walk all the way to your dorm, change pants, and walk back. But that also meant it was enough time for things to go very wrong very quickly. Jungkook had been playing for two quarters straight, never allowing himself to be taken off the field even when his coach told him to switch out with the secondary quarterback.

Jeon Jungkook: a stubborn kid.

As you watched him play by play, you could see how tired he was becoming from playing in the first quarter then for the whole second half. It was concerning, seeing him exert himself in ways you’ve never seen him do, but you knew he was capable of doing so. Jungkook was competitive, anyone could tell that much, but from what you could see, this was more than a competition, it was a challenge. A chance to prove himself to himself. That’s what he was fighting for. Yeah a championship title would be great and all, but what he wanted, what he was really going after, was the belief and confidence in himself.

As his team pushes closer and closer to their endzone and the clock gets uncomfortably close to 0, you see him kick up the intensity a few knots. His yelling of the play is clearer and more intuitive, even the way his body was placed seemed to be tighter but focused. And you realize why. Because this is the playoffs, there can’t be a tie, however, because there is one now, there’s only one solution: overtime. And if the two teams go into overtime, the coin toss is done again and it’s sudden death. And that means Jungkook has a very high chance of not being on that field which is bad. Very bad.

Because Jungkook is their best shot at winning. But he can’t win for them if he’s not on the field.

His mother seemed to have noticed this too, glancing over at you and taking your shaking hand into her own to provide comfort, but it wasn’t working. As he called the play and carried through the snap, you could tell from the get go that this play was going to end badly. There were too many pockets to be a coincidence; no defense was going to leave that many receivers open when they’re crucial right now. And you didn’t understand until you see Jungkook get tackled by three of the biggest players you’ve ever seen. And he didn’t get up.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, panic spiking in your chest as the athletic trainers and the medic on site rushed over to where he lay right on the 15 yard line, unmoving. You watched as they talked in hushed whispers, alternating your focus on him and his coach in front of you to get a grip on the situation. Trying to focus on something, anything that wouldn’t spike your blood sugar, you thought of ways to throw yourself over the connecting boundary to get to him, to tell him it’s okay to stop now and be tired.

He stayed down for what felt like hours but you knew it was only seconds until they were helping him on his feet and guiding him back to the benches where his coach called a timeout. As he was making his way there, he caught your eyes, letting you breath out a long held sigh of relief that he was okay. Then it was right back to panicking because when he smiled at you, you saw the glint in his eyes. The unmistakable glint that made your stomach do summersaults but made your heart hurt because that glint could only mean one thing. That fucker was going to force his way back onto the field.  

Gulping, Jungkook took his spot at the center in what you knew was going to be the last play until the refs called overtime. They could do it, you knew they could. Jungkook had some of the best players in front of him with only 15 more yards from the endzone. Those were very generous odds.

You were chewing on your nail in nervousness, thumbing the edge of the jersey, his jersey. His number felt cold on your back even though you were in a temperature controlled stadium but you found yourself sweating as he called the play and caught the ball from the snap. You saw a pocket right away, Alex being wide open right in the middle of the endzone and as Jungkook was winding up to throw, time seemed to slow down. A defensive tackle did his job and closed the pocket. Your throat closed up as your boyfriend was down to seconds with no other option but to run it. So, in a split second decision, he fakes the pass and doges a linebacker with practiced precision, everyone in the stands, including you, jumping to their feet as he begins weaving his way through and around the players on the field.

3, 2, 2.5, 2.01, 1-

“And Jeon Jungkook completes the touchdown with 0.3 seconds to spare! University of Michigan wins the 2017 NCAA College Football Playoff National Championship!”

The cheers that follow are deafening but they didn’t come unwelcome. You will admit, you were speechless for a couple of seconds until you were overwhelmed with joy and relief, screaming and cheering with his parents. Taehyung runs down beside you and screams as well, exchanging hugs with his second parents and you in unprecedented happiness.

The rest of the team and their coaching staff run towards Jungkook who was already running towards them, the rush of adrenaline kicking in as they all yelled and jumped and celebrated with each other. Seeing the guards walk to the gates of the field, you run there yourself to be the first one let onto the field.

“Where the fuck is he- Jeon Jungkook!,” you yelled, seeing him almost right away from where he was being huddled and surrounded. Turning towards your voice, his smile overtook his face as he met your eyes. You couldn’t help yourself and broke into a sprint towards him, his arms already outstretched, ready to catch you.

