Floscorde - Be A Lover - Tumblr Blog

crazy; jjk (m)

summary you know it sounds twisted. that most people would see hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. that’s when you realized... you weren't like most people. but that's okay. because neither is jungkook.

pairing ceo!jk x employee!(f)reader

rating 18+ minors dni; smut, fluff, angst

genre coworkers to lovers au, established relationship

word count 15.5k

content jk 29 | yn 26, very jealous controlling and possessive jk, same for oc, spirited & bratty oc, jk is rich and spoils his girl, pet names, toxic relo, jk is a red flag, oc is a red flag, they’re obsessed w each other, bonnie n clyde ride or die type shit, soft yandere, drama, mc arguments, cursing, they get angry quick and over it quicker, bar fighting, jk punches a guy.. or two, blood, oc is roughly grabbed on arm by a male w/o consent, canon couple

warnings dom jk, sub oc, pre established traffic light sw system, daddy kink, consensual degradation, fingering (f rec), oral (f rec), cum eating, dirty talk, breeding kink, condomless p in v sex, oc has a birth control implant, multiple orgasms, creampie, kinda rough(?) sex but i think it ends quite softly, theyre dirty and in love!

a/n pls read all the warnings first & only proceed if ur comfortable!! these two are superr obsessively dependent and possessive so tread lightly baby 🙂‍↕️!! im kinda self conscious abt the smut but i like the fic part and i hope u do too <<3 lemme know if i missed any tags 🖤 mwah

There was something dangerous about him. Something you couldn’t help but be drawn to, no matter how much you knew you shouldn’t. It was like playing with fire—intoxicating, thrilling… stupid.

You knew it complicated things, maybe even made life harder, but you never had been one to back down from a challenge. And when someone like Jeon Jungkook—the kind of man who looked like pure trouble but made you feel more alive than you ever had—walked into your life, resisting him was never even an option.

It hadn’t always been like this. You used to date Park Hyungwon, after all.

Hyungwon was perfectly fine. Kind, sweet, thoughtful in all the ways that made him a good guy. The type who held open doors and asked if you wanted to split dessert. You’d met him through his cousin, Jimin—your colleague and an absolute angel on Earth. In fact, you ended up closer to Jimin than you ever were with Hyungwon.

Because Hyungwon? He was just… ordinary.

There was nothing wrong with ordinary. Some people needed that. They craved stability, predictability. But you? You realized a long time ago that you needed more. You craved intensity. You needed to feel like someone’s whole world. And when your boyfriend didn’t care who you were with, what you were doing, when he didn’t even notice if you went days without texting… well, you started to feel invisible.

You knew it sounded twisted. That most people would see Hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. Healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. But that’s when you realized... you weren’t like most people.

And then he entered the picture.

Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Jeon Corp, son of the late Jeon Jun-seo.

You’d been at Jeon Corp for three years now, starting as a temp and moving into a more permanent role. Everyone knew him—the young, ruthless leader who took over seamlessly and ran things with an iron grip after his father's passing. People admired him, respected him. Feared him.

It had been two years since you made it official with the man you knew was the epic love of your life. Before that, you were friends with benefits for—what, a week? Maybe less. You both knew right from the start that there was no going back to being just colleagues or fuck-buddies. He consumed you, and you reveled in every second of it.

In the early days of your relationship, you couldn’t help but worry. Maybe your promotion had less to do with your work ethic and more to do with Jungkook lusting for you. It was hard not to question it, especially when he was your boss, and you knew exactly how intense his desire for you was. But Jungkook shut that shit down fast.

He had hundreds of employees under him, most of whom he hadn’t even had a proper conversation with. He’d approached you solely because of your performance—your results catching his attention long before he even knew what you looked like. Jimin had confirmed it.

Still, you loved teasing him about it—how he’d basically been eye-fucking you the entire time during your first real meeting. Jungkook never denied it. He would just give you that cheeky, devilish grin of his, reminding you just how that meeting had concluded—with you, bent right over his desk.

Now, sitting at Lumi’s bar with the soft murmur of conversations and the clink of glasses fading into background noise, your phone buzzed with a new message. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, heat spreading through your veins as you read his words.

My Love 10:43 PM Why is your location off? Sent with Siri

10:43 PM Turn it on. Now. Sent with Siri

You bit your lip, already imagining the storm brewing inside him. He was driving, and now probably wasn’t the best time to mess with him. But you were still pissed. And the brat in you couldn’t resist poking him just a little more.

You 10:47 PM i'm out, my love.

His reply was immediate, almost before you even hit send.

My Love 10:47 PM Not in the mood baby. Turn it on

You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh as you took another sip of your drink. You could picture him now, pulling the car over, typing furiously with that adorable, frustrated frown. Oh, he was pissed—but that only made it more fun. You let him stew for a few minutes longer.

You 10:52 PM bad day at work? :(

His next texts came in a flurry, and you could almost feel the heat in them.

My Love 10:52 PM Why the fuck are you taking so long to respond? Who are you with?

10:53 PM You didnt tell me you were going out tonight and I just went all the way to your fucking house to find out you’re not even there? And your car’s gone? You drove to go out??? Are you fucking crazy?

His jealousy stoked a fire inside you. You knew better than to test his patience... but you just couldn’t help yourself.

You pulled up your camera and hit record. It started with your legs—crossed elegantly on the stool, the hem of your little black dress riding up just enough to tease. You let your foot swing, the glossy polish on your toes catching the dim light. The clip was short, but you knew Jungkook would recognize the bar in an instant.

Then, you flipped the camera. Your face came into view, framed by a pout and the neckline of your dress—the replacement for the one he’d ripped clean off you the last time some idiot tried to touch you. Jungkook had beaten the guy to a pulp, of course, which was why you were both banned from JaeJae's nightclub downtown. But you hadn’t cared then, and you certainly didn’t now.

Just before you stopped recording, you made sure the camera caught a glimpse of the arm next to you—the arm belonging to the guy who had been sulking since you brushed off his lame advances. You had been ignoring him ever since you walked in, but apparently, he was as clueless as he was underwhelming.

You hadn’t expected to be at this bar alone. In fact, you were supposed to be home with Jungkook tonight. He’d promised an early finish—four o’clock, to be exact—and you’d planned a cute pamper night for the two of you. Face masks, cheesy rom-coms. You even baked cookies.

But then, three o’clock rolled around, and your phone rang. His voice on the other end was apologetic, practically rehearsed at this point. He had to stay late. Again. Not even just a little late—ten-fucking-thirty late. Two hours past his usual finishing time.

You were livid. He promised you tonight.

You hadn’t even let him finish his sentence before hanging up, ignoring the rapid flood of missed calls and texts as you angrily dumped the chocolate chip cookies in the trash.

You were so pissed you might’ve even made his assistant, Hoseok, cry when Jungkook sent him over to check on you. Poor guy. You’d apologize later. Maybe.

By the time 10:32 hit and your phone was still silent, that pit of anger in your stomach twisted into something much sharper. You pulled up the security cameras at his office—and, of course, the room was empty. His briefcase, his keys… all gone.

He had left work without even telling you.

He always texted you when he was leaving the office. You knew there wasn’t a chance in hell it was infidelity; that wasn’t even a possibility. Cheating wasn’t something either of you entertained. But the silence? The lack of communication? That cut.

Sure, you’d been ignoring his calls ever since he canceled on you… but you were allowed to be pissed right now. He? Was not.

When your doorbell camera alert went off at 10:42, right before you were about to check his location, you felt a mix of relief and annoyance rise in your chest. You pulled up the feed to see him standing there—frustrated, fist clenched around his phone, clearly ready for a confrontation.

But you weren’t home.

You were here, at this grimy, sticky bar. Waiting.

The guy next to you shifted in his seat again, breaking you out of your thoughts. He was still there, lingering, despite your obvious disinterest. But honestly, you were kind of glad he hadn’t left.

Because the response you got from Jungkook when you hit send on that video?

Absolutely fucking perfect.

My Love 10:55 PM I'll be there in five minutes.

10:56 PM And if there is anyone sitting next to you who doesn't have a cunt or the name Park Jimin, theyre fucking dead Y/N

10:56 PM And you’re fucking walking home

You suppressed a laugh as you wiped the sugary remnants of your drink from your lips, knowing better than anyone just how serious he was.

As much as you hated to admit it, you loved the way Jungkook loved you. His possessiveness didn’t bother you. In fact, it drove you wild. That definitely made you as much of a red flag as him. But did you care?

A few minutes passed as you took some selfies and uploaded them to your Instagram story, twirling the straw in your glass absentmindedly. Then you remembered the idiot next to you.

"Oh," you said, clearing your throat. He perked up immediately, pulling his beer away from his lips as he turned toward you, eyes lighting up in anticipation. Gross. "You might want to leave."

His smile faltered, confusion knitting his brow. "What?"

You blinked, tilting your head slightly as if he hadn’t just heard you. Leaning in closer, you repeated yourself. "I said, you might want to leave."

He chuckled, leaning in way too close, his breath hot and stale. “Why would I do that? Sitting next to a pretty thing like you? You look a little bored, baby… I can keep you entertained.”

You suppressed a gag. "Hard pass." You shuddered, pulling back. “But really, my boyfriend’s on his way, and he’s pissed. You might want to move down a seat or two.”

He just laughed, lifting his beer again and taking a long gulp, his eyes creepily never leaving yours. "I can handle myself just fine, sweetheart. It’s hot that you’re worried about me, though."

God. You’d never been drier in your entire life.

"Your funeral," you muttered, rolling your eyes as you turned back to your phone.

A few more minutes passed in silence, and just when you thought the idiot might’ve finally left you alone, you felt him shift again, turning toward you like he was about to start up another conversation. You sighed, not actually wanting to watch another guy get the shit beaten out of him. So, you grabbed your purse and your half-empty glass, ready to leave.

But just as you slid off the stool, his hand wrapped around your arm.

"Where are you going, baby?” His voice dripped with sleaze. “This playing hard-to-get thing was sexy at first, but now it’s getting kinda boring.”

Your stomach turned, and you yanked your arm from his grip, disgust curling your lip. "Eugh, could you be any more of a stereotypical douche? Get a fucking life."

You took a step to leave, but his hand clamped down on your arm again, harder this time.

“You’ve got a mouth on you, huh?” His voice dropped, and a sickening grin spread across his face as his fingers dug deeper into your skin. “That’s okay. I like ’em that way.”

Rage flared in your chest, hot and immediate. Without thinking, your hand swung forward, and the rest of your drink splashed across his smug face. His eyes widened in shock, the liquid dripping off his chin, but you weren’t finished.

Your free hand darted into the outer pocket of your purse, fingers wrapping around the pink pepper spray canister Jungkook bought for you. You whipped it out, aiming the nozzle directly at his face and pressed down hard.

“Fuck!” he screamed, stumbling back, hands flying to his eyes. But you didn’t let up. The adrenaline thrummed in your veins as you kept spraying, ignoring the yelps and curses spilling from his lips as he clawed at his burning face.

“You crazy fucking bitch! Stop!”

“God, you piece of shit!” you yelled, uncaring of the stares now fixed on you. “Don’t ever touch anyone when they don’t want you to! Fucking pig!”

The can felt significantly lighter by the time you finally stopped, and the guy was practically on his knees, whimpering. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the bartender waving security in your direction and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Typical. He’d been close enough to hear everything, but now he wanted to intervene?

“Cunt,” you muttered under your breath, slamming your empty glass on the bar before turning to leave.

“I’m going, I’m going,” you scoffed as the guard approached, adjusting your purse on your shoulder and smoothing down the hem of your dress. As you turned to walk away, you pulled out your phone, thumb hovering over Jungkook’s contact.

But before you could make it far, a heavy hand pressed into your back, shoving you toward the exit.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you snapped, stumbling as the security guard forced you forward. “I said I’m leaving. I’m just calling my boyfriend. Let go of me, freak—”

“Ma’am, don’t speak to me like that,” the guard growled, his voice deep and commanding. “Get outside, now.”

“I'm going, you big loof. Can you at least let me wait in the bathroom? If my boyfriend sees me standing outside alone, he’s gonna—”

"I don’t care what he’s gonna do to you, ma’am. Keep moving."

You almost laughed. "Do to me?" You were about to tell him how wrong he had it—that he should be the one worried—when suddenly, the hand on your back vanished. You stopped, brushing yourself off, ready to turn and gloat.

But it wasn’t your words that made him let go. It was Jungkook.

Your very angry boyfriend had shoved the guard—who was easily twice his size—backwards so hard the guy stumbled, nearly falling over.

Jungkook’s eyes were wild, flicking between you and the security guard, a dangerous mix of concern and pure rage.

"Oh, hi, baby—"

“Get in the car,” he growled, his voice low and deadly as he handed you his keys. “And lock the fucking doors. Now.”

His tone sent a shiver down your spine, and you bit back the urge to argue. Instead, you took the keys and turned toward the door, but the security guard wasn’t backing down.

"You and your bitch need to leave now," the guard snapped. "You’re banned from this bar."

Another one? You almost pouted, but he kept going.

"We have you on CCTV. If the victim presses charges, you’ll be contacted."

“What victim?” You laughed, taking a step toward the guy. “You’re gonna let that pig press charges?”

Jungkook’s head snapped toward you, jaw clenched, staying firmly between you and the goon. “What is he talking about? Who’s pressing charges?”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as you gestured toward the guy still rubbing his eyes with a bar towel, water dripping down his face. “That idiot. But it’s fine, baby. I finally got to use the pepper spray you gave me,” you added, poking Jungkook’s stomach with a giddy smile.

His lips twitched, but his expression stayed serious. “Why’d you have to use it?”

You shrugged, tilting your head, giving him that innocent look you knew drove him crazy. "He kept trying to touch me, but don’t worry, I handled it. Let’s go now, please."

But Jungkook’s gaze was already darkening, his eyes now fixed on the pathetic excuse of a man across the room. You could see the anger rising, feel the tension radiating off him, and you knew he was seconds away from losing his shit.

“Let’s just go, love,” you urged, voice rushing as you eyed the situation. “It’s over now.”

The security guard had disappeared to fetch backup, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the thought. The fact that he needed help dealing with Jungkook was almost laughable. Your man might not have been the biggest guy in the room, but you knew that shove must have rattled him, seeing as though the sidekick he'd now acquired was even bigger than he was.

And they were both stomping toward you.

You turned to warn Jungkook, “Baby—” but as your eyes shifted back to him, he was no longer at your side.

Your gaze snapped to the bar. There he was—storming up to the sleazebag still nursing his wet eyes with a towel, completely unaware that your furious boyfriend was closing in behind him. Ugh, he was like an angry, sexy bunny.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath, pushing past a couple of people and hurrying over as quick as you could in your three-thousand-dollar stilettos.

As turned on as you were by the sight of him right now, you really didn’t need him missing work tomorrow because he'd been locked up for the night.

And then you, of course, also missing work because you had to sleep in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to his cell, since the officers wouldn’t accept bail again until he had completed his twelve-hour minimum hold.

You were almost there when you saw it—Jungkook’s hand gripping the back of the guy’s collar, yanking him back with so much force that the idiot’s eyes flew open in shock, panic flooding his face as he realized what was happening.

You bit your lip, trying to shove away the image that popped into your head of Jungkook’s hand tangled in your hair, pulling you up in that exact same way when he had you beneath him, forcing your eyes on his as he drove into you from behind.

God, not now, Y/N.

“Koo, baby, wait—” you called, but it was too late. He was gone.

Before the guy could even think about pushing Jungkook off, your boyfriend slammed his head down onto the bar with a sickening crack that echoed through the room. You winced, feeling the pain in your own skull just by watching it.

“Fuckkkk,” you hissed, finally reaching him and grabbing his arm. His muscles were rigid, vibrating with barely controlled rage. “Baby, come on. Security is coming—let’s go—”

But your words didn’t register. Jungkook was in another world, eyes burning with an almost feral intensity as he jerked the guy back up.