And catch you he did. You wrapped your arms around his sweaty neck and he lifted you up, locking your ankles around his waist and his hands under your thighs, and spinning you around him circles as if playing a two and a half hour game didn’t absolutely drain him.

“You did it baby,” you all but yelled, squealing as spun you around even more. Not letting you down, you took both hands away from his neck, trusting him not to let you fall, and went to undo his helmet, removing it to find a face filled with sweat and hair and smiles.

You held his face in your hands as you brushed his sweat-laced hair from his bright eyes feeling as if it were only the two of you in this sea of people.

“I did it because you believed in me,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against your elevated on, “I did it because you always told me I could and tonight I needed to see that for myself.”

You never understood how people could say things without saying them; the theory was just something you couldn’t wrap your head around. But looking at Jungkook with that boyish smile of his that made your heart melt and those eyes that seemed to sparkle with pride and love under the stadium lights, feeling Jungkook all around you in faces of his teammates and the air your were breathing, you seemed to understand how one could say things without saying them. Because once your lips found his, you managed to say one thing and one thing only.

I wish for a lifetime of happiness with you, Jeon Jungkook.

a/n: okay so storytime this literally only took three days to write. All 8.5k which is crazy because I don’t even write that fast for my regular works. The power of quarterback!jeon everyone

From the moment you drifted into consciousness, everything felt wrong. It was like an overwhelming sense of dread loomed over your entire being, sitting an uneasiness in the pit of your stomach you couldn’t quite place. You briefly began to wonder how long you’d been unconscious for, or more importantly, why you had been unconscious in the first place. Your memories and overall being were fuzzy, little recollection of your past, barely aware of who you even were. It was then that you finally decided to open your eyes, and everything was still far beyond wrong.

Darkness. Nothing but darkness hung over you as you stared up into oblivion. In your disoriented state, you started to realize that you were laying down. When you began sitting up, the orientation of your surroundings was incomprehensible. You placed your hands on the ground besides you, except–  there was no ground. Only nothingness. It was as if you had been laying on a nonexistent surface, the blackness surrounding you consuming you from every angle.

You looked down at yourself, you could see your body. It was as if a spotlight was shining on you, yet there was no source for this light. It just appeared to… be there. You held your hand up and flipped it around a few times, studying it as if it weren’t your own. How could you see yourself in this tomb of darkness, with seemingly no light source?

“Finally, I thought you’d never wake up.”

The voice that startled you jolted through your body– it was cold and icy, but also deep and sultry. You spun around so quickly you almost fell on your face, using your hands to brace yourself against the absence of flooring beneath you.

The man you were faced with was, for lack of a better word, stunning. His facial features were just as sharp as the suit he was wearing– all black with seemingly out of place delicate gold flower patterns adorning the jacket. His hands which were folded in front of him sporting several large jeweled rings, and two simple black studs were pierced through each of his earlobes. Blonde hair, flat and unstyled, fell over his face to just barely cover his eyebrows, which were dark enough to be seen through the pale, unnatural appearing hair. From your position on the floor, where he stood only a few short steps away, you could clearly see his eyes which were intensely boring into your crumpled figure on the floor. They were certainly his most distinguishing feature.

Gazing down at you, were dark orbs of nothingness.

Once you came to your senses and scrambled to your feet, your were taken back by the way the unnamed man, or thing, seemed to laugh at your actions.

“Where the fuck am I? What’s going on?” You interrogated, taking a few precautionary steps back to put some distance between yourself and the mysterious being before you.

“Wow, no formalities with you, sweet cheeks?” A grin spread across his face, wide and bearing slightly pointed, bright white teeth. “I guess it’s up to me for the introductions. I’m Taehyung.” He extended a hand towards you, but you just stared at it, making no attempts at shaking it with your own. Realizing you weren’t going to be meeting his offered hand, he curiously tilted his head to the side as he studied your actions. In too much shock to properly think of a better response, you tentatively opened your mouth to tell him your name as well.

“I’m–”

“I know who you are, Y/F/N.” He cut you off before your soft, broken voice could get out more than a single syllable, catching you off guard to the point you almost stumbled backwards onto the floor. Your mouth opened again, ready to spit out more questions you doubted he’d answer, but he was quick to beat you once again.

“Did you remember your name? I’ll have to admit, I’m surprised. Most don’t.”

As if you weren’t confused before, now your head was absolutely spinning. Of course you remembered your name, what kind of person didn’t know their own name? You dug deeper into your own thoughts and realized that aside from your name… you didn’t know much else. You couldn’t recall your age, where you were from, any sort of memories of friends or family… it was like you barely remembered… existing.

Taehyung must have been able to read the confusion on your face, the daunting realization you were unsure of who you even were, so he chose to speak up again.

“Hate to be blunt, but you are not faring well in the mortal world, Y/N.” He took two steps forward as he spoke, testing the waters to see if you’d mirror him and move back. You didn’t, so he went on. “You have been in an accident, a car accident specifically. Doctors are currently unsure if you will survive the trauma which your brain has sustained, which is why you have woken up here. With me.

We are in purgatory.”

Had you been in any other realm, you probably would have fainted at the words your brain was so very desperately attempting to process. An accident? Brain trauma? 

Purgatory?

“I’m dead?” The words fell from your lips before you could even properly think them over. You weren’t sure if that was a question you even wanted the answer to. He gave you no more than a shrug in response, looking down at the floor as he tried to think of his own reply.

“I guess. For now. But time works different here than in your world, my dear. Which means we can chat for a bit and decide if things are going to stay that way, sounds good?” The grin he fronted contradicted the meaning behind his words; the promise of life or death.

“Who… Wh… What, are you?” Your voice was hoarse, you wondered how long you’d been unconscious for here in this… this space you were stuck in. You were pleasantly surprised he actually let you ask the question without further interruptions.

He chuckled, almost as if he was amused by your cluelessness.

“God and Satan are busy men, my dear. When mortals like you are coming to their end, when we are unsure of where to send them, the higher ups sometimes let my kind and the angels help with those decisions. I am a demon, and one of Satan’s finest, at that.”

Your eyes immediately narrowed, and you weren’t sure if it was out of mistrust, or confusion. He seemed intrigued by your facial expression, prompting you to voice another one of the many thoughts running through your head.

“Come on, sweet cheeks, spit it out.”

“I… How is it not known whether or not I’m going to heaven or hell by the time I’m on my deathbed?” You were never a very religious person, but something like this seemed black and white. If you’re good and pure, you go to heaven. If you’re a sinner, you go to hell.. right?

“Oh darling, it’s not that simple at all. If you were wanted by either side, I would have no job here.” He spoke as if it were the most obvious thing in the whole world. He stepped closer to you, close enough that he had to tilt his head downward to make eye contact now– if you could even call staring into those voids of darkness, “eye contact”.  

“That’s the whole point here, don’t you see? You either prove yourself to be worthy enough to sent back to the mortal world, or at the very least worthy enough to be sent up to heaven.” You hadn’t realized how close he was until you felt his hot breath, funneling each world directly into your ear. Until you smelled him– he smelled of no cologne a human would wear, but a very distinct scent was still there. Metallic, bitter in a way, almost strong enough to burn your nostrils.

Blood.

“I… have another question,” you managed to squeak out. He was intimidating you at such a close proximity, and if that was his intention, it was working quite well.

“I’m all ears, doll face,” he breathed, turning his head to look deeply into your eyes once again, your faces now mere inches apart.

“Why… why am I with you, a demon? Why not an angel?” You tried to choose your words carefully. Who knew what could tick off a demon literally spawned from hell? “Am I leaning more towards hell rather than heaven?”

He chuckled, deep and hardy, the laugh somehow seeming to echo through your surroundings despite the lack of walls for the soundwaves to bounce off of. He made no effort to hide the smirk tugging at the corners of his smooth, pink lips.

“I can be… persuaded.”

You gaped at him, knowing exactly where he was going with this but unsure of how to… approach it. The tip of his tongue darted out from his lips, ghosting over the bottom one as his eyes scanned over your face (or at least, you thought that’s what they were doing). He leaned in closer again, pressing his mouth to the shell of your ear.

“You don’t think I know about your sins already, princess?”

You couldn’t deny, the hell demon standing before you was jaw-droppingly gorgeous, human or not. The way his black eyes pierced right through you, his inviting lips which he kept biting at with his tauntingly sharp teeth.