Without hesitation, he reeled back and delivered a brutal punch to the guy’s face, the thud of knuckles against bone filled the space as the man’s head snapped to the side, his knees buckling as he collapsed to the floor in a heap.

You sucked your teeth in frustration. You couldn’t care less if the guy sat there on the ground and bled out, truly. What you did care about was the thought of Jimin covering your shift tomorrow because you had to spend the night bailing Jungkook out of jail again.

“Okay, my love, that’s good. Now let’s go—”

“Baby, go and—” Jungkook growled, his voice dangerous and low, as he lifted the guy again. His fist swung forward, colliding with the man’s nose, and you winced at the sharp crunch that followed. The guy collapsed again, shaky hands cradling his face as blood spurted from his mouth.

Jungkook’s head whipped around, his dark gaze locking onto you with a ferocity that sent a chill down your spine. “Go and get in the fucking car,” he snapped.

“No, you fucking idiot, come with me—”

Before you could finish your sentence, your feet were suddenly off the ground, the world spinning as you were slung over a massive shoulder. It took you a second to process what the fuck was happening.

"What the fuck!" you screamed, pounding your fists against the back of the goliath security guard who was carrying you like a sack of potatoes. Your purse fell to the ground as the guy just kept walking toward the exit like you were nothing. "Put me down, you fucking freak!"

Through your distorted, lopsided vision, you caught sight of the other, even bigger, guard heading for Jungkook while you were being dragged away.

The second your boyfriend saw what was happening to you, the loser he had been beating on was forgotten. His eyes locked on the guard manhandling you, and fury ignited in his expression.

The guard approaching barely had time to take a step before Jungkook threw him to the ground like he weighed nothing. His unbuttoned dress shirt sleeves exposed the veins in his arms, rippling as he stormed toward you with a look that promised murder. Yummy.

You were still smacking the back of the giant guard carrying you, panic creeping in as the door got closer and closer. "Baby, my purse!" you whined, halting your attack for a second and pointing to the ground. Jungkook was already stalking past it. "Pick it up!"

He grunted in frustration, turning on his heel to grab the fallen Prada before charging back after you. 

The guard reached the door just as Jungkook caught up, and you braced yourself for the moment you’d be tossed out like trash. But in one quick motion, Jungkook grabbed your outstretched hand and used his other hand to grab you by the bum, pulling you off the guard’s shoulder.

You beamed as he set you back on your feet, happily taking your purse from him while he just rolled his eyes. Then, he turned and sent his fist straight to the giant’s jaw. The guard actually stumbled backward, clearly feeling the weight of the hit, and for a brief moment, you thought it was over.

But then the bastard straightened up, cracked his neck like a fucking terminator, and stepped forward again, completely unfazed.

"What. The. Fuck," you seethed, your eyes widening in disbelief. You grabbed Jungkook’s hand, tugging him back, but he was already mirroring the guard’s steps, ready to go again.

"Nope," you muttered, wrapping your arms around his bicep and using every ounce of strength to drag him toward the door.

You knew he could easily overpower you, and you could feel the tension in his muscles as he debated it. But after a beat, he scoffed, shooting a final glare at the guard, who had stopped in place, phone in hand as he watched you haul Jungkook outside.

Probably calling the cops, taking down your registration—whatever the fuck. You could already imagine the panic on Jeon Co.’s PR team’s faces when they caught wind of this fuck fest of a night.

You finally let go of Jungkook’s arm when you got outside, your hand diving into your purse for his car keys. He followed close behind, silent but simmering with rage, as you both made your way to his car. It was parked right next to the entrance—definitely not in an actual spot—but he clearly didn’t care. He’d probably left it there to get to you faster.

As soon as the cold air hit your face and you and Jungkook were away from everyone, it’s like all your anger from earlier flooded right back.

You marched straight toward the driver’s seat, just wanting to get the hell out of there, but before you could reach for the door handle, Jungkook’s bruised hand snaked around your waist and pulled you back against him. He plucked the keys from your hand with ease, scoffing under his breath as he ushered you toward the passenger side.

"Give me the fucking keys, Jungkook—"

He let out a dark, humorless laugh. "First of all, you’ve been drinking. Don’t be fucking stupid. Second of all, why do you sound like you’re mad at me? I’m mad at you!"

"I had a fucking lemonade, I didn’t drink, you psycho!" you snapped, spinning on your heel to face him. "And, I’m sorry, mad at me?" You shoved his hand off your stomach and made a grab for the keys, but he slipped them into his pocket, resting his hand right over them like he was daring you to try.

"You’re the one who just went ape-shit and beat half the bar to a fucking pulp!"

"Don’t be dramatic," he rolled his eyes, leaning casually against the car like he hadn’t just trashed multiple people inside.

"You just fucking—"

He narrowed his eyes dangerously. "And why am I here in the first place, Y/N?"

"Oh, I don’t know," you snapped back, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Maybe because you’re a—"

You cut yourself off this time, catching the slight arch of his brows—just a fraction.

His head tilted, that infuriating smirk tugging at his lips.

"I’m a what, baby?" His voice was low, amused, taunting.

You squinted at him, but he just waited, utterly patient, like he had all the time in the world.

"I’m a what?"

Your eyes rolled to the sky in frustration, and you turned your back on him, yanking on the door handle in frustration. But of course, it was locked. You didn’t even bother looking back at him.

"Open the door, Jungkook."

"Sure," he jingled the keys in his pocket with infuriating calmness, "When you finish your sentence. I’m a what?"

You glared over your shoulder at him, biting back a snarl as your eyes raked down his stupidly gorgeous frame. Tousled hair, the top two buttons of his dress shirt sluttily popped open, bruised and bloody hands casually tucked into the pockets of his designer slacks. So fucking annoying.

"You," you started, eyes narrowing as you stepped back. "Are sleeping alone tonight." You punctuated it with a sarcastic smile before pushing off the car and storming down the street toward your own.

The second you started walking, you heard his footsteps trailing after you like a shadow. You just shook your head, your tone clipped as you bit out, "Go home, Jungkook. Your home. I’m sleeping at my own place tonight."

"Mm, and how do you plan on getting there?" His voice followed, calm—too calm.

"Hmm, take a wild fucking guess, genius," you snapped, diving back into your purse to grab your keys. But your hand came up empty.

"Mother fucker," you hissed, spinning around to find yourself face-to-face with his broad chest. You took a breath, glaring up at him. "Give me my keys."

"When you finish what you were saying," he replied lowly.

You scoffed, incredulous. "You’ll give me my keys and let me drive home if I finish my sentence?" You almost laughed in his face, knowing damn well he was full of shit.

"No," he shrugged, his honesty almost infuriating, "but I still want you to say it."

You groaned, exasperated. "Why is it so important to you—"

"Everything you say is important to me." His tone was unflinchingly direct. "And I want to know what you think of me."

For a split second, your heart tugged at his words, even as the anger bubbling in your chest fought to take over.

You weren’t mad at him for going in there and smashing that dirty sleaze’s head into the counter. You weren’t mad that he had taken on the Goliath twins like a reckless maniac with no concern for his own well-being.

You were mad because he lied to you.

"A liar." The words slipped from your lips, quiet but cutting, your eyes locking with his.

The flicker of pain that flashed across his gaze was immediate. He hadn’t been expecting that. He had braced himself for you to call him a possessive jerk, a jealous asshole, even a fucking loser. But not that.

"Baby," Jungkook swallowed, his beaten hands slowly gliding down to caress the sides of the dress he both loved and hated seeing you in. "I’m so sorry."

"Yeah," you nodded, rolling your eyes as you turned your head away just as he tried to lean down for a kiss. "Always are, huh?"

"Please, don’t," he sighed softly, his breath warm against your neck as his nose nuzzled into your skin. It was hard to believe this was the same man who had buried his fist into a guy’s jaw just five minutes ago. “I would never leave your side if I didn’t have to. You know that. You have to know that.”

"And you just had to stay back tonight of all nights?" Your words were sharp, cutting. "Couldn’t get one of your two fucking assistants to carry some of the workload? Or maybe that slut from level 7 who’s always begging to take some stress off her ‘big, hunky, hardworking boss?’"

Jungkook let out a low chuckle, nipping at your neck in amusement when you imitated Heejin’s voice. She hadn’t ever said anything quite that bold—obviously. You would’ve had him fire her on the spot if she had. But her lingering glances, the way she was always offering herself up for extra tasks, the way she hovered around… yeah, her actions spoke louder than words, and it made your blood fucking boil.

"Our board meeting ran way overtime, and they sprung last-minute critical amendments on us for the Cypher Project, baby," he mumbled into your skin, his lips brushing along the curve of your neck. "You know no one else could’ve handled it, or I would’ve been out of there."

"Okay." You nodded, lips pressing together as you let him kiss your neck for a while, but your mind was still racing.

"Okay?" he echoed in a hum, his mouth moving lower, pressing another soft kiss just above your collarbone. He sounded almost suspicious at how easily you seemed to be dropping the argument.

"Okay," you repeated, still letting him kiss you, your body slightly relaxing under his touch.

He hummed again, but then something clicked. No. This was too easy. You were never this quick to drop an argument. There wasn’t nearly enough groveling.

"Baby—"

Before he could finish, your hand shot into his left pocket, snatching the keys and shoving him you off with your other hand. He stumbled back, eyes wide with surprise as he barely caught his balance. You didn’t wait around to see him recover; you just turned and headed straight for your car.

Of course, he followed.

"Baby, come on—"

You didn’t stop, your pace quickening as you adjusted your handbag on your shoulder. "Nope. Don’t care."

"Baby, I'm fucking sorry."

"Uh-huh," you muttered, clicking the button to unlock your car before yanking the door open. He was right behind you, still trying.

“You’re not seriously leaving me right now, are you?”

You shot him a cold glance, leaning on the car door. “Yep. Maybe you should call Heejin—see if she’s free tonight. She can keep my side of the bed warm,” you spat, sliding into the driver’s seat.

His jaw ticked, tongue poking at the side of his cheek as he leaned back, letting you slam the door in his face. The engine roared to life, filling the thick silence between you two, but he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he nodded, something dark flashing in his eyes as his teeth toyed with his lip ring.

“You know I’m just gonna follow you, right?” His low voice carried through the glass, calm as ever.

You rolled your eyes, throwing the car into gear and pulling out of the lot.

But you weren’t the least bit surprised when, just a few moments later, you caught sight of his car pulling out right behind you.

He was home before you.

Not that you were surprised. You had gotten the doorbell alert two streets over, and it only made you scoff, your foot easing off the gas as you slowed down even more, wanting to make him wait. You had briefly considered going to Jimin’s for the night, but you knew better. Even though Jungkook had a soft spot for his assistant, there was no way in hell he’d let you sleep over at another guy’s house, and you weren't about to drag Jimin into that.

Sliding out of your car, you said nothing, grabbing your coat and purse from the passenger seat before locking it. Jungkook was already perched on your front doorstep, his head snapping up the second your tires crunched against the driveway.

“Baby, I need you to turn your location back on. I get it. You made your point—”

“Don’t start, Jungkook.” You sighed, your heels clicking against the stone steps as you brushed past him to unlock the front door.

You didn’t even bother closing the door behind you as you walked in, knowing he was right behind, the sound of it clicking shut as he locked it for you. Your purse and coat landed carelessly on the hallway table, and your fingers instinctively massaged the soreness creeping up the side of your neck. Without a word, Jungkook crouched down and slipped off your heels, lining them up neatly next to his shoes.

It was late, and the exhaustion that had been chasing you all night was finally sinking in. Your body ached, your mind was running on fumes, and all you really wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep. But something in the air told you that wasn’t happening any time soon. Whether it would be another argument, angry makeup sex, or another night of kicking Jungkook to the couch—only to lie sleepless for an hour before dragging his ass back to your bed—you weren’t sure yet.

Your steps were slow as you made your way to the bathroom, flicking the light on before leaning heavily against the sink. You cracked your neck, your eyes closing for a brief moment as the exhaustion took over.

You didn’t even flinch when Jungkook’s chest pressed against your back, his strong arms slipping around you as he reached for the faucet to wash his hands. The water ran pinkish, swirling down the drain as it cleared the blood and dirt from his knuckles, but you weren’t concerned. He knew how to throw a punch safely—years of boxing and training made sure of that. This was very mild compared to the damage he’d done in the early days of your relationship. Back then, you’d spent more time getting him unbanned from clubs than actually enjoying them.

He dried his hands slowly, taking his time before reaching for one of your hair ties on the counter. His fingers worked through your hair, gathering it into a loose ponytail.

You were far too drained to even consider pushing him away—not that you would’ve, even if you weren’t. Upset? Sure. But truly mad? Not really.

You knew exactly what you were getting into when you fell for a wildly successful, young CEO. Long nights, last-minute cancellations, missed plans—it was the nature of his world. Normally, you accepted it. But tonight had been different. Tonight was supposed to be one of the rare, precious evenings you finally had time to spend together after months of clashing schedules. You’d planned for it, gotten excited about it, and then… it was ruined. So, yeah, you were pissed.

But at the same time, you understood. The Cypher Project was monumental for Jeon Corp. Jungkook had poured nearly a year of blood, sweat, and no sleep into it. It was his baby, and only a handful of people were allowed anywhere near it—his assistants, his CCO, and you. This project mattered. But god, you missed him.

This, though? This was just typical Jeon Jungkook groveling. He’d pamper you, apologize at least a thousand times, buy you another bag or three, and then fuck you until you couldn’t remember why you were mad in the first place. The order of events varied; the bags sometimes took a day or two to arrive.

Once your hair was up, he gently spun you around and lifted you onto the bathroom counter. Your eyes remained shut as he moved between your legs, his long arms reaching for your skincare products. You didn’t have to tell him anything—he knew your routine better than you did at this point.

Before he got started, you cracked one eye open, just for a moment, grabbing his right hand and holding it softly in your lap. Your thumb traced over his knuckles, following the tiny splits. One was still bleeding slightly, while the other looked like it would be bruising by morning.

“Getting better, baby. Barely any blood this time,” you hummed, lifting his hand to your lips and pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles before closing your eyes again, waiting.

He smiled at that, though you couldn’t see it. The weight of the towel settled on your lap, and his hand left yours, resting lightly on your chest as he leaned you down, cupping warm water from the sink to wet your face. You stayed still, letting him move through the motions, only shifting when he needed you to. His touch was precise but gentle as he massaged the cleanser into your skin.

Your toes wiggled absentmindedly on either side of his thighs, tapping softly against him while he moved through your products, handling each one with practiced ease.

Jungkook was quiet for a moment before he finally spoke.

"I want to move in with you."

You didn’t open your eyes—mostly because your face was covered in toner—but the way your feet stopped swinging and your eyebrows shot up said everything.

“Well, that’s one way to grovel,” you muttered under your breath, leaning down blindly to rinse your face. Jungkook cupped his hand, helping you wash off the spots you missed before gently wiping your face dry with the towel. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips through the fabric.

Cute, you thought.

“Gross,” you mumbled, the faintest smile tugging at your lips.

He didn’t respond, just slipped his hands down your bare legs, wrapping them securely around his waist. You tugged the towel down and blinked up at his pretty face. He just stood there, quiet, watching you. Waiting.

"Are you waiting for something?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He bit his lip, barely concealing a smile. “Hmm. Is that how you’re going to be?”

“I don’t know what you mean…”

“So your answer is no, then.” He hummed.

“My answer is nothing because you didn’t ask me a question,” you retorted, brattily swatting his bum with your foot, the light tap making him smirk.

“It’s going to happen eventually,” he said, his tone certain, almost mocking, as he leaned down to brush his lips against yours. His hand caught your ankle, stopping your wandering toe from getting too close to the no-go zone. Well, except that one ti—

“May as well get it out of the way, baby.”