“Are you calling me a sinner?” you breathed, hoping your words wouldn’t come out too weakly and you could at least attempt to maintain a front that you weren’t somewhat scared of the being before you. Taehyung clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment as he reached a strong, veiny hand up to cup your neck. His hands were warm, and contrast to what you expected, goosebumps rising all over the skin down your neck and shoulders from his touch. You could feel the icy metal of his rings where they pressed into your skin.

“I wouldn’t be calling you one if I didn’t already know the things you’re capable of, darling.”

With his last words he pulled you in closer, close enough to finally press your lips together. You eyes immediately fell shut, his overpowering, unearthly presence overwhelming all of your senses. You didn’t resist the kiss, in fact, quite the opposite. You longed for it; longed to taste him, to feel him, to please him.

The kiss was brief, nowhere near as deep as you would have liked it to be. When he pulled back he looked over every inch of your face, almost appearing… concerned?

“This is okay?” he whispered, thumb gently stroking the skin of your neck as he caressed it. You couldn’t help the small smile that broke across your face, a giggle even escaping from your lips.

Who knew demons from hell cared about consent?

“Yes Taehyung, this is great,” you breathed, affirming him verbally this was alright. You liked the way his name rolled off of your tongue.

The whole situation was truly absurd in every sense of the word, quite difficult to believe. Maybe this was all just some sort of fever dream, a side effect of a coma or the trauma you’d gone through. Maybe they had you on some drugs with strange side effects in the hospital. Despite trying to tell yourself this had to have been a dream, everything about the beautiful man before you felt too real; his smell, his warmth, the taste of his mouth that still lingered on your lips. You were just getting started yet every part of you was already craving more. He gave you that same devilish grin at your consent, but this time it seemed to have a more playful edge.

“Good, then shall we move this to somewhere more comfortable?” With his words a hand dropped down to your waist, leading you back several steps to where a grand, king sized bed had appeared behind him. It looked like something out of a vintage styled master bedroom, with deep red silk sheets, the color matching the way he smelled. Not bothering to wonder where the bed came from (Well, what was the point? You still barely had any understanding of the mystical realm you were even in.), you followed suit as he sat down on the edge of the mattress. He spread his legs to widen his lap, a comfortable seat for you to take as you were guided to straddle him.

“Now… where were we?” he mused, ghosting his hands over your sides and up to the back of your shoulders. He drew you in again, and this time the kiss he went in for was much deeper. You hummed lowly against his mouth as his hands threaded their way into the hair at the base of your neck, gripping it loosely. Enough to hold you there, but not enough to hurt. The kiss grew sloppy quickly, but neither of you seemed to mind. Your tongues ran against one another in perfect sync, teeth occasionally clacking from the open-mouthed nature of the kiss. You were sure at one point when he daringly nibbled at your bottom lip, his much sharper teeth managed to draw blood. You gasped at the light stinging pain, hand reaching up to feel if he had actually broken skin. Taehyung chuckled to himself, sometimes forgetting mortals were fragile.

“Don’t worry love, I’ll get that.” He leaned in, swiping his tongue against your chin and bottom lip. After he collected the thick liquid into his mouth, swallowing it down as if it were the sweetest honey, he attached his mouth back to yours, pressing his tongue into your mouth so you could taste the metallic substance for yourself. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning into his mouth at the action, and you shifted your hips, angling them to push down into his crotch. You could feel his erection straining against his suit pants, and even through the layers of fabric you could feel how large he was.

“Isn’t this supposed to be me proving myself?” you questioned, pulling back from the kiss to look at him as he groaned from the light friction between your hips.

“I guess you’re right sweet cheeks, that it is.” Taehyung’s voice sounded more strained than before, proof to you that he was getting more worked up than he’d like to lead on. You moved to get up off of his lap, and his hands fell from where they were still situated behind your neck onto his thighs. You sank down to the ground, rubbing a hand over his tented crotch and palming him harshly. As you looked up at him, you gave your head a slight tilt and batted your eyelashes up at him.

“You are quite the vixen,” he breathed, reaching out to grab your jaw between his fingers. He studied your face, his black eyes making his gaze appear all the more threatening. You simply shrugged in response, practiced hands making quick work of his belt and pants buttons. Once unzipped, you pulled at the waistband of his boxers to dip your hands into the warmth, and when you finally made contact with his erection he hissed the tiniest bit at how cold your hands felt. He watched in amusement as you pulled out his impressive member, loving the ways he could see your pupils visibly blow out.

“Go on then, I know you know what you’re doing,” he encouraged, a hand tangling it’s way back into your hair. It wasn’t rough, in fact maybe even more so comforting as you could feel his fingers gently massaging your scalp. You certainly didn’t need to be told to go twice, leaning in to tease your tongue against his slit as one of your hands settled around the base of his wide girth.

With your mouth finally on him, his grip in your hair tightened. You didn’t mind– he probably knew that. He didn’t hold back the low moans spilling from his mouth as you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, sinking down right away to feel the hot heaviness on your tongue. You closed your eyes and moaned around him, wanting him to know he wasn’t the only one enjoying this experience. As you began bobbing your head, twisting your hand and stroking to meet your mouth were you couldn’t fit him without straining yourself, he made no efforts to control you. He held onto you, but didn’t try to use you to fuck himself with your mouth. You were skilled, he was more than aware, and he purely wanted you to show him exactly what you were capable of.

“Come on baby, I know you can take more than that.” His voice sounded more like a growl, heavy with lust. You fluttered opened your eyes to look up at him, his dark gaze seeming to have become impossibly more intense. You pulled off of his cock and let yourself take a few deeper breaths, knowing if you were going to purposely gag yourself you should properly have some air in your lungs first.

“Yes sir,” you purred as you leaned back in, hollowing your cheeks as you dove in once again. You noticed he raised his eyebrows a bit at the name, but you didn’t let your eyes linger on his face as you closed them once again. Sinking down as far as you could, you didn’t think your mouth had ever been so stretched open before. He was thick along with his impressive length, and for once you thought maybe you were faced with a cock that you wouldn’t be able to take in all the way even with your deep throating abilities. The head of his cock hit the back of your throat and you breathed in through your nose as you kept pushing, going maybe an inch further before you began choking around him. The deep groan you received in response was nothing short of encouragement, only pulling away the slightest bit before going back down even further.

There was just something about the feeling of choking on cock that made you feel so… empowered. It was a weird way of giving yourself up to someone, sort of self degrading even, but knowing how good it made the other party feel was truly exhilarating. The beautiful sounds falling from Taehyung’s lips, he was practically melting under you as you forced yourself to go further down onto him.

“Holy fuck, do you know how good you look with a cock in between those pretty lips, princess?”

That. That was what you loved about choking on cock.

You opened your eyes again, but this time it was more difficult as there were tears threatening to spill over at any second. Looking up at his face, he was just as sweaty and unkempt as you hoped he’d be. It was like you had all the power in the world right now as he unravelled beneath you. You squeezed and twisted your hand at the base of his shaft, still unable to swallow around his whole length despite your best attempts. Your hand seemed to be sufficient compensation, pulling your head back several times to fuck your own throat with his cock. His head fell backwards, the grip on your hair tightened even more, and you knew you were doing everything right.

After a few more moments of repeating the same actions which he seemed to be enjoying the most, you were startled when he roughly pulled you off of him by your hair. You gasped for air, not even realizing you had been depriving yourself of it for a little too long.

“I don’t wanna cum before we get to the fun stuff, doll face.” His breathing had grown heavier, slightly labored as he spoke. Your stomach swelled with pride and arousal, knowing it was you who had that effect on him.

“And what would ‘the fun stuff’ be?” You reached a hand up to wipe some spit off of your face, and he guided you back up towards the bed as you did so. Once you were up on your feet, he nudged you onto the bed until you were properly sitting back on it.

“Why tell you, when I can just show you?” Taehyung hummed with his words, and now it was his turn to stand as he began undressing himself. He undid the buttons on his patterned suit jacket, discarding it onto the floor. As he got to work on the buttons of his black dress shirt, his eyes hungrily raked over your body.

“Why don’t you get a little comfy too, sweet cheeks,” he prompted as his dress shirt fell to the floor alongside his jacket. Taehyung’s body was toned, shoulders broad and well proportioned to his slim waist. Nothing overly impressive, but a sight you didn’t mind looking at nonetheless. His skin was pale, but you figured demons from hell probably didn’t get much sunlight. Once you were done admiring his beauty, you sat yourself up to make quick work of tugging your own shirt over your head. You tossed it off the bed, assuming it would meet up with Taehyung’s clothes in a haphazard pile on the floor that could be dealt with later. By the time you had looked at him again his pants and underwear were both gone as well, leaving him standing before you fully showing everything he had to offer.