“Oh,” you laughed, amusement coloring your voice as you unwrapped your legs from his waist, resting them on the counter. “Glad you consider the next step in our relationship something we should just get out of the way.”

His eyes sparkled with amusement as he pulled your legs back down, positioning himself firmly between them again, his hands settling possessively on your thighs. “You know what I mean,” he murmured, his voice dipping into a low growl.

“You already know I’d do anything with you, baby,” you sighed, rolling your eyes as your feet lifted back up to drum lightly against his bum. “But I’m annoyed that you asked me this right after an argument. You’re just doing what you think will make me happy—”

The cold, metallic sensation on your thigh interrupted your sentence. Frowning, you glanced down to see his tattooed hand resting on your skin, something small and cool pressed beneath his palm.

Your brows furrowed. “Move your hand, Kookie.”

He didn’t move, his gaze locking with yours. His eyes were serious—more serious than you’d seen in a long while. And that was saying something. Jungkook was always confident, always certain about your relationship, but this… this was different.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his tongue flicking at his lip ring.

“Yes?” you asked, your voice softening as your finger reached up to gently swat his tongue away before you adjusted his lip ring back into place.

“You know how much I love you, right? Like, really know how in love with you I am?” His voice was so genuine, his eyes searching yours intently.

Your head tilted slightly as you swallowed the urge to tease him. The feeling of that little cool object under his palm had your mind racing. You already knew exactly what it was, and if you’d been wearing underwear right now, they’d be fucking soaked.

“I do,” you nodded just as seriously, your hands resting on the counter on either side of your thighs as you leaned forward, waiting for his pouty lips to meet yours. He didn’t make you wait long, leaning down immediately, humming as you gently suckled on his tongue and over his lip ring before pulling back.

“I know, baby. I feel it every day." You spoke against his lips, giving them a soft peck before pulling back a little, "I’m so lucky to have you all to myself. I love you just as much, my darling. I hope you know that.”

“I do, baby.” He nodded, leaning down to brush his pretty nose against yours. “You’re it for me, angel. There’s no one after you. That, I know.”

“Mmh,” you grunted in delight, your nose scrunching as your hand snaked around the back of his neck, pulling him down to your lips, hard.

Jungkook melted into you instantly, his hands finding their way up your body as he kissed you with the kind of need that made your entire body hum. His fingers curled into the back of your hair, pulling you deeper into the kiss, and you moaned softly against his mouth, just as his hands moved lower.

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, breaking the kiss suddenly as your eyes dropped to the now-uncovered little piece of metal resting on your thigh.

Tears welled up in your eyes the moment you saw it. Your hand darted down, snatching up the now-warm key like it was made of glass, your fingers trembling as you inspected it. This wasn’t a key to his penthouse—you already had one of those.

This was new. Bigger. And turning you the fuck on.

Jungkook's bunny teeth grazed his lip ring, a rare flicker of hesitation crossing his face as he watched you silently. Jeon Jungkook didn’t get nervous. He was rich, successful, gorgeous, and had the hottest girl he had ever seen in his life all to himself. But even he couldn’t deny that his heart was beating a little fast, or whatever.

“Baby, fuck," you choked out, your brows furrowing as the tears threatened to spill over. You looked up at him, still clutching the key. "You fucking... ugh!"

Your hand gripped the collar of his shirt, yanking him back down to you. You kissed him again, deep and needy, your lips crashing against his with a desperation you couldn’t quite name.

"Love me that much, hm?" you mumbled between kisses, your voice husky, body arching into him as his tattooed hands slid down your sides, long fingers squeezing around the soft flesh. "Bought me a fucking house, huh, baby?"

Jungkook’s smirk brushed against your lips, so cocky, so him. “Well, I’m not fucking renting it.”

A loud laugh bubbled out of you, muffled by his mouth still pressed against yours. It was cut short when his tongue slipped past your parted lips, hot and familiar, moving with practiced ease.

His tongue... fuck, with the number of times and places you’d had it in your body, you were sure you could pick it out from a lineup blindfolded. Skilled, wet, with that lingering touch of cigarette. Fucking perfect.

You grunted against his mouth, your hand blindly reaching to set the key on the counter without pulling away. “Told you to stop smoking.”

“Told you to get fucked,” he hummed back, his words vibrating on your tongue as his hands slid from your hips to your ass, gripping hard enough to make you gasp before pulling you flush against his growing bulge.

“Cunt,” you giggled, your fingers tangling around the back of his neck, pulling him in deeper, your tongue chasing that smoky flavor as heat pulsed between your legs. The softest whine escaped your lips as you swallowed his taste.

“Bitch,” he mumbled lowly, tattooed fingers giving a dirty squeeze to your ass, brows furrowing in delight as his hips ground into yours, the thick, hard length of him pressing between your thighs. Even through the layers of fabric, the friction sent a needy throb straight to your clit.

Your nails scratched lightly against the nape of his neck, and just as you were about to bite down on his tongue, he suddenly pulled back, leaving your lips parted in a confused pout.

“What?” you whined, trying to tug him back down to your mouth, but he wasn’t budging. His eyes were locked in place.

On your crotch.

Oh.

“Y/N.” His voice dropped, deeper, more dangerous.

“Yes, my love?” you blinked innocently, tugging at the collar of his shirt. He didn’t move.

“Are you not wearing fucking panties?”

“Um,” you pursed your lips, pretending to think. “Would you believe me if I said I was?”

Your boyfriend scoffed sorely, giving a bitter nod before peeling himself from you completely and walking out of the bathroom.

You sat there for a second, blinking, frowning at the sight of him walking away, watching how the thick muscles in his back rippled beneath his shirt. God, you just wanted to run your tongue over every inch of that perfect, sinful skin, remembering all the times you had gotten off just by riding that big fucking back—

Shit.

“Baby!” you called after him with a pout, hopping off the counter and ignoring the sticky feeling between your thighs as your feet hit the floor. You wobbled slightly, legs stiff from sitting too long. With a quick kiss to the key resting beside the sink, you dropped it into your jewelry case and scurried after your angry boyfriend.

“Kookie, hold on…” The sound of your footsteps echoed down the hallway, needy and impatient.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You were really pissed when he canceled, okay, and so you did the one thing you knew would get under his skin... going commando in public when he wasn’t around.

You fully expected him to find out at the bar or during some angry foreplay at home. Then, he’d get all sexy, possessive, and you’d end up screaming his name so loud your neighbors would complain again.

But not like this. Not after he’d been so gentle, taking your makeup off with soft, careful touches. Not after he’d just given you the key to the fucking house he bought for the two of you! He was probably feeling all soft and vulnerable, having just taken such a big step in your relationship...

You know, people didn’t really get it—but deep down, your boyfriend was just a big, cuddly teddy bear. Sure, a teddy bear with like three assault charges, but that’s besides the point.

God. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Jungkook didn’t stop. He rounded the corner into your bedroom, shoulders stiff, jaw clenched.

You followed him in, flicking on the light just in time to see him unbuttoning his shirt, quietly tugging it free from where it had been tucked into his slacks. His back was to you, standing near your vanity, jaw tight with restraint, anger radiating off him in waves.

The muscles in his broad shoulders flexed as you stepped closer, your palms sliding up the expanse of his back.

"Baby, I'm—"

"Don't." His voice was low, firm—a quiet command cutting off any apology on the tip of your tongue. He pulled his shirt off, tossing it over the chair beside him before his hand moved to his belt, the metallic clink sounding sharper in the silence of the room.

You sighed softly, pressing a kiss to his warm, bare shoulder, the skin still taut with tension. Your forehead rested against his back as your arms wrapped around his waist, holding him close. “Are you mad at me?”

"Mhm." He scoffed, pulling his belt through the loops and throwing it onto the growing pile of clothes.

Without a word, he shrugged off your hold, his back stiff as he walked over to your dresser. Opening the middle drawer, he pulled out one of his shirts, and without even looking back at you, he held it out.

You didn’t hesitate, taking it from his hand. He didn’t need to say anything—Jungkook never wore shirts to bed. Your fingers slipped behind your back, tugging down the zipper of your dress before you let the fabric fall in a pool at your feet.

His eyes caught your movement in the mirror, and he scoffed softly, watching as you unclasped your bra. The bra slipped down, the absence of panties now glaringly obvious. His expression tightened as you slid his shirt over your head, the oversized fabric falling to mid-thigh.

Jungkook unbuttoned his slacks in silence, shoving them off until he stood in just his briefs. He bent down, gathering both of your discarded clothes before disappearing into the bathroom to toss them into the hamper.

You heard the water running as you pulled the band from your hair and padded toward the bathroom, wanting to brush your teeth too. But before you could enter, he stepped out, his tall frame blocking the doorway.

"Get in bed," he said sternly, leaving no room for argument.

You pouted but turned around, dragging your feet toward the bed. From the way he flicked off the light behind you, it was clear you weren’t getting dicked down tonight. Jungkook always kept the lights on when he was fucking you—he liked to see everything properly. You frowned as you crawled under the covers.

"My love," you started softly, watching his back as he climbed into bed, turning to face the window. He didn’t respond. "Baby, please—"

"I’m so fucking angry," he finally spoke, his voice low, thick with frustration. Your hand raked over the tattoos covering his tense arm as you scooted closer, your fingertips tracing the ink in the way you always did to calm him down.

"Turn around and go to sleep," he grumbled, laced with warning.

"Can’t sleep when you’re mad at me. You know that," you whined softly, shuffling closer until you were pressed against his back, your leg draping over his waist, pulling yourself into his space.

He tensed under your touch but didn’t push you away.

You nuzzled into him, your cheek resting on his shoulder, hand tracing gentle patterns along his side. "Talk to me, baby," you whispered, your voice soft, pleading. "Please."

"You knew it would piss me off. I don’t know why you’re surprised—"

"Yeah, but I thought it would be like sexy, possessive, fuck me into the mattress mad…" Your words were muffled as your lips brushed against the warmth of his back, speaking directly into his skin. “I didn’t expect you to ask me to move in with you, baby—”

"So, if I didn’t," he interrupted, tugging the blanket over his shoulder, brushing you off in the process. "You wouldn’t be sorry at all?"

You frowned, pulling the blanket back down and reclaiming your spot, pressing yourself against him again.

“Not really,” you admitted, lips finding the little heart tattoo on his shoulder blade that he’d let you needle into him. You pressed a gentle kiss to it, your voice softening into a playful coo. “Was really mad at you. But then you were all stupidly cute and you bought us a fucking houseee, baby.”

Your fingers curled around his bare side, your kisses turning into quick, playful pecks across the tattoo. "And now I am very..." You pressed another kiss to his skin, “sorry.” Kiss. “My love.” Kiss.

He shifted slightly, his body tense but responsive to your touch. You knew you were getting to him, your lips soft against his inked skin, your tone low and slow. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t stop you, not entirely immune to the way your kisses trailed over his back, or the way your fingers skimmed down his side.

“You think you can just kiss me and make it better?” His voice was still low, but there was something softer creeping into it, the edges of his anger starting to blur under your touch.

You gazed affectionately at your softie's back, a smile playing on your lips as you rubbed your nose over the tattoo. “Maybe,” you hummed. “But I can do a little more than kiss you, if that's not enough…” you whispered, your hand trailing lower, brushing just above the waistband of his briefs.

He let out a small, frustrated sigh, but his body betrayed him—muscles relaxing slightly under your touch.

“Brat,” he muttered under his breath, shifting his position to lie on his back, allowing the blanket to slide down his body and reveal his broad, toned chest.

A soft, approving grunt left your lips as you shamelessly drank in the view, your eyes lingering on your favorite tattoo, scribbled prettily across his chest.

You’ve always been vocal about your love for Jungkook’s tattoos—they’re one of your favorite things about him. Some hold more meaning than others, but they're all breathtakingly beautiful. Honestly, with the number of times your nails have raked down his skin while he takes you like an untamed force, you’d think the ink would’ve rubbed off by now.

But your favorite? The tattoo nestled right below his left, perfectly pink nipple.

Your name.

You’ve never been one for tattoos on yourself, and you know people have all sorts of opinions about getting your partner’s name etched into your skin—a curse, they say. But when Jungkook told you, not asked, told you that he was going to get your name tattooed on him, you'd never dropped to your knees so fast in your life.

You were both lounging lazily on his couch, enjoying one of those rare days off, when he told you the news. The next twelve hours were spent on his lap, with the couch left in a state that required professional cleaning. Jungkook was very upset when you had it cleaned while he was at work, but you made it up to him.

By telling him you wanted one too.

You could already picture your sweet Christian mother rolling in her grave at the thought of you getting a tattoo, let alone your boyfriend’s name—the same boyfriend who’s done things to you no amount of repentance could ever erase. But it’s okay. You planned to get it in a place she wouldn’t see, wherever she’s watching from.

When you told Jungkook about your plan to get matching ink, it led to the second most tender and passionate sex you’d ever had—the first being the day you both said “I love you” for the first time. He's a sap like that.

You were supposed to get "Jungkook" etched onto your inner thigh, but the moment the needle touched your skin, you knew there was no way in hell you were sitting through all eight letters. So, you settled for "JK." Still adorable, and you loved it. So did he.

He’s obsessed with it, sometimes spending hours suckling on the ink. He’ll fall asleep with his head in your lap, the tattooed skin nestled in his mouth like a pacifier. His hand gravitates there when you're out to dinner with friends, resting directly on the spot if you're wearing a skirt, over your jeans if you're not.

Jungkook, of course, got your entire first name and let you pick where it would go. He only had one condition: it had to be on the front of his body—somewhere on his chest or maybe his thigh. When you asked why, he simply said he wasn’t getting any other tattoos there. That space was only for you.

You immediately picked the spot under your favorite nipple of his, and rode him into the sunset right after.

Angel isn’t a word most people—well, any people—would use to describe Jeon Jungkook. But for you, it’s that simple.

He’s your angel. Your short-tempered, jealous, possessive, fiery-fisted angel. For forever and then some.

Despite your boyfriend's irritated expression, you could sense the familiar heat building up in him, causing his eyes to darken and his teeth to tug on his lip rings unconsciously. You felt yourself clench around nothing at the sight.

God, you were down so bad.

A sly grin tugged at your lips as you shifted, sliding your leg over his waist to straddle him, your bare heat pressing flush against the hard bulge straining beneath his briefs. A soft, satisfied hum escaped your throat as you leaned down, letting your lips graze along the sharp line of his jaw.

“Thought you liked your bitches bratty,” you murmured, the words brushing against his lip rings. You kissed your way slowly, deliberately down his neck. “Heard Heejin can get real mouthy.”

“Hm, she’s not usually that bad around me,” he said, his tone casual, almost playful. His tattooed fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, tracing lazily along your sides. “Then again, her mouth is usually otherwise occupied.”

Your lips froze mid-kiss against his neck, the heat in the room shifting as a bubbling wave of jealousy swirled low in your stomach. You knew he was only matching your teasing with his own, but it didn’t stop the image from forming—Heejin, beneath you, as you straddled her in this exact position. Only this time, you weren’t smirking. This time, your hands gripped a pillow, pressing it down firmly until her frantic kicks finally stilled.

You recovered quickly, trailing your kisses lower down his chest. “Yeah?” you bit, voice tight as you continued kissing along his skin. “She suck your cock just the way you like it, baby?”

Jungkook swallowed a shiver as you slid down his body, your mouth hovering over his chest. The tension between you thickened as your teeth grazed his nipple, your tongue darting out just enough to tease.

“Yeah,” he answered, voice strained as he felt your hot breath fan over him. “She’s real sloppy with it. Bit surprising, considering she acts like a fucking church girl in the office—”

You waited until his nipple hardened from the sensation of your breath before biting down, hard, sinking your teeth into the sensitive skin.

His reaction was instant—a sharp hiss slipping through his clenched teeth as his fingers dug into your sides on instinct, gripping you hard enough to leave marks.