“Look at you,” he breathed, back onto the bed within one stride. You were still in your bra and pants, but that didn’t stop him from looking at you with dark eyes that appeared to be filled with nothing but lust.

He reached for the waistband of your pants, but halted his actions and glanced up at your for further permission. It seemed almost trivial to you the way he kept seeking consent, yet somewhat endearing at the same time. You were under the impression with all he had alluded to earlier that this was well, definitely going to happen. Still, here he was, checking on you every step of the way to make sure you were both on the same page. Not exactly stereotypical 'demon’ behavior, as far as you would ever imagine.

Once you gave him a nod of approval he was quick to pull your pants and underwear both down in one swift motion, while at the same time you reached back to unclip your bra and discard that article as well. With the both of you completely nude, after tossing your last bit of clothing to the floor he moved up the bed to hover over you.

“Gorgeous,” he simply breathed, his scent washing over you as he spoke. He looked down at your now entirely exposed body in full, drinking up every inch of you as if he were committing it to memory for himself.

“Not too bad yourself,” you were quick to reply, enjoying the cocky smirk you received in response to the comment. You cupped his jaw and brought his face down closer to yours, connecting your lips once more and savoring the feeling of your mouths moving against one another. Your lips parted when you were startled by the feeling of two large hands gripping your breasts, massaging them with with gentle pressure. At the given opportunity Taehyung snuck his tongue past your parted lips, earning a moan from you in response while you slid your own tongue back against his. It was foreignly intimate, the languid way your tongues tangled as he rolled your breasts in his hands with great care.

These repeated actions went on for what had to have been full minutes, your hands caressing over the dips and curves of his own well sculpted body as he did the same to yours. His knees bumped between your legs to spread them a bit further apart, and you bent them up to give him greater access.

“You know darling,” when he finally broke the kiss to speak, you both sounded as though you were already out of breath. “I would love to get a proper taste of your beauty but,” he reached a hand up, ghosting his fingers over the small cut in your lip he had accidentally inflicted earlier. “I’m not sure that’s a risk I should take unfortunately.” He chuckled lowly, pressing two fingers in to your mouth and running them against your tongue. You were quick to respond, wrapping your lips around his digits obediently and greedily sucking on them to slick them up with your own saliva. Taehyung groaned at your eager response, shutting his eyes and tilting his head down to look away.

“And you questioned why a demon was assigned to you?” He sounded like he was talking more to himself, muttering under his breath with light amusement in his tone. You couldn’t help but smile around his fingers, reaching up to grab his hand and pull them out of your mouth with a lewd pop. You couldn’t possibly be bothered in that moment to wonder how a system of demons and angels meeting mortals in purgatory was really supposed to work, but maybe that was something you could reflect on at a later date if you didn’t make it back to earth. For now you were much too distracted by the erection being pushed against your thigh, Taehyung appearing as if he was on the verge of rutting against your leg if he didn’t get inside of you soon.

He brought his long fingers down in between your legs, making sure to trace some of your wetness in a trail down your body to make you shiver as he went. Clearly he wasn’t in the mood for teasing, catching you off guard and diving his two spit soaked fingers directly into your entrance. You gasped sharply, but he was quick to lean back up to your mouth and swallow up all the wonderful sounds you began eliciting as his fingers pumped in and out of you with little to no mercy.

“I know you can take it.” He practically growled against your mouth, just causing your moans to grow even louder. He was relentless, fingering you with the sole intention of opening you in preparation for his impressively sized cock and less so your own pleasure. You weren’t concerned though, he was right. You certainly could take it, and did find some enjoyment in his actions despite the roughness.

The kiss you shared had grown even sloppier, this time however Taehyung seemed to hold himself back more than he’d prefer now in hesitancy of his sharp teeth. He indulged in the way your pretty moans came out in endless waves, and you were able to tell from the way he smirked into the kiss with the more sound you made. He didn’t waste time and as soon as he felt you were ready enough he was adding a third finger– a step of preparation you didn’t think you usually needed but he… may have been an exception.

“Think you’re gonna be able to handle me, princess?” He pulled back from the kiss, panting, enjoying the sight of you falling to pieces beneath him as his fingers curled and scissored inside of you.

“I think you and I both know well enough I most certainly will be able to handle you.” You sounded as if you were almost challenging him, daring him to really show you what he had to offer just to prove you could take it. To your pleasure, he actually hadn’t dropped the word 'slut’ in any earlier conversation, but he did unsurprisingly seem to be hyper aware of your promiscuity back at home. Not that you were complaining, of course. Taehyung raised his eyebrows, suddenly pulling his hand out of you and using it to grab one of your legs and push it towards your chest.

“We’ll just see about that, won’t we?” And with that, he was inside of you. It was such a quick, sharp, smooth motion, it in itself was a reminder to you that the being you were messing around with was not one from your world. You cried out into the void around you, the sound once again illusively echoing off of your nonexistent surroundings. Taehyung seemed pleased with your reaction, watching your face closely as you adjusted to the feeling of his large member filling you up. He slung your one leg over his shoulder, effectively keeping you in a position where you knew that the moment he began moving he’d be hitting your g-spot dead on.

“What’s the matter, darling? Cat got your tongue?” He nuzzled his nose against your jawline, the action much too sweet to match the lust-filled implications behind his words.

“Yeah… yeah something like that,” you managed to choke out, tightly gripping his biceps as he shifted the tiniest bit over you, the movement causing another shamefully loud moan to escape your lips. Taehyung was loving every second of this, entertained by the reaction he was getting out of you.

“Well? Come on then,” you prompted through a grunt. The tip of Taehyung’s tongue poked out in amusement at the way you were still trying to keep up such a confident facade, when he had every intention of absolutely destroying you.

“As you wish.”

You had expected him to be just as ruthless as he had been with his fingers, preparing yourself for him to pull out and snap his hips back with such force he’d have you screaming. However he only pulled out slightly, maybe not even hallway, rocking back into you shallowly and starting up a gentle pace. He was hitting your g-spot, just as you had anticipated, but with the lack of force behind each thrust not much more than a dull warmth curled in your stomach. That was exactly what he was going for though, ready to work you up slowly so the orgasm that would rip through you once he finally picked up the pace would be absolutely explosive.

“Holy fuck Taehyung, you feel so good,” you moaned, your head falling back against the mass of pillows behind you. He grinned, one hand tightly gripping your hip while the other held onto the leg he had over his shoulder. With every thrust you felt fuller than you’d ever been in your whole life, just wishing he’d speed up the tiniest bit, enough so you could work up to a climax you were craving so deeply.

“You look so pretty doll face, I knew you’d look even prettier when I filled you up with my cock.” Taehyung was panting his words, burying his face in your neck and mouthing at your skin as he continued to fuck you.

He kept up that pace for a while, almost sweetly slow as if his soul intent was making you feel good for as long as possible. You tangled your fingers in his blonde locks, surprised by the softness of hair appearing such an unnatural color. Did demons bleach their hair? Was that a thing? You were too preoccupied to care.

There was something about having sex with Taehyung that made him different than any other partner you’d ever been with. You felt strangely connected to him– maybe it was simply because he wasn’t human, controlling and manipulating you in ways only a demon could, or maybe it was because he already had an understanding of you you were barely able to comprehend. The innocent human side of you preferred to believe the latter.

Taehyung brought you out of your thoughts when he decided it was time to switch things up, leaning back and grabbing your other leg to also bring that one over his shoulder as well.

“Ready, sweet cheeks? Because once I start, I’m not going to hold back.” You found it almost comical in a way that he considered all of the pleasure he’d already indulged you in as not yet 'starting’, because you certainly got your own fair share of enjoyment from the lazy sex you had been enjoying with his face pressed into your neck.

“Ready? Of course I’m ready, I’ve been waiting.” The same grin you were beginning to recognize splayed across his face, and you took some pride in knowing he found your sassy nature amusing. Instead of responding, without another word he pulled his hips almost all the way back, then slamming into you with even more force than he had when he first pressed into you. This time when you cried out you tightly gripped his hair, which earned a hiss from him but he appeared to enjoy it too. That was when Taehyung became merciless, giving you no time in between as he pulled back out and repeated the same forceful thrusts. Now, with the way he held your legs and his new change in pace, the pounding against your g-spot was dizzying. Your back began arching off of the bed from the intense pleasure, but he was quick to adjust his hold on your legs to press you down flat, practically folding your body in half as he slammed into you.