His hips jerked up against you, the friction sending a spark through your core as he tried to suppress the groan building in his throat at your obvious stake to claim. His restraint was fading, and you couldn't fucking wait.

You followed up with a soft lick, soothing the now-red nub before lowering your mouth to press a wet, possessive kiss over your tattoo on his chest.

“Sorry,” you mumbled insincerely, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with him.

Jungkook’s gaze was fiery, narrowed as he looked up at you, but you could see the way his breath quickened, his stomach contracting deliciously beneath your bare heat that he was affected.

The grip on your hips tightened, pulling you down harder as he let out a low warning. "Careful, baby."

You smiled small, dragging your nails lightly over his abdomen as you trailed back up his body. “Sorry, baby. Hyungwon used to love it when I did that—"

You didn’t get to finish your sentence before Jungkook was flipping you onto your back, his hands gripping your wrists and pinning them above your head. The look in his eyes was dark, jaw clenched tight as he loomed over you.

If there was one thing that drove Jungkook over the edge, it was when you mentioned your ex.

"Think you're so funny, hm?" His voice dropped low, a dangerous edge creeping in as his grip on your wrists tightened slightly, his gaze darkening as it scanned your face. You could feel the shift—he was serious now.

You pouted up at him, a small smile still playing on your lips. “Just being honest, love. Hyungwon’s left nipple was really sensitive—”

A deep scoff reverberated from Jungkook’s chest, his fingers tightening their hold just enough to send a shiver down your spine. He leaned down, his nose brushing yours as his jaw clenched.

"If you ever comp—" he stopped abruptly, his breath unsteady, voice shaking with barely-contained rage at being compared to the guy he’d nearly put into a coma the last time he laid eyes on him. His jaw clenched, tongue sliding over the inside of his cheek as he glared down at you. "Say his name again, Y/N. I fucking dare you."

You don't know why you did it.

Maybe you lacked survival instincts. Or maybe it was because you were wetter than the fucking Atlantic.

Oh well. Too late now.

"Hyungw—"

You barely got through the first syllable before you were flipped onto your stomach, your cheek pressed into the mattress, the sudden force of the movement knocking the air from your lungs.

A grunt escaped your lips, your head tilting just enough to catch your breath. You could barely contain the smile threatening to spread across your face, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as a thrill of excitement raced through your veins.

Fucking finally.

Jungkook’s weight vanished from the bed, and though every nerve in your body screamed at you to move, you knew better. You had been here before, too many times to count. Sitting up to look at him would earn you more than just punishment—it would leave you edged and begging for release until you were a writhing, pathetic mess. Normally, you’d relish every second of that torture, but right now you were too fucking soaked and too fucking needy to drag this out any longer. You haven't had his cock inside you since before he left your place for work this morning.

And that was like… seventeen fucking hours ago!

Your body thrummed with anticipation, the ache between your thighs pulsing as you stayed perfectly still, hands flat at your sides. You nuzzled deeper into the pillow with a pleased hum, toes wiggling in eager impatience.

Then came the sound you were waiting for.

He was back behind you, the loud click of the belt buckle confirming it. "'M getting too soft on you, baby." His voice was low, dark.

The mattress dipped beneath his weight, and you felt the cold brush of the belt against your bare thighs, the sensation jolting straight to your core.

You bit down harder on your lip, resisting the urge to respond. You knew that would only make it worse. And better.

"Let you ignore my texts," he hummed, the belt dragging slowly up the curve of your legs, making you squirm involuntarily under his touch.

"Let you walk around with no fucking panties," he growled, his hands pulling up the hem of his shirt so your body was fully exposed to him. You immediately gripped the fabric, holding it tight so it stayed in place, eager to feel the weight of his eyes on your bare skin.

"Bought you a fucking house."

He rested the belt on your waist, a promise of what was to come, then his fingers trailed lower, sliding exactly where you wanted them. He gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks just enough to let you feel the warm brush of his fingers against your slick heat.

"This what you wanted, baby?" His voice was a low, mocking drawl, dripping with condescension. "You want me to fuck you like the needy little slut you are?"

A helpless whimper escaped your lips, your thighs parting instinctively at his words, betraying the desperation that throbbed through every inch of your body.

It was fucked, really—how easily he could lead you into this hazy, trance-like state with just a few words. In everyday life, you were lippy, hot-headed, the kind of person who would never let anyone walk all over you without a fight.

But with Jungkook? When he controlled you, when he degraded you, it never left you feeling small, not like other inferior men from your past who only managed to make you feel amused or bored.

With Jungkook, it was different. The way he commanded you, as twisted as it was, it made you feel seen. Wanted. Like you were exactly where you needed to be—in his hands, under his control. All you desired was to surrender completely, to let him take and take until there was nothing left.

Maybe you were biased, considering you loved the man currently smirking wickedly above you with every fiber of your being, but who cared? He owned you, and god, did you love every second of it.

Jungkook hummed, his fingers sliding through your wetness, gathering it slowly. You could hear the smirk in his voice. "So wet just from running that fucking mouth of yours, huh?"

Your breath hitched, every nerve firing as he lifted a hand to press lightly on the buckle resting on your back, the pressure sending a delicious ache radiating through you. You could already imagine the sting it would leave, the thought alone making you drip.

Then, his hand trailed back down your side, leaving the belt untouched and useless on your back. You bit back a disappointed grunt.

"All leaky and achy just from imagining Heejin-ah with my cock in her mouth, baby?" His taunt was biting, and you couldn’t stop the irritated noise that bubbled from your throat. He deliberately added the friendly honorific to get a rise out of you. And it worked.

"Oh?" Jungkook's laughter was filled with malice as he lightly traced his thumb over your folds for the briefest of seconds, not enough to satisfy, not even close.

"You don’t like it when I talk about other girls having me like you have me, huh? Not so fun is it, baby?"

His thumb brushed against your clit, fleeting, fast, gone before you could even register the sensation. Your hips bucked, chasing after the contact you craved, but he was already pulling away.

"Funny that," he mused before his tone turned menacingly low. "Because you sure as hell like talking about that boring fucking cuck a bit too much for my liking."

With the last remnants of your composure, you opened your mouth, ready to fire back one last bratty comment. Maybe the lord was on your side, though, because before you could get a word out, Jungkook cut you off.

"Color."

The retort died on your tongue, and before you even processed it, the response was out.

"Bright fucking green."

Jungkook’s mouth came down hot and harsh, his evil tongue licking a fat stripe right down your soaking slit. He took one of your ass cheeks in each hand, parting them effortlessly. You felt more than heard the deep inhale and exhale over your cunt as he dipped his nose into it like a dog would do to their water bowl on a hot fucking day.

Your breathing turned erratic, and your hands curled into fists to stop yourself from grabbing his head and forcing him deeper into your pussy. The way his tongue moved so deliberately, so lazily, only heightened the tension coiling tight in your core. When he had his fill of dragging his nose up and down your slit, his mouth latched onto your clit, slurping it up like it was his last fucking meal.

Your back arched, a strangled moan ripping from your lips as your fingers clawed at your sheets, trying to clutch onto any last thread of sanity. The grip on your ass tightened, keeping you wide open as he went at you with a brutal pace. Your thighs trembled around his head, your hole fluttering at the pleasure he was delivering to your clit. He was relentless, taking out all his anger and frustration on your poor little pussy.

Your cunt couldn’t keep up with him. It was dripping, soaking your boyfriend's face faster than he could lap it up, coating his chin and dripping down to the sheets beneath you. He groaned into your pussy, a low, dirty sound that vibrated right through your core.

"Ah! Fuck baby," you sobbed, burying your face further into the mattress. "Ngh-fuckkk!"

He didn't stop, tongue noisily sucking and flicking at your clit. Then his hand lifted and came down hard on your right ass cheek, the sharp slap sending a jolt straight through you. It ripped a moan from your throat and you forced yourself not to ask for another one.

"Not my name right now," he pulled back enough to scoff.

Before you could respond, Jungkook’s hands were already on you, shifting your body until you were holding yourself up on your hands and knees, your weight settled into doggy position.

He let out a low hum in approval before wasting no time and burying his mouth back into your heat, tongue sliding up and down viciously through your sopping folds.

“Ah-uhhh! Yes, daddy, oh my godddd,” you cried out, your eyes rolling back, hips bucking as his nose pressed deeper into your pussy.

He moaned into you, the vibration rippling through you as his tongue trailed slowly toward the entrance of your weepy hole.

Your evil fucking boyfriend hovered there for a moment, pretending to tease the tight muscle before his lips gave a big, harsh suck. The sound echoed in your ears as he slurped up as much of your slick as he could, coating his tongue before shoving it right into your clenching hole.

“Ah!” Your scream tore raw from your throat, your nails digging sorely into the mattress. His free hand slid up your body, four fingers pressing into the top of your ass cheeks, gripping you with possessive strength, while his thumb found your swollen clit, rubbing it in big, messy circles.

"Daddy -ah! Oh my fuckkk yes, eat your fucking pussy daddy, goddd."

Jungkook groaned lowly into you, eyes fluttering closed as he relished in the taste of the sweetest pussy he's ever had and will ever have in his life. He was manic as he drank from it, slurped at it, rubbed it all over his dirty fucking face. The wet sounds of his tongue pistoning into your hole, his finger sliding over your soppy clit, your fucked-out whimpers while you screamed for your Daddy.

Music to his fucking ears.

Your legs shook, elbows digging into the mattress as you forced yourself to keep form. If it weren't for your boyfriend's firm hand pressed against your stomach, holding you up, you both know you'd be face down on the mattress again.

Jungkook felt the tension in your belly beneath his palm and he knew you were getting close. He let you writhe for a few more seconds before slowing his movements, slipping his tongue from your hole and pressing a kiss to the pretty, puffed outer lips. He gave a wet suckle to your pebbled clit on his way out and finally pulled back with a loud smacking sound.

As much as the whiny cry you let out when he pulled away made his already aching cock throb harder in his briefs, he needed both hands for what he was about to do to you. And you knew it.

His bunny teeth poked out to graze against your inner left thigh, pussy-coated lips puckering to press a soft kiss over the ink that bore his name. Then, his hand pulled back and landed a quick smack on your right thigh, the light sting spreading instantly across your skin.

You understood immediately, a strained groan slipping from your lips as you rolled onto your back, head sinking into the pillow.

The belt buckle had been digging into your skin, so you quickly pulled it from beneath you, tossing it beside you on the bed. Your feet pressed into the mattress, knees bending as your legs spread open once more, leaving your glistening pussy on full display—just the way he taught you.

"Mm," Jungkook hummed approvingly, his eyes raking over your body with that look of dark satisfaction. His hand drifted to his cock, now uncomfortably hard, and gave it a rough palm through the fabric.

When his gaze paused at your chest, where his shirt had slipped back down to cover your breasts, you knew what to do. 

But you didn't want to take it off… it was your favorite.

Instead, you tugged the fabric higher, pulling it up over your tits, shuddering as the material grazed over your sensitive nipples. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips before you bit down lightly on the hem, holding it in place between your teeth.

Jungkook let out a low, dirty groan, his fingers trailing up your thighs, giving the soft flesh a possessive squeeze. "Good girl, baby."

"Thank you, daddy," you keened at the praise, though your response came out muffled with the shirt wedged between your teeth.

You gave a little impatient wiggle of your hips, feeling the mixture of slick and saliva begin to drip out of your pussy the longer it was left unattended.

Jungkook's eyes hooded at the sight, watching as a glob of his spit dripped down from your pussy and disappeared right between your crack. He swallowed hard, hands itching to spread the fat cheeks and watch the liquid pool around your tight, puckered hole. He'd grab your phone and make you bring up Park Hyungwon's contact, force you to Facetime the pathetic fuck, and make him watch as he let more of his spit trail from his mouth right over your greedy ass. Then he'd use his big tongue to shove it deeper and deeper into your winking little hole .

Of course, the Hyungwon part was purely theoretical because you no longer had his number or any contact with that cunt anymore. Jungkook saw to that three days into your relationship. But the other parts—

"Daddy?"

His gaze slowly drifted up to your pretty face when your muffled voice broke him from his thoughts. "Yes, my baby?"

"Wha's da bel' for?" you mumbled, your speech slurred by the fabric of his shirt still caught between your teeth.

Jungkook’s tongue swiped over his bottom lip, eyes darkening at the sight of you struggling to speak, and he wasn’t surprised when his cock twitched in response, pressing harder against his stomach.

He glanced at the belt lying next to you. “Was gonna punish you, angel,” he admitted softly.

His hand trailed down, freeing his throbbing shaft from its restraints and kicking the briefs aside. The (non-sexual related) clean freak in him made a mental note to tidy up later.

Climbing onto the bed, he settled between your legs, his weight pressing down on you as his chest melded into your soft, warm skin. A quiet, content sigh slipped from his lips as he let himself sink into you.

“But 'm still very sorry about earlier,” he murmured, his words a gentle apology as his hand brushed along your side, his nose nuzzling against your boob. “And I wanna be a little gentler with you tonight. Is that okay?”

A warmth swirled in your stomach, sending soft flutters through your body. Your hand lifted to thread through his silky, messy hair, your nails grazing his scalp just the way he loved.

“Of cour-kkhm,” His eyes flicked up to meet yours from where his head rested on your chest, and with a bunny smile, his fingers carefully tugged his shirt from your mouth, freeing your lips so you could speak more clearly.

Leaning down, you pressed a gentle kiss to his tattooed fingers, feeling his warmth seep into your skin. “You can have me any way you want, baby,” you whispered softly, your words full of affection. “You know that.”

“Never getting rid of me, you know that, right?” he murmured against the soft skin of your sideboob, his lips puckering to suck a delicate mark into the flesh.

“Would never try,” you sighed, your hand trailing down to rest on his warm, solid back as he licked tenderly over the mark he’d left. “Would fucking castrate you if you even tried to leave me.”

A low, deep laugh rumbled through his chest, vibrating against your body as he shifted up, his naked form pressing closer until his mouth found its place in the crook of your neck. He mumbled softly, a smirk tugging at his lips, “Would let you.”

You giggled, your head tilting to meet your other half. “Slut,” you mumbled sweetly before connecting your mouth with his. Your lips moved together in perfect sync, tongues lazily lapping against each other, unrushed and full of love.

The taste of you in his mouth had you clenching around nothing as the memory of his filthy tongue buried between your thighs minutes ago resurfaced. Your hips rocked up lightly, exhaling through your nose when the tip of his cock just barely brushed against your sticky clit, the sound loud in contrast to the soft click of your tongues.

Jungkook was no less affected, groaning into your mouth as his fingers tightened around the sides of your waist. His hips shifted down so the full length of his shaft could slip between your slick folds, and he reveled in the loud, squishy noise of your heat enveloping him as he slid back and forth.

“Mmmmhh,” you broke away from his mouth with a sigh of relief, your head lolling back as your body ignited at the feeling of his cock finally returning home. He didn’t make a move to push inside just yet, continuing his deep thrusts, coating his length and balls in your slick as he rutted back and forth. "Shit, baby."

Jungkook’s groan was strained as his hand trailed from your side, slipping between the two of you without moving his head. He reluctantly pulled his cock from your slick folds before two of his fingers were there to replace it, sinking into your heat without hesitation.

"F-fuck," you choked, your chest heaving at the sudden stretch, your body reacting instantly to the familiar intrusion. It was the first time something stiff had been inside you all night, and the relief was overwhelming.

Jungkook groaned low in your ear, letting you adjust for a second before his hunger took over. He pushed his fingers in deeper into your hole, sinking them in fully until his palm slapped loudly against your clit. Then he pulled them out and drove them back in, harder.

"Oh god, b-baby, shitttt." Your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders, jaw slacking when his long fingers easily reached that spongey part deep inside of you.

He nuzzled into your neck, his lips brushing the hot skin there as his fingers continued their relentless pace, a soft groan escaping his throat. The way your walls squeezed tightly around his fingers like you didn't want him to pull out, the loud sqsch-sqsch-sqsch of your pussy echoing in his ears as he thrusted his hand in and out of your dirty little hole.

God, he was going to cum untouched like a fucking teenager.

“Need to put it in, please, baby,” he begged softly, voice strained with need, his breath hot against your neck. “Need you."

Your hand cupped his face, fingers brushing lightly over his jawline as your eyes fluttered shut. “Take it,” you mewled, breath catching as his fingers slowed. His hips shifted back over you, his heavy balls pressed snugly against your clit. “Take it all, baby. It’s yours.”

Jungkook didn’t need to be told twice. He withdrew his fingers, his wet hand wrapping around his throbbing cock. He exhaled into your neck before slipping back into your folds and you choked out a loud sigh of relief as he finally began to fill you up.

“Shittttt,” he slurred against your neck, his forehead pressing into your jaw as he sank all the way in until his hips were flush with yours. “God, baby... so fucking good.”

His body stayed pressed against yours, his chest melting into your own, every inch of his skin needing to feel yours. His lips ghosted over your collarbone, up your neck, and to your jawline, pressing gentle kisses as he moved inside you with deep, unhurried thrusts.

“Fuck, baby,” you whimpered, your hands sliding up his back, pulling him impossibly closer. You buried your face into his neck, the scent of Bvlgari and tobacco making your head spin. It was so good. So fucking him.

The warmth of his heavy body on top of you made you feel so safe, so completely his. It fueled the burning ache in your stomach, the pressure in your core building with each deep stroke.

Your brows furrowed, overwhelmed, and your eyes pooled with tears, both from pleasure and emotion. "God, I love you so much, Jungkook. You make me feel so safe a-and loved," you choked out, voice trembling.

Jungkook’s hips stilled slightly, but you felt the way his cock twitched inside you at your words. He pulled his head back, looking down at your tear-streaked face, eyes softening.

"My baby," he mumbled softly, his clean(er) hand lifting to brush away your tears before leaning down to press soft kisses over your flushed skin.

"As long as I’m alive, nothing and nobody will ever hurt a hair on your pretty little head, Y/N." He kissed over the fresh tears, licking the salty liquid off his lips before placing a soft kiss onto your pouty lips. "Besides me, of course, when you ask me to."

A watery chuckle escaped your lips as he added, "I love you more than I love myself, baby. You're my world. I would kill for you," another kiss to the corner of your mouth before he cheekily added, "almost have."

You giggled, shaking your head and leaning up to press a grateful kiss against his lips. You followed it with another, longer one, brushing softly over the cool metal of his lip rings. "Can't wait to live with you, baby."

"Mmm," he groaned in satisfaction, his hips instinctively picking up their slow, deep rhythm at your words. "Yeah? Can’t wait to be trapped in my house, nowhere to run when you’re being a little brat?"

You laughed, breathy from the way he was rolling his hips into you. "Like I get far as it is? You just follow me like a dirty stalker."

His smile turned dark and playful as his thrusts became a little sharper. "Uh-huh, and you think that would stop when we sign some stupid joint tenancy papers?"

You couldn't help the way you clenched around him at that, big eyes blinking up at him in shock. "You're letting me sign the papers with you?"

Jungkook's brows furrowed as if confused. "Baby, it's our house; why wouldn’t you?"

A grunt rumbled from your throat as you pulled him down, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. Jungkook groaned into your mouth, his hands sliding down to grip your hips tightly, his thrusts growing rougher in response to the bite.

The sounds that echoed around your bedroom were wet, needy, the slick squelching with every push and pull as he kept his pace, deep and steady. Your breaths mingled, his lips hovering over yours as he rocked into you.

Jungkook groaned lowly, his hips pressing harder, more urgent. “You feel so fucking good, baby,” he rasped, his lips pressing soft kisses along your jaw, up to your ear. “Give it to me every day, and it's still so wet and tight for me, fucking hellll.”

You keened at his praise, biting your lip harshly as his pace quickened. Your legs wrapped tighter around his waist, thighs squeezing as you pulled him deeper inside you until you were so close you were getting shoved into the headboard with each thrust.

“Ah, bab-uh! Right theree,” you whined, back arching as he hit that spot with precision, his thick head shoving against your g-spot like it was second nature. He knew your body inside out, and still, every time felt like a new fucking discovery.

Jungkook grunted lowly, his lips hovering by your ear as he thrust deeper, harder. “Right there, baby? That’s my spot, isn’t it? Feels so good when I fuck into it like that, huh?”

Your nails dug into his back as you whimpered, completely at his mercy. The slamming of the headboard against the wall was so loud but you couldn't care less. “Yes, yes, fuck, baby, that's yooourr fucking spot, uuh! Fucking take it, baby, godd!"

Jungkook groaned, his hips snapping faster, rougher, each thrust more desperate as he pounded into you. “I will,” he promised, possessiveness dripping from every word. “And you’re gonna give it to me, right, baby? Gonna beg me for it?”

“Please, baby, take it,” you cried out, your legs tightening around his waist. “Take it all, it’s yours. Just fucking take it.”

His hand gripped your hip hard, anchoring you in place as he slammed into you over and over again. He shifted you down a little so your head wasn't slamming into the headboard and his free hand slid down to rub over your slippery clit.

"Whose is it, huh? Who does this dirty fucking pussy belong to? Tell me.”

“You,” you sobbed, your body trembling beneath him, the pressure building in your core so quickly you could barely think. “It’s yours, baby. All y-yours.”

“Say my fucking name when you come,” he demanded, “and you’re gonna take everything I give you, right, baby? Greedy little pussy’s gonna suck up every drop of my fucking load. And you’re gonna hold it in there until I’m ready to turn you into a mama.”

You came so fucking hard.

It hit you all at once—your release crashing through you, your body shaking violently as a broken scream ripped from your throat, nails digging so deep into his skin you knew you’d leave marks.

“Jung—” your breath hitched in a sob “Jungkooookkkk!”

Your body arched into him, every wave of pleasure crashing through you, leaving you limp and trembling beneath him as he kept pounding into you, chasing his own release. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoed in your ears, barely drowning out the breathless thank yous tumbling from your lips.

“Good fucking girl,” he praised, his voice strained as his hips stuttered, his cock pulsing as he used you as a fleshlight.

“Gonna be the best daddy,” you cried, legs shaking as you let him abuse your whimpering cunt. “Can’t wait to have your fucking babies. Give you, uh, g-give you as many as you want daddy.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, head thrown back in bliss. “Yeah? Gonna keep popping out babies for daddy until he says you’re done? Gonna let me fuck you so full until it sticks... 'til your belly’s so big you can barely fucking walk, baby?”

You could hear the slick, wet sloshing noise every time he pulled out and slammed back into your pussy, and you swore it was the prettiest sound you’d ever heard.

“Yesss, daddyyy,” you cried out, voice high and desperate. “Please make me a mommy. P-please.”

“Nghhh, fuck!”

With one final deep thrust, he spilled into you, hot and thick, his body trembling as he filled you completely. Your name fell from his lips again as your greedy walls fluttered and clenched around him, eager to milk every last drop of cum from his cock.

But he didn’t stop.

Jungkook’s hips kept rolling into yours, adjusting for a moment at the sensitivity before he sped up, dragging his softening cock against that perfect spot inside you. His thumb was cruel, chasing your swollen clit even as it tried to hide from him.

It was too much, too intense, but you couldn’t stop the way your body reacted—back arching, nails back digging back into his big shoulders, a broken wail spilling from your lips.

“Fuck, baby,” you whimpered, head falling back as the overstimulation consumed you. “I c-can'tttt—”

“Another one," Jungkook growled, his lips brushing over your jaw, kissing you through every ragged breath. “C'mon, my love, you can do it. One more. One more, then you're done, baby.”

And just like that, it hit you—your second orgasm crashing through your body, leaving your toes curling and vision blurring. You cried out his name, your entire body shaking beneath him as he kept grinding, coaxing you through every wave of pleasure until you were trembling, thighs quivering around his waist.

“God, fuck!” you sobbed, clinging to him as the last of your release pulsed through you, squeezing his soft cock tight as he groaned into your neck. You were limp, shaking, but he stayed right there.

You both knew the chance of actually getting pregnant was very slim, thanks to the implant your arm, and you weren’t ready for that. You think.

But the breeding talk always turned you both the fuck on, and that 1% chance set something dangerous ablaze inside you. The risk, however small, just made it so much hotter.

You let out a content sigh as you crashed back to earth, shaky arms looping around his neck, pulling him down, craving the weight of his body on yours. Jungkook collapsed on top of you, his breath hot against your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your skin, still buried inside you

“Did so good, my baby. Always so good for me,” he cooed, his voice low and soft, as his nose nuzzled gently against your skin, brushing over your collarbone.

A breathy giggle escaped your lips as your fingers threaded through his slightly damp hair. “Thought you said you wanted to be gentle tonight.”

Jungkook hummed lazily against your neck, his lips trailing over your skin with a soft chuckle. “That was gentle,” he murmured, sinking deeper into your warm skin.

You snorted softly, shaking your head. “You’re not wrong,” you replied, your chest still heaving slightly as your hand slid soothingly up and down his back. You felt him smile against your neck, his arms tightening around you, his cock still nestled deep, clearly in no rush to pull out anytime soon.

For a moment, it was peaceful—the sound of your mingled breaths the only noise in the room. Then, Jungkook lifted his head slightly, glancing at the soft glow of your Mac screen. His eyes caught the time, and he let out an annoyed groan, burying his face deeper into your skin.

“Hm? What’s wrong?” you asked, your fingers still threading through his hair as you glanced toward the screen yourself. Your heart dropped when you saw the time.

“You’ve got to be up in, like, three hours,” you mumbled, running your hand down his back, your feet sliding up and down the back of his thighs in an attempt to soothe him.

Jungkook’s body tensed slightly at the reminder, his lips still pressed to your neck. You could feel the irritation in his silence, and your heart sank at the thought of him leaving before you even woke up.

“I’ll make your lunch before I come into work at eight, baby,” you offered softly, your voice gentle as you tried to ease his frustration. “I can bring it up to y—”

“I’m not going,” he interrupted, his voice firm but soft against your skin.

Your heart stilled at his words, and you pulled back slightly, trying to see his face. “What do you mean, you’re not going?”

“I’m not going in tomorrow,” he repeated, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “And you’re not either. We’re staying right here until we both get some real sleep.”

You blinked in surprise. “But—”

“And then,” he cut you off again, his lips brushing yours as he spoke, “we’re gonna wake up, pack your shit, and move into our house.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest. “Yeah?” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation.

Jungkook nodded, his lips curving into a soft smile as he leaned down to kiss you pouty lips, his hands brushing back your hair. “Told you, you can’t run from me anymore, baby.”

You grinned against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him deeply, your heart swelling with love.

“I love you so much, my dirty stalker,” you cooed against his mouth, your fingers drifting to trace over your name inked across his chest.

Jungkook’s eyes crinkled as his lips pressed softly against yours again, his body relaxing as he breathed you in. “I love you more, my crazy girl."

END.

WOW what a ride!! let me know what you think?? love you 🖤

CHANTAJE! (xxv)

SUMMARY: being under the watchful eye of the media and your fans, your managers are in desperate need of regaining back your popularity after other influencers who hate you cause mayhem to your life. what best way to do so by having you pretend to be in a relationship with the popular 7 who are known to be intensely wealthy and stoic? will you be able to regain their trust or will they go with their promise of damaging your reputation even more?

WARNING(S) FOR LATER: gore/blood/murder, harassment/bullying, mental health talks (nothing badly triggering), child endangerment (mc was a child actor, again nothing badly triggering. if there is, there will be a warning)

NOTE: ahhhhh next chapter will need to be listened to with wildflower by billie eilish pls

TAGLIST (CLOSED): @parapiop7 @an-ever-angry-bi @softforyoongles @thenaverse @chansatlan @juju-227592 @skyys-universe @carolinexkpop @reallysparklychaos @namjooncrabs @savagemickey03 @drunkzseok @svnbangtansworld @2ne1unni

“That star is orange.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Jin, I get you’re old and you can’t see, but that star is for sure orange or some type of color,” you said, pointing directly at the star you were pointing at so Jin could see.

You two were night seeing stars for some reason. You two had wanted to go out to eat, but he had messed up the time and reservation, so he just ordered food to your place and you two put some blankets on the grass.

“You’re fucking with me that’s it,” Jim scoffed out, squinting his eyes to see the star you were pointing at better. “Girl, I cannot see shit.”

“You have such a potty mouth for one that is the oldest,” you said with amusement, looking down at his figure lying down on the grass. “Also, remind me to get you some binoculars or some shit because how can you not see it?”

“Leave me alone,” Jin groaned, softly pushing you away. “I see it now. Happy?”

“Well, now I feel like you said that out of pity,” you said with a noise while simultaneously crossing your arms dramatically. “We suck at this. We can go inside to look at some movie.”

“Can we see one of yours?” He suggested, standing up and sticking his hand out to help you get on your feet. You scrunched your nose as you two got the food to take it inside. “Come on, I haven’t seen one.”

“Fine,” you dragged out. You two walked back inside your room, heading immediately towards the living room so you could put one of your movies. “Sad, rom-com, action, or psychological horror?”

“Sad, I feel like crying today,” he replied. He sat down on the side closer to the door and waited until you put on one of your sad movies. It was everyone’s favorite genre so of course you had more than one. Just like how so many actors were given a title, yours was “she’s mostly known for being in sad movies.” You didn’t know whether you should take it as a compliment, but you did. It was nice being known as that since you did a good job causing tears.

You and Jin sat on the couch for 2 hours, watching your film, “Color Blue.” He went watching it without knowing the plot (you didn’t want to tell him) and now he was suffering the consequences. You were sobbing, he was sobbing, tissues were spread everything (just the table), and he was left hurt at the ending.

“That was it?” He sniffed. “What the hell? He just leaves? He just disappears like that?”

You sniff. “It’s insinuated she met the love of her life shortly after he left. He was her first love but, it was never supposed to be a forever thing due to this circumstances.”

“I hate your fucking movie, what the fuck?” Jin continued to sniff before a sob escaped his mouth. “That’s enough. I don’t want to see more.”

“Can you drive?” You sniffle, placing the tissue on your nose. “Should I call one of the boys?”

“Yeah, call one of those idiots,” Jin said considering the fact you two have been together since 8 AM.

You two didn’t do a lot. He and the others find so much comfort in your home they love lying around on your couch or on your bed. You don’t know why but he and the others have said your house smells like pumpkin and cinnamon, which would be a nice scent for fall.

You took it as a compliment.

You couldn’t help but swoon over Jin’s looks and the way he truly was an awkward person like you have been told. He does have some confidence, but he mostly uses that when he needs to. He used that when you two went to the store to buy some things you two needed for dinner.

You two had to leave, though, when it got a bit swarmed with fans.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” you sniff before you and Jin simultaneously sobbed at the credit scene. You had forgotten a montage of your character and his favorite character was shown.

“Are you two okay?” Yoongi asked, standing up from his chair to look at his wristwatch. He looked at Jimin, gesturing for him while he grabbed his keys. “Hey, why are you two crying?”

They could just hear you both sobbing.

“He didn’t deserve that!” Jin exclaimed.

“It needed to end like that so she could meet him!”

As you two cried, Yoongi, Jimin, and Taehyung (they didn’t know where he came from) headed to the car parked in front of their house.

“Hurry up,” Jimin hissed. He had forgotten how slow of a driver Yoongi was.

After 10 minutes, they arrived to your house. Yoongi did break a couple of laws here and there but, they did get to your house unharmed.

Yoongi and Jimin had gotten out of the car when Taehyung did, which Jimin immediately stopped him for.

“What?” Taehyung scoffed as soon as Jimin stood in front of him, hands placed on his chest to prevent him from walking any further. “Let me go.”

“No,” Jimin replied with a frown. “Stay here. I’ll come get you once I make sure they’re fine.” Taehyung opened his mouth to argue but Jimin shushed him with a glare. “You will go crazy if you find out they’re hurt. Stay here. I am not fucking kidding.”

Once he made sure he wasn’t following, Jimin hurried into your house with such speed he was surprised he didn’t trip over your front stairs.

“They’re fine!” Yoongi exclaimed. Jimin appeared next to him, out of breath, chest heaving up and down. “They’re crying over a movie.”

“I-” Jimin gaped. He eyed the two figures on the couch hugging each other, holding on for dear life, almost as if they were to detach one would disappear. “What movie did you guys watch?”

“Color Blue,” you and Jin sobbed out, hugging each other tighter.

“Isn’t that your movie, Y/n?” Yoongi asked, eyebrows furrowing together. He glanced at your face on the screen, smiling at another character. “Why are you crying? Don’t you know the plot?”

“It still hurts, okay?” You cried out, throwing him a plushie. He easily caught it with one hand. “I’m such a good actress.”

“Yeah, you are,” Jin agreed, nodding his head rapidly.

Jimin sighed. “Okay, okay, come on.” He separated you two, letting Yoongi comfort you while he comforted Jin. “You big babies. Why are you watching a sad movie?”

“Jin said so,” you answered, grabbing another tissue and dabbing your nose.

“Of course he did. Jin loves sad movies.”

“I love the feeling it gives me.”

Jimin shook his head at his words. “See?” He placed a hand on the back of your head, lightly scratching your scalp while the other scratched Jin’s. “It’s okay, honey. Your movies are great. It’s just fictional.”

“It didn’t feel fictional,” Jin said, calming down. His eyes did tear up, though. “Oh, my God. They deserved their happy ending.”

“Jin, they did get their happy ending,” you sniffed. He looked at you and you gesture at the movie. “The guy at the end, his voice matches the other guys. Why do you think?”

He stayed silent before he gasped. “No way!”

“Yes!”

“What is the movie about?” Jimin whispered to Yoongi while you and Jin babbled.

“He ends up disappearing at the end,” Yoongi quickly answered in hopes you two wouldn’t listen. Just in case you two burst out crying again. “No one knows why he disappeared but, the next scene takes place months later after that. The movie ends with the audience hearing a voice that sounds just like his.”

Jimin frowned. That sounds sad.

He sighed.

“Okay, guys, come on,” he said, ushering Jin to stand up. “It’s late and we have work tomorrow so you mister,” he patted Jin’s shoulders, “need to sleep early.”

He nodded.

“Where’s Taehyung?” Yoongi asked, watching Jimin grabbing onto Jin as best as he could. His head swerved side to side. “I thought he was behind us.”

“I told him to stay in the car or else he was going to go—”

“Are they okay?” Taehyung exclaimed, coming inside the home. Jimin gulped at the intensity of his voice and let Yoongi reply that yes, you and Jin were crying and were fine. A movie of yours just made you two cry.

“Stop him before he heads to her,” Jimin rushed out, the two of them—Jin, too—heading towards Taehyung’s way to stop him from seeing you.

Yes, he loved Jin, he loved him so much. But he has never seen you cry, unlike Jin. So, he was definitely going to head to you with his heart hammering against his chest, his hands balled up into fists, his lips slightly parted, and his need for you stronger than ever.

“Taehyung, she’s fine.”

Jimin blocked Taehyung’s path, but that didn’t stop the man. He softly pushed Jimin away, eyes set on you.

“Taehyung.”

Taehyung ignored the calls for his name and took long strides to reach you, hand traveling down to grip your wrist, and his other helping you stand up.

In a blink of an eye, his hand slithered around to wrap it around your waist, letting his palm rest on the small of your back. He brought you closer, his other hand traveling up your arm, to your shoulder, until it reached the back of your head. His lips were brushing against yours, breaths tingling and intertwining with the others, and you swore your lips were pulling to his like they were magnets.

His thumbs brushed away your tears.

“Give me permission to kiss you and I’ll do it,” he breathed out, holding you like he was inhaling you. “If that’s what will make you better.”

“You’re not asking,” you mumbled in a breath, your nose being hit by the faint smell of his cologne.

“Fuck, I just need to kiss you so badly, please,” he pleaded, fingers slightly gripping your hip until white dents were left behind in their wake. “Please.”

You nodded rapidly against his hold.

He breathed in and kissed you with such intensity and desire, almost as if he had been holding back for years from kissing you. Soft, muffled moans escaped his mouth into yours, his hand gripping your hair a bit tighter to bring you even closer.

“He’s devouring her,” Jimin whispered to the others while they watched you two make out almost in need. “I told you bringing him here was a bad—Taehyung, put her down.”

They watched Taehyung pick you up from the ground, hand situated on your ass while the other gripped your thigh. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck, and your lips still on his despite the change of position.

Kissing Taehyung felt like drinking water after being dehydrated for days, you noted.

His lips felt soft and the way he held you, touched you, and talked to you was enough for you to feel everything all at once. Every single guy made you feel more than you bargained for and you don’t know how to act. None of them knew how to act, either.

“No,” Taehyung dismissed Jimin, placing you on the wall with his hands still in his desired places. God, kissing you was a blessing itself, but having you in his hands all to himself was enough to keep him so happy and relieved. Kissing you was something. “She’s mine.”

“Okay, possessive bitch, leave her alone,” Jimin scoffed out, crossing his arms. Though, he couldn’t help but admit he loved watching you two fully make out in your home. Your safe place. “Make some space for me.”

Jin and Yoongi watched you and Taehyung go from kissing each other to now taking turns kissing the other person added. Your legs had unwrapped themselves from Taehyung’s waist, your feet now placed on the floor, and you were in between both men, caged in their arms, your lips smacking against Jimin’s and then Taehyung’s back and forth.

“This is a bad idea,” Yoongi sighed, shaking his head. “They’re eating her alive.”

“At least they won’t come to you every second of the day to ask for that,” Jin said with a chuckle, finding the scenery amusing. He glanced down at his watch. “It is getting late. Oh, God. That movie has some type of magic, my chest hurt for a sec, I swear.”

Yoongi nodded in agreement. “I know. I watched the movie by myself when I was sick and I couldn’t finish it. It was too painful.”

They continued to watch you three make out, their eyes following your guys’ hands touching and yearning for each other.

They weren’t going to lie but, they felt something in the pit of their stomachs just looking at you three.

Jimin and Taehyung’s hands gripped your waist, bringing you closer. Their breaths intertwined with your own, their moans, too. They kissed you as if you were going to leave, as if you would disappear if they stopped. What did you do to ever deserve this? And what did they ever do to be blessed with you? Not enough. They’ll do more for you. If you want the moon, they’ll find a way to buy it and name it after you. If you want the stars, they’ll buy every sparkly little piece of shit and name it after you. Your name deserves to grace beautiful things because you are the most beautiful of them all. Everyone deserves to utter your name when they look at the things the universe has graced them with.

“I need to breathe,” you softly breathe out, your hands on the back of their heads. You softly gasped as Taehyung’s lips trailed down your neck and Jimin claimed your lips again, both equally as bruising.

Jimin chuckled at the noise and looked at Taehyung. “Taehyung, let her breathe.”

Taehyung shook his head, teeth grazing the skin of your neck to suck on it. His lips kissed each mark he left behind before looking at you with the same hooded eyes he looked at you with.

“Do you want to breathe, angel?” He muttered, holding your face closer to his while the pad of his thumb ran itself over your bottom glossy lip. “Hmm?”

“Just for a sec.”

He smiled before he rubbed his lips against yours. “One.” As you went to ask him what he meant by that number, he kissed you. Jimin snorted and backed away, shaking his head.

“He’s much more tamer compared to when he got together with us,” he noted, very amused. “Should we warn her about that?”

Yoongi scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re going to scare her off before she could kiss us.” He gave you two one more look before he turned around. “Let the poor girl breathe, Taehyung. Pretty sure she’s about to faint.”

“I think I’m about to faint because of how it feels,” Taehyung muttered out loud, taking you back to the wall so he could feel you up better that way.

“He’s acting like a starved man,” Jin whispered rather dramatically, looking at you with worry. “I feel like we would lock him away for her safety, God.”

“Taehyung!” Jin snapped.

Taehyung didn’t flinch. Instead, he leaned back a bit, looking at them over his shoulder. He hummed, staring back at you and kissing your lips softly.

“Come on, you can see her tomorrow,” Jimin snorted out, loving the way you were much more comfortable.

“Why?” Taehyung muttered, tracing your lips. He couldn’t like away from them and your eyes. Your pretty eyes, such pretty eyes. He softly groaned. “God, don’t look at me like that please.”

“Taehyung.”

“You drive me so fucking crazy I’ll do anything for you,” he whispered as if it was a secret.

“Taehyung.”

“The way you taste and smell,” he continued to speak in a hush voice, lips trailing from your jawbone to your neck, “I could devour you whole.” He raised his head to look at you from under his lashes, his hand bringing up one of yours to kiss. “Will you let me?”

You smile and could see over his shoulder that the boys were looking at you three with happy eyes.

“Taehyung, if I say yes,” you started, “will you go home and go to sleep?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep until I have you,” he said, not looking away from your lips.

“Okay, you can see her tomorrow,” Jimin scoffed with a smile. He dragged Taehyung away from you, ignoring his attempts to convince him to let him go so he can stay here in your home. Yoongi grabbed him away. “Sweet dreams, pretty girl.”

Jimin kissed you on the lips, backing away to taste your chapstick. “Wear that flavor. It tastes good.”

You snorted and led them out, watching Yoongi and Jin place a desperate Taehyung on the backseat. You stood on your driveway and waved. Jin came back to give you a kiss on the forehead and Yoongi, much to everyone’s surprise, gave you a quick peck. His left you gasping in surprise. You couldn’t even enjoy it.

“Bye, angel.”

“Bye…”

Everyone was busy the next day Taehyung swore he would die if he didn’t see in that exact moment.

He was tugging on his hair until Hoseok had to intervene, slapping his hands away.

He was dozing off, thinking about you and the pillow talk you would have after spending the night together.

He was loving the way his brain would visualize how life would be with you in their relationship, complete. He can die happily knowing that he has all the loves of his life with him.

Jin couldn’t stop thinking about you, on the other hand. None of them could stop. You were so embedded in their brains, they swore they could hear your voice until they snapped their heads and you weren’t there.

What have you done to them?

What type of spell have you put on them?

They didn’t know what but, they loved thinking of you, and they couldn’t complain. No. They couldn’t and they wouldn’t.

It was 6 PM.

You have been “together” for 2 to 3-ish months today.

You maintained lowkey and on the low, and managed to convince everyone that you two were in a relationship. You had doubters here and there but nothing serious.

As for your allegations, there hasn’t been an improvement. It’s hard knowing who did it and not being able to point fingers because you do not have evidence or anything valuable of some sorts.

6:30 PM.

You were in a meeting with Jae and Jake, talking about the new movie you were with Hyung-min that you two have been going over with together. He was there, too, but he was a bit farther away from you. He didn’t want to even hug you just in case he accidentally hurt you.

At 6:32 PM, your phone went off.

At 6:33 PM, your phone went off again.

And again.

At 6:36, Jae’s went off next.

Then Jake’s.

Jae looked at her phone once she noticed you simply shut yours off and just as she was going to shut it off, too, she eyed her notifications.

Her eyes widened and she stood up.

“Oh, no.”

You frown and look at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Y/n… do not go on your phone,” she strictly told you, still looking at her phone. She was typing away and Jake, having looked down at his phone, too, felt his shoulders tense. “Call her PR team. Call the president of the company and alert a meeting ASAP.”

“Hey, what’s going on?” You frown, standing up alongside Hyung-min who had glanced at his phone, too, to see what had his girlfriend panicked. “Jae?”

“Babe, it came out,” Jae stressed, fixing her glasses slipping from the bridge of her nose.

“What did?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest, your hands becoming clammy at the thought of something of yours coming out. “Jae?”

“That stupid thing Namjoon was threatening you with,” she snapped. She calmed herself down. She didn’t even feel this stressed over your bullying allegations. “Remember he said he had something about your sister?” You nodded. “Honey, it got leaked. It’s everywhere.”

“What?” You froze. Your brain froze. Your thoughts were not circulating no more, and you felt numb. “What? Give me the phone.”

You snatched her phone away from her hands and read the article she was reading.

Your chest heaved up and down at coming to see she was telling the truth.

“This can’t be happening. This can’t.”

“I know…”

“I hid that for a reason!” You exclaimed, starting to pace. Hyung-min stood next to you, comforting you. You breathed in and out harshly. “Oh, my God…”

Your secret was out.

< before - after >

fast lane | kim seokjin (m)

pairing: Seokjin x Reader genre/warnings: FormulaOneRacer!Jin, PitCrew!Reader, enemies to lovers, only partially factual depiction of the formula one, brief scenes of car accidents, mentions of injuries, alcohol consumption, smut, oral sex(receiving), (not quite) cumplay, unprotected sex (please be safe and responsible no matter what you read in fanfiction!) words: 20.6k summary: “Disgruntledly, you think to yourself how frustrating it is he can be quite so awful of a person and still be so good looking.” Alternatively; Boy Toy racer Kim Seokjin lives to test; the laws of speed, how many women he can bag, how much money he can convince people to give him, and quite how far you can be pushed before you snap.

a/n: this is a month and a half late, but at least I finished it <3 Happy very belated Birthday Seokjinnie!

Sponsor parties were mundane. Not even the fancy hors d’oeuvres, nor the free champagne could change that fact, though you might not be quite so bored had you been someone worth paying attention to.

The room was filled with men in suits and women in sparkling jewels and long dresses, all their faces marred with pride leaving them all to blur together, hard to decipher one rich benefactor from the next. And you were but a little person, wearing a dress you got far cheaper than it had looked and owning a name that meant nothing to those who’d not bother to ask.

And so you stayed within a few metre radius of the refreshments table, hovering as comfortably as you could get while periodically reaching for another bite sized snack, ignoring the judgmental glance you were shot with each empty glass flute you traded for a full. Though you weren’t alone, any member belonging to a pit crew standing about in quite the same way, and you were comforted by your fellow garage rat beside you, regardless of how comfortable Jimin managed to look in a suit.

“Don’t eat that, they’re gross.” You glance up as Jimin elbows your side carelessly, fingers slipping and dropping the small tartelette back onto its plate with a clink. You have to remind yourself not to automatically wipe the slight greasy residue on your fingers against the side of your dress, and pinch the napkin in your hand between thumb and forefinger, glaring at Jimin in turn. “Trust me, that was the first mistake I made tonight.”

Keep reading

No one else But you {Nanami Kento x Reader September One-Shot}

Summary: You have always loved Nanami since childhood however you learned that he has someone he loves. Would you confess or not?

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything except for my characters and plot.

Warning/Genre: OOC, Romance, Fluff, Angst, Comedy, Depression AU (Sorry for the miss grammar)

Sorry for the long wait! HERE IT IS! I hope you enjoyed it!

CEO Nanami Kento x Reader (slight mention of Geto x Gojo)

You have experienced unrequited crushes since you were a teenager; however, a painful unrequited love is a first for you.

Back when you were in high school, you had a crush on your senior, Gojo Satoru.

You had long forgotten what made you fall for such an idiotic man.

It might have been his charisma, his handsome face, his beautiful eyes, or his skills in being good at anything he took interest in.

However, that only lasted in your second year of high school. Satoru, on the other hand, was in his last year, preparing for graduation and entering college life.

You didn’t know how your group had formed with the famous 3rd-year trio.

But Kento and Yu have been your childhood friends since your family moved into their neighbourhood. So being admitted into the same school was no surprise.

Yet at some point in time, your group somehow merged with the 3rd year trio who were popular in their year.

One is Gojo Satoru for his loud and charismatic personality combined with his handsome face, eccentric hair and blue eyes.

Second is Geto Suguru for his mysterious and calm persona. He's also handsome with his long black hair, which seems to tantalize girls and adds to his charm.

And lastly, one of the school beauties is Ieri Shoko, a brown-haired beauty. She was one of the top students in your school, admitted to a prestigious medical university.

Of course, the two were the same, they were guaranteed a spot in the top college of their own choice.

It was quite comical really. A group of juniors being grouped together with some 3rd years.

Even up to this day, it astonished you how your group had formed, but you could still recall it. It was because of your crush on Gojo that these unlikely people had met and formed.

As the years passed, the two completely different groups of friends remained in touch and grew even closer, especially as you all entered college and made new friends. Your group seems to grow bigger.

In one of your favourite restaurant bars, some of your friends were already there and had started drinking by the time you arrived.

Gojo seems to have taken on the role of a host as Geto and some of your friends have yet to come.

The same could be said about your two childhood friends.

Yu was on his way to pick up his girlfriend from work. They would arrive together later, while Kento was still busy at work with Geto, working on a collaboration project.

Both of them had become the CEO of their own company. Each works really hard to create their own.

You couldn't be more proud of Kento for achieving his dream.

Sitting down in one of the booths, you ordered a drink. Watching as your white-haired friend drank and tried to liven up the party. At the same time, teasing and making fun of your friends and catching up.

You couldn’t help the smile on your lips.

Even though you were in a bar, it was a quiet one. One where you could have a drink and relax with soft music playing in the background.

The bar is illuminated with a cozy ambient from the lights. It was one of your favourites because of the atmosphere and the delicious cocktails and foods they make.

The bartender owner greeted you with a smile and served your drink. Taking a sip, you savour the sweet flavour and alcohol on your tongue, feeling the fatigue slowly ease from your body.

Your shoulders, tense from all the work, relaxed unknowingly.

Turning around, you started chatting with your friends, laughing and catching up, and ordering foods to fill your stomach.

As the alcohol flowed and the atmosphere warmed up, some people's tongues loosened and gossip started flowing.

Flicking the ash from her cigarette, Shoko asked, "So, how's it going with Nanami? I've noticed something more between the two of you lately."

You looked up at your friend, your eyebrow furrowing in confusion.

"What do you mean?" You asked. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Your friend rolled her eyes, her voice lazy as she teased you.

"You and Nanami. What? Don't tell me you haven't confessed even though he has already returned from abroad. You should take the chance. Don't wait for him to confess first, or you might miss your chance."

Hearing this, you panicked and tried to cover her mouth. However, it was in vain as your other friends turned their heads in your direction, curiosity in their eyes, ready to hear more about this juicy gossip.

Shoko just laughed and gave you a smirk.

"It's not like others don't know… more like they already know your painstaking love for your childhood friend for a long time"

She exhaled a puff of cigarette smoke and watched it drift lazily into the air.

"My dear, you wear your heart on your sleeve too easily. The only one who doesn't know is your beloved Nanami."

“Shoko, please! Will you be quiet!” You pleaded as you leaned over and tapped her on the arm, feeling your face flush.

Groaning, you buried your face in your hand.

"Hmm? What's this? I heard something about Y/n and Nanami. Is there something going on?" Gojo asked in a sing-along tone as he came over.

It seems the commotion between you and Shoko caught his attention and now he's ready to milk you dry for gossip, even though you have none.

“Nothing is going on,” You stated as you gave Gojo a slight glare, warning him to drop the topic. But the man seemed to not get the hint or if he did, he ignored it, feigning ignorance.

"Oh, come on now. Don't be stingy."

You groaned again as you shook your head, feeling an incoming headache already.

Taking a sip of your new cocktail, you tried to ignore the man and hoped he would drop the topic. However, Shoko and Gojo didn't seem keen on stopping as they continued to tease you.

“I was just asking about her and Nanami,” Shoko said as she gave a knowing look at Gojo.

Gojo smirked as he glanced at you, taking the hint. A mischievous glint in his eyes.

“And here I thought you were still crushing on me. How could you cheat on me, Y/n?” He pouted, his smooth lips jutting out and the corners of his eyes pointing down as he looked aggrieved at you.

“I didn’t know that you and Nanami were in that kind of relationship.”

“We’re not.” You snapped, starting to get annoyed at the man-child in front of you.

Both of your friends gave you a look, not believing you in the slightest.

"Just admit it, Y/n. We've seen how sad you were when Nanami went abroad to study. You were so wrecked that you lost so much weight and almost failed your first year of University. You were so miserable without him."

Shoko raised a brow at you as if proving a point, continuing.

"We've also known that you have always loved Nanami all this time, even though you had a little bit of 'scandal' with this idiot here."

She pointed at Gojo, who placed a hand over his heart and appeared offended.

"What scandal? Miss, for your information, I have always been a clean man." He stated, his chin pointing up, being dramatic.

You rolled your eyes at him for his exaggeration and turned your head to avoid your friends' inquisitive looks.

You admit that you had a crush on Gojo when you were in high school. You were attracted to his confident personality and handsome face, but that only lasted until graduation.

However, when Kento went abroad to further his education, that's when you realized that your feelings for him were more than just being a childhood friend.

You were in love with him.

You just never realized it. Since growing up, you have been so used to having him by your side that you have unconsciously taken his presence for granted

But when he left, you felt a massive hole open in your heart. An empty feeling inside you as if another part of you has gone missing.

Because of it, you slowly spiralled down from the sudden realization, leaving you a mess.

You have been in contact with Kento through text, but as time passed, it became harder to maintain. With the time difference between where Kento is and how busy you have been with your University life, your contacts slowly dwindled.

And now it has been almost a year before he contacted you again.

Picking up your phone without checking the caller ID, your eyes instantly reddened when you heard his voice, calm and composed as ever.

"How have you been, Y/n?"

It was Kento.

You choked back a sob as tears slowly gathered in your eyes. A deep ache echoed inside you. How much you have missed his voice.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your voice, not wanting to give anything away, as you know that even a little he would be able to pick up on it.

"I'm doing well. Just busy with school. I didn't anticipate our professor assigning such a huge project right at the start and it seems to keep piling up no matter what."

You scold yourself. Of all the things you have to say, you just have to complain to him even though he finally contacted you after such a long time.

"How have you been, Kento? I hope you're doing well. I've heard that winter there was harsher than here," You awkwardly chuckled, trying to play it off.

"It's not too bad, but I do miss the weather there." Kento's short answer tugged at your heartstrings. Slowly, a tear escaped and rolled down your cheek. You blinked hard, trying to stop the others from falling.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before Kento spoke again.

"....I heard from Yu. It seems you haven't been doing well."

You froze.

You didn't expect Yu to tell Kento about your condition, though with the anxious looks he's been giving you lately, you guess it was a given.

Looking at yourself in the window, your reflection stared back at you. You noticed the dark, hollowed cheeks, dark circles under your eyes, and dry lips.

Your body had obviously lost so much weight that you could feel your bones protruding. Your arms and legs were nothing but nearly skin and bones. Your face is gaunt and haggard.

It appears that no matter how much you hide your circumstances from your friends, it was pointless, especially from Yu.

You realize what a mess you really were in. How much of an asshole you have been for making your friends worry to the point that they have to contact Kento about you.

You gave a strained laugh, "They're worrying too much. It's just...university has been a little tough. I'm still in my first year so it's a given-"

"Don't lie, Y/n." Kento interrupted, his stern voice making it impossible for you to utter another lie.

He's always been like this. He always knew when you were lying.

The tears you had been holding back came crashing down, and all the pent-up emotions you had been suppressing came pouring out like a tidal wave. You couldn't stop the tears from flowing, and your shoulders shook with sobs.

You pulled the phone away from your ear, trying to muffle your sobs and you couldn't help but whisper, "...I miss you so much, Kento."

And just like that, with a few words, Kento was able to break the dam in your heart.

Your cries came out softly, but you were sure Kento heard you. He didn't end the call, but stayed silent, giving you a moment to let it all out and calm down.

Even though Kento was thousands of miles away, you felt his presence beside you, listening and never leaving you. You knew that he would always be there for you, no matter what.

After a few minutes had passed, you wiped your tears and tried to compose yourself but the soft hiccups still escaped your mouth.

"Y/n" Kento whispered, his voice incredibly soft and tender, soothing your turbulent heart.

"...hmm"

"I'll come back. Wait for me, okay?"

The tears, you thought you had finally stopped from earlier, flowed down your face again.

You swear Kento has a knack for making you cry so easily lately you couldn't help but ponder just where he learned such a thing.

Sniffling, you nodded however you remembered that he couldn't see you.

"Mmm..." You gave a soft reply as you sobbed and cried again.

What he said wasn't a promise but a statement.

You know that Kento doesn't make promises because he finds them nonsense and fragile. But you also know that he is a man of his word, and when he says something, he means it.

So when he says he'll come back, you know he will.

It was one of the reasons why you have loved this man.

You made a resolve to start getting back on your feet and working towards a goal.

You were determined to face Kento when he returned with the best version of yourself. Not wanting to show such a miserable wreck that you once were.

If he ever rejects you, at least you can say that you did everything you could and gave it your best. That way, you won't have any regrets.

"Ah~ but I've heard that Nanami has someone he has been in love though."

Gojo's voice snapped you out of your reverie, and a pang of realization washed over you.

It made you remember why you had been so distant from Kento lately.

When Kento finally returned from his studies abroad, you were the first one to greet him at the airport.

You were shocked by how much he had changed. The boy you knew from years ago was now a man.

Mature and calm. Taller with broad shoulders and a lean waist, handsome with a slender brow and sharp eyes, the naivete that was once there is gone.

Instead of a high school uniform, Kento now wears a suit, and his hair is slicked back with an undercut.

No more of the side bangs that you once always played with.

He was so different yet still the same.

He still has that same stern and reserved personality but cares for those close to him, especially to you.

Once you two reunited, you were so happy. You made sure to always try to meet him despite your busy schedule, trying to make up for all those years that you were apart.

At the same time, you also wanted to show your interest but you also know to show some restraint. You didn't want to scare him.

For now, you were content that he was back.

However, one afternoon, just as you were about to meet with Kento to ask him out to dinner, you overheard a conversation between Geto and Gojo.

The conversation was about Kento, and you couldn't help but eavesdrop.

Geto and Kento had recently started a joint project for their two companies.

So it was no coincidence that you found him in Kento's company's rest areas while Gojo was one of the biggest shareholders in Geto's company. It was a given he was also a part of the project.

You took a step back so as not to be spotted and heard your white-haired friend ask if Kento had a girlfriend as one of his female coworkers seems to be interested in your childhood friend.

Hearing this you couldn't help but frown, your hand clenching and a sour feeling rose in your chest.

Geto chuckled and shook his head.

"Really?" Gojo asked in surprise.

"I thought for sure he had a girlfriend since he seems to be the type to settle down first. Or maybe even a fiance."

"No, he doesn't have one but he does have a girl he really loves," Geto said as he exhaled a puff of smoke, tapping his cigarette.

"He was planning to ask her to be his girlfriend, but something happened and it didn't work out. However, I heard from him that he's planning to ask her again."

Gojo perked up.

"Really! Who is it? Who is Nanami in love with? Do I know her?" He asked excitedly, leaning forward as curiosity got the better of him.

Geto only chuckled at the man's antics before patting him on the head, telling him it wasn't appropriate to tell too much as it was not his place to share such a secret.

Gojo could only whine at his friend and dropped the subject, understanding that no matter how much he pestered Geto, his friend would not budge and reveal the identity of the woman Nanami was in love with.

He instead brought up a new topic to discuss, leaving you wondering who was the girl Kento was in love with.

You were stunned. A myriad of emotions surged through your mind in an instant but eventually, they all melted into a strong feeling of bitterness.

No wonder Kento never had a girlfriend for so many years. It turned out he had someone in his heart all along and now he seems intent on getting back with that girl.

You couldn't help but wonder.

What kind of girl does he like? What does the girl Kento love, look like? If that girl came back to him, would he surrender immediately and reconcile with her?

You even absurdly imagine them together.

Feeling a sob escape your mouth, you hurriedly went home that day, cancelling on Kento through a short message. You didn't call him as you didn't trust your voice not to tremble once you heard his voice.

That day, you drank until you couldn't stand.

You were glad you were home and never went out, otherwise you would have called Kento and made a mess of things, which you would have regretted later.

However, ever since then, you have distanced yourself from him.

Avoiding every gathering with your friends to try to minimize the chances of running into him.

You respect Kento too much to burden him with your feelings and ruin everything. You might resent the fact that the girl he loves might not be you but you still wanted to be friends with him no matter what.

Besides, you also have your own principles that you abide by, not wanting to put yourself in a complicated situation if the girl returns.

But by avoiding him so suddenly, he quickly noticed.

He tried to call you, wanting to confront you about such a sudden change.

You could only make an excuse that you were busy with work, but he knew that wasn't the whole truth.

And since knowing Kento for so long, you already know he wasn't the type to let this matter pester for so long and would eventually resort to seeing you in person.

However, you didn't want to see him, not until you could sort out your feelings for him or else you risk breaking down in front of him.

Without any other choice, you quickly set up to go on a business trip.

Successfully stopping him from seeing you as he wouldn't be able to chase after you because his company was in a crucial situation with the current project he was working on.

Thanks to it, you have been able to avoid him completely however, this time you couldn't turn down the invitation as one of your friends is getting engaged.

You knew you couldn't hide forever, and you didn't want to miss your friend's special day so, in the end, you concede.

Meeting him became inevitable.

Anxious and nervous, you have been drinking a lot since the moment you sat down, trying to calm your nerves and distract yourself.

But once they started talking about Kento and you, the bitter feelings you had been able to push back slowly rose in your chest and your mood turned sour.

You unconsciously started drinking heavily and because of it, your temper became fickle.

Eyeing the man in front of you, childishly making fun of your previous crush on him and on Kento, you couldn't help but realize that the man-child in front of you was the reason why this all started.

Suddenly, the urge to wipe that grin off his face with a slap was so dangerously tempting that your hand twitched.

However, you have been a person to never resort to such action and unnecessary violence. So you tried to think of something, attempting to divert your attention or else you might just do it.

You sigh to calm down but a dark expression still shows on your face.

Seeing this, Gojo eye's gleam with mischievous, unaware that he had stepped a foot on his grave, pushing you over the edge.

"What? Someone's jealous? Maybe I should try being your cupid and set you up with Nanami? Hmm? Maybe by then, I could give your pretty little ass a boost and not be a coward anymore."

Your lip twitched.

Maybe wiping that smug look on his face isn't so bad after all, you thought.

Lifting a hand and caressing his cheeks, you caught him off guard.

You gave a dark smile and a shiver involuntary went down his spine, his back sweating bullets.

SMACK!

Walking out of their own car and heading to the restaurant bar, Nanami and Geto let out a sigh of relief, taking off their jacket and loosened their tie.

They have just finished a meeting that has gone on for hours than necessary.

And now having finally finished, all they wanted was to drink, eat and relax throughout the night before being plunged to work the next day.

However, when they entered the bar, what awaited them was not what they had expected as they witnessed you and Gojo in the middle of the bar, engaged in a brawl.

Clearly, both of you were drunk as your faces were red not only from anger but from the alcohol as well. Your words slurring as the two of you yelled at each other.

What started as a harmless teasing quickly escalated into a messy, comedic fight for your friends to witness.

Holding onto Gojo's shirt and the other on his hair, the tall man has no other choice but to bend down as he did the same to you.

Some scratches and light bruises scattered throughout your body and face. Your clothes and hair a mess.

Gojo shouted, "I'm a liar?! What I said is the truth! You're a goddamn coward!"

"You say I'm a coward, what makes you then?!" You shouted as well, breathing heavily and glared at him.

You tug at his hair earning a yelp.

"Don't think I'm clueless you goddamn man-child. I saw it when you two graduated and Geto-senpai confessed! All these years and your relationship hasn't progressed at all! You two have been together and never left each other side and yet you haven't admitted that you love him. You've done nothing but play him all along."

A vein bulged at his forehead, irritated, Gojo pulled at your hair making you groan.

"Shut up you goddamn woman!"

"Fuck you! You white hair old bastard! Just fucking go and splayed your goddamn legs in front of Geto-senpai and finally get laid! You horny bastard!"

You yelled while your friends who have been calmly watching the whole time, even the owner, laughed at your nonsense screaming match.

That right.

When you secretly witness Geto's confession to Gojo on their graduation day that's when you realize.

Your crush for Gojo was nothing more than an admiration because of his confidence. Confidence in being himself while he unknowingly becomes a love-struck fool for Geto.

You envy and wanted that.

You wanted to be a love-struck fool for Kento but your insecurity and low self-esteem prevented you from confessing your love for the handsome man.

However, seeing that this goddamn idiot had done nothing when he had all the chance in the world while you, on the other hand, were a mess, missing Kento, who was abroad and had no face to confess since the memories of you crushing on such an idiotic guy were still fresh in everyone's mind, made you angry to no end.

You slump as your knees got weak not just from the alcohol but from all the feelings you have been holding back, your previous energy leaving you as the bitter feelings spread inside you.

Tears started flowing and falling on your cheeks without your permission. Seeing this Gojo froze, his grip loosening and the once lively bar slowly quieted as you softly cried.

"No...I'm the goddamn idiot here... I've also had the chance... the chance to confess and love Kento but because I'm a coward I didn't take it..."

You admitted.

That's right. You were angry not only because of this bastard but mostly at yourself for being the biggest idiot ever.

And now, learning that Kento has someone he loves and is thinking of being engaged with her.

Regret filled you to the point of suffocation.

"I only had myself to blame..."

You whimper, now completely drunk as you lose coherence and kneel on the floor.

You felt as though everything was crumbling. Slowly losing your mind as you sink further in your sorrow.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed your waist, lifting you from the floor and pulling you away from Gojo's grasp.

You were brought into a warm embrace, your head resting on a broad chest.

It was then that you heard Kento's voice.

Deep, calm and mature, a voice that always makes your heart flutter and the voice that you have come to love.

"I'll be taking her home as she's too drunk," Kento said, carrying you in his arms as he talked to your friends while Geto dealt with Gojo.

You couldn't help but nuzzle further in his arms, burying your head in his neck and hugging him tightly. Unknowingly, Kento's breath hitched and his heart quivered from your actions.

Geto nodded, saying he'd be taking Gojo as well who was completely drunk, his head was swaying from all directions. His legs no longer had any strength to hold him, already unconscious.

Adjusting you in his arms, Nanami looked at you and found that you were completely unconscious.

He sighs but an undeniable faint blush on the corner of his cheeks and ears can be seen if you look closely.

Ieri who had been enjoying the show and her drinks, saw it and she smiled knowingly as she watched Nanami take your things.

"Nanami" Ierie called and Nanami looked at her.

"Be nice to her, okay?"

Nanami's expression didn't change, but he replied softly, "I will."

Nodding at your friends and the bar owner, Nanami carried you out and into his car that was parked outside.

He opened the car door and put you down, taking a moment to look at you and saw your tear-streaked face.

When he reached out to wipe away your tears, your lashes brushed against his fingers. He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm down then got into the driver's seat, intent to take you home.

This time, he was determined to talk to you, even if you didn't want to. He wasn't going to let you go anytime soon.

Waking up, you groggily sat up as you looked around.

Clearly, it wasn't your room as the bedsheets were different. They were grey coloured and quite soft made of a different material from the ones you use.

The pieces of furniture were simple but obviously high-end and looked strangely familiar.

You didn't know how you got here nor did you remember what happened after you slapped Gojo but the feeling of being carried lingered in the back of your mind.

"Your awake." A deep husky voice said as the door opened.

It was Kento, holding a glass of water.

It finally dawned on you that you were in his place. You have been into his apartment a few times in the past however this was your first time staying over.

A nervous feeling settled in your stomach and felt your cheeks flushing. Whether from the lingering alcohol on your body or because of your feelings and the situation you are in, you don't know.

Still drunk and dazed, you obediently accepted the glass of water and took a few sips before setting it down on the nightstand.

An awkward silence envelops the two of you as Kento sat at the edge of the bed. His arms rested on his thigh and looking at you from the corner of his eyes, deep in thought.

You fidgeted. Your head lowered as you played with the bedsheet in your hand, feeling the soft fabric. You didn't know whether you should talk or not.

From the corner of your eyes, you stare at the man that you have been avoiding these past couple of weeks.

Two of his dress shirt buttons were undone, revealing his slender neck and chest, showing a hint of his muscular physique.

His sleeves were rolled up and you couldn't help but gaze at his forearms. The veins stood out along his arms, and his hands were large with defined knuckles and slender fingers.

His hair was slick back however few strands were sticking out, clearly messed up after a long day.

You might have been drunk nevertheless you still remember bit and pieces how he has carefully brought you from his car to his room.

Gently carrying you, laying you down and assisting you change from your work clothes to one of his.

Helplessly you thought, how could a man be so handsome and so caring at the same time.

Your eyes reddened.

The sour feeling from before sprang up again and tears gathered in your eyes.

Lifting a trembling hand, you covered your mouth as a sob escaped, trying to hide it, not wanting to make the situation worse.

You felt the bed shift then two rough and large hands cup your cheeks, raising your face.

Completely opposite from his usual reserve and stern expression, Kento looks at you with concern in his eyes.

"What's wrong, Y/n?" He asked, voice gentle and soft trying to calm you however hearing such tenderness, your cries seemed to grow even louder.

You stayed quiet. Pondering whether to confess everything or not, however, your heart got the best of you and you blurted.

"I love you. I love you, Kento. I have been ever since. I have always loved you... Please don't leave me." You cried as you confessed, your words became disjointed and frantic as you went on.

You didn't know what was Kento's reaction as large tears rolled down from your eyes, obscuring your vision.

You were sure you looked pathetic at that moment as you cried but that didn't matter anymore as you let it all out.

Long years of repressed emotions have completely overwhelmed you.

Your regret when Kento left, your joy when the two of you reunited. The searing pain of learning the truth that Kento has someone in his heart.

The jealousy and sorrow you drowned in as you distance yourself and finally the overwhelming love you hold for the man in front of you.

As you continued crying and repeating your confession like a broken record, warm lips suddenly sealed your lips, stopping your words.

Kento kissed you.

A strong, fierce and almost devouring one with a mix of revenge, and seeking reparation.

It only seemed to deepen as you felt his hand grab the back of your neck while the other drew you closer and tightened his embrace, as if afraid you would disappear.

You couldn't resist and kiss him back with just as much passion as you could.

Lifting your arms, you hugged his neck and pulled him closer while Kento lifted you in his lap, straddling him.

You kissed as if the both of you couldn't bear to separate. Your tongues danced and lips melted with each other.

You couldn't help but let out a moan, calling his name in desperation. A sweet tingling sensation runs through your body, making your toes curl.

It wasn't until the need to breathe that you pulled back.

Resting your forehead against his, you closed your eyes and felt your breaths intertwining.

Kento cups your face, caressing it and look into your eyes as you open them.

Longing, tenderness and adoration.

Emotions you never saw before now lingered in his eyes

"I love you too, Y/n." He said, his voice so tender and full of affection, it left you breathless.

"But what about the girl you like?"

Kento frowns, confusion in his eyes.

"I heard from Geto that you have someone you have loved for a long time." You quietly said.

Your voice trembling, just asking that question tormented you like no other but you had to.

You have to know who it is even if you are afraid of what Kento's answer might be.

Thinking this, your tears seemed like they would never dry as droplets fell on your cheeks.

Finally understanding what you mean and where you're coming from, Kento chuckled, wiping your cheeks and kissing you on the lips again before moving on to your neck where he felt your pulse.

"The person I love is you. I have loved you ever since and have always been. No one else but you."

You sat stunned for a moment as his confession slowly sank.

You sniffled and a fresh wave of tears fell however compared from before it was out of happiness.

Pulling Kento, you hugged him and fell onto the bed and this time, without reserve, you kissed him first.

Extra:

As morning came and illuminated the room in a soft light, Geto was just finishing his talk with Nanami on the phone when he heard the white-haired man in his bed groan in pain, holding his head.

Putting his phone away, Geto went to the kitchen to boil some water.

A few minutes later, he came back with a cup of honey lemon tea, handing it to Gojo.

Gojo who was in pain from a massive hang-over, didn't notice his friend staring at him in silence and quietly sip the hot tea.

"...So, is it true that you love me too?"

"PSHHH!"

Gojo spat out the tea, blushing, "..."

Let's just say another engagement party was arranged later on.

A/n: I had a hard time finishing writing this one shot.

It became longer and longer as I wrote when I was only planning to make a shorter one but then the plot just kept coming up and didn't know how to finish it. In the end, I had to torture myself to stick with it and finish it after more than 3 weeks of non-stop writing.

God, I'm such a masochist.😭

However, as I was writing the confession part, I couldn't help but start crying and I had to stop midway laughing at myself like a maniac. Oh my god.😭

I swear I won't be doing another long one-shot anytime soon. My brain was mush after this.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this fic!

{All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author}

6 Levi's horrible flirting skills! 9

-> Part 1 and 2!

-> Part 3!

-> Part 4!

-> Part 5!

-> Part 6!

-> Part 7!

-> Part 8!

-> Part 9!

-> Part 10!

-> Part 11!

How JJK Men React to Seeing You in Their Clothes

Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Megumi x fem!reader; Yuta x fem!reader; Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Warnings: fluff over fluff, I'm pretty sure I already wrote something like this but I can't find it anymore lol, all scenarios talk about the clothes of the said jjk men being big on you so please don't read if this isn't what you vibe with (but feel free to let me know if you want a version in which their clothes actually fit reader quite well!)

Gojo Satoru

The apartment is unusually quiet as you move through the living room, your bare feet padding lightly across the cool floor. Gojo had left early this morning to deal with some “business,” leaving you alone with nothing but a mess of his belongings scattered around. You’re not one to complain though - cleaning up after him has become second nature after spending so much time together.

As you tidy up his place, you come across one of his oversized hoodies. It’s sprawled across the back of a chair, still slightly wrinkled from when he wore it the night before. The faint scent of his cologne lingers in the fabric, and for reasons you can’t quite explain, you find yourself reaching for it.

It’s soft, much softer than you expected. You hold it for a moment, staring at it thoughtfully before a mischievous grin tugs at your lips. You slip the hoodie over your head, the fabric swallowing you whole. The sleeves are comically long, almost covering your hands completely, and the hemline reaches down to your thighs. It’s so big that it feels like you’re wearing a blanket, and despite yourself, you giggle at the sight of your reflection in the hallway mirror.

You sit down on the couch, pulling your legs up under the hoodie, and let yourself relax into the comfort of wearing something that smells like him. His signature cologne that follows him around wherever he goes, that makes your heart skip a beat every time you smell it. To be honest, you really miss him. These past weeks were so busy that you didn’t really get the chance to see him more than 2 hours before passing out sleeping. What you’d do for a whole afternoon, just you and him…

Not long after, you hear the oh so accustomed sound of the door unlocking, followed by the familiar voice of Satoru calling out, “I’m home!”

You stiffen for a moment, wondering how he’ll react, but you can’t hide now. Fuck, you never wore his clothes before. After all, they belong to him and you have no right to grab his stuff as you please.

Before you can say anything to defend yourself, Gojo steps into the living room, his bright blue eyes immediately locking onto you.

There’s a beat of silence. Then, a slow, amused grin spreads across his face.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he teases, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

His sunglasses are perched on his head, revealing his crystalline eyes that seem to glow with delight.

“Did you raid my closet while I was gone?”

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool despite the sudden warmth creeping up your neck.

“Your place was cold. Figured I’d borrow something.”

Gojo doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he walks over to you, crouching in front of the couch as he eyes you up and down. His grin widens as he takes in the way the hoodie completely engulfs you, making you look even smaller than usual.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs, his voice lower now, laced with something playful but undeniably affectionate.

He reaches out, tugging on one of the oversized sleeves gently.

“In fact, I think it suits you better than it does me.”

You scoff, though your heart skips a beat at the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world.

“You think everything looks good on me.”

“That’s because it does.”

His grin is infuriatingly confident, but there’s a softness in his gaze that makes your breath catch.

“But you, wearing my clothes? I think that might be my favorite look.”

He leans closer, his nose brushing against your temple before pressing a soft kiss there.

“You can keep it if you want,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

“I don’t think I’m getting it back anyway.”

Megumi Fushiguro

It’s early morning, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting a soft glow over Megumi’s small apartment. He’s still asleep, his dark hair a mess of unruly strands as he breathes softly beside you. You’ve been staying with him for the weekend, a rare break from the chaos of jujutsu sorcery.

As you quietly slip out of bed, careful not to wake him, you feel the cool air hit your skin. Without thinking, you look around the room for something to cover yourself with. Your eyes land on one of Megumi’s plain black shirts, tossed haphazardly over the back of a chair. It’s oversized, much bigger than anything you’d typically wear, but you shrug and grab it anyway.

Slipping it over your head, the fabric is soft and familiar, carrying the faint scent of him. It hangs loosely on your frame, the sleeves too long and the hem falling halfway down your thighs. You glance at yourself in the mirror, a small smile tugging at your lips. There’s something comforting about wearing his clothes, like having a part of him with you even when he’s asleep.

As you turn back toward the bed, you freeze. Megumi’s awake. His dark eyes are half-lidded, still clouded with sleep as he watches you from the bed. You can’t quite read his expression -it’s a mixture of surprise, confusion, and something else you can’t place.

“You’re up early,” he mutters, his voice still thick with sleep.

You shrug, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

“Couldn’t sleep. I didn’t think you’d mind if I borrowed your shirt.”

Megumi blinks, his gaze drifting over you slowly. He doesn’t say anything right away, but you can see the way his eyes linger on the way the shirt swallows you, how it looks like you’re drowning in fabric. After a long moment, he finally speaks, his voice quieter than before.

“It looks good on you,” he finally speaks out, a little awkwardly, as if he’s not quite sure how to compliment you.

“Better than it does on me.”

You can’t help but laugh at how flustered he seems, even though he’s trying to play it cool.

“Really? I think it’s a little big.”

Megumi shakes his head, sitting up in bed and running a hand through his messy hair.

“No. It’s perfect.”

He pauses for a moment before adding, almost shyly,

“You should wear my stuff more often.”

His words catch you off guard, and you raise an eyebrow at him, surprised. Even though you know all too well that Megumi Fushiguro has a soft spot for you, you never really thought about stealing or borrowing his stuff. After all, he is the guy who slaps the back of Yuji’s head each and every day over stealing his sandwich or equipment. And now…he’s telling you straightforward that he wants you to wear his shirts?

“You want me to?”

He looks away, his usual stoic mask slipping just a bit as a faint blush creeps up his cheeks.

“I mean... yeah. It suits you.”

Your heart skips a beat at his admission. Megumi isn’t one for big, flowery declarations, but this, this small, almost hesitant compliment, is enough to make your chest warm. You walk over to him, climbing back into bed and curling up beside him like you always do after waking up.

“Well, if you insist,” you mutter teasingly, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“I might just steal more of your clothes.”

Megumi huffs, but there’s a softness in his eyes as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Go ahead,” he mumbles, tugging at the hem of his loose shirt.

“I don’t mind.”

Yuta Okkotsu

You’ve been staying at Yuta’s apartment for the past few days, crashing at his place while you’re both on a break from missions. It’s been nice: quiet, peaceful