“Come on princess, stay still and take my cock like a good girl,” he grunted, emphasizing his works with every sharp thrust. The heat in your stomach was building much too quickly, and you knew it wasn’t going to be long before you were cumming with the rate he was going at.

“F-Fuck, fuck I’m gonna cum.” Your words were strained, a struggle to get out though your heavy breaths and moans. As if on queue, he reached a hand down in between your legs, thumb going straight to your clit.

“That’s a good girl. Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock.” That was all it took, his words combined with the pressure on your clit and you were cumming around his cock as a white hot orgasm ripped through your entire body. As you came you moved your hands down to dig your fingernails into the skin of his biceps, and you could feel how hot your face got, burning as you saw spots in your vision. Your entire body was trembling as each wave of pleasure coursed through you, and with every hit of his cock on your g-spot it was like a new wave summated, intensifying the orgasm. Taehyung continued to fuck you through your high, not faltering for a second until he noticed your body begin to relax again and you stopped clenching around him. He slowed his pace yet maintained his force, fucking you deeply until he was on the edge of finishing himself off.

Taehyung pulled out, taking the hand that he’d used on your clit and wrapping it around his own slick length. Within a few fast strokes, his hot seed was shooting out onto your torso. You watched in fascination as he painted himself all over you, his head falling back as the most beautiful moans you’d ever heard fell from his lips. You were still in a sort of daze from your own orgasm, barely noticing when he flopped down at your side, slinging an arm over your chest.

Now that he wasn’t hovering over you, you were faced with so much nothing in the space above you looking at it almost made your head hurt. It was like being in a room where the ceilings were so high you got overwhelmed, except this time there wasn’t actually a ceiling there. Save for your unusual surroundings, if you just focused on the being besides you, and not the fact that he wasn’t human, everything about this almost felt… right. Taehyung laying next to you, pulling you closer into his sweaty chest for a post sex cuddle, his eyes having fallen shut as he nuzzled into your shoulder. You reached a hand up to thread through his messy hair, petting him gently as you two laid next to each other in a comfortable silence. After a few minutes, your own eyelids grew heavy, and you were sure within minutes you would fall asleep in Taehyung’s arms.

“You know, I’m not supposed to get attached to mortals,” he began. His voice roused you but not enough to reopen your eyes. In fact, trying to open them the slightest bit, you realized even if you wanted to properly open them to look at him for some reason you couldn’t.

“And you’re not supposed to remember any of this unless we meet again at some point.” It was almost like there was something in his tone akin to disappointment. You wanted to say something, so many questions still reeling through your mind you still had never gotten the opportunity to voice to him. His voice was soothing, deep and gentle as it lulled you closer and closer to the edge of sleep.

“But… There’s something special about you, sweet cheeks.”

“Oh my god. She’s waking up. Someone get the doctor I think she’s actually waking up!”

The excited voice beside you only further disturbed what had felt like such a peaceful slumber, and after a few more seconds of rousing yourself your eyelids fluttered open. You were met with the sight of a sterile white hospital room filled with equipment you couldn’t possibly name if you tried, as well as several of your closest family members. None of them looked like they’d slept properly in days, deep bags under all of their eyes, new worry lines over some of their faces, yet all of their eyes held the same teary eyed hope as they watched you wake up. Your mother burst into tears and hunched over near your bedside as she sobbed, and combined with everyone else’s reactions to your awakening you wondered how long you could have possibly been out for.

Your memories had returned, such as those of your past, but a lot was still fuzzy. You recognized now however that you had a better sense of who you were, and you knew that the world you had returned to must have been the right one.

Once your mother had composed herself, her and the rest of your family began explaining what had happened, the accident, the induced coma you had been in for over a week now. It was all quite alarming, as you had very little recollection of the actual events of the accident and absolutely none of everything after. But that was all the past now, as clearly all your family cared about was the fact that you’d actually woken up and remembered who they were.

“Oh honey, you had us all so scared,” your mother sighed with a small shake of her head, fondly reaching over to move a loose strand of hair out of your face. She studied your features for a moment, quizzically tilting her head to the side.

“Has this always been here?” Her delicate fingertips brushed over your bottom lip, and you were sure your eyes widened as you reached your own hand up to run your fingers over the small cut in your delicate skin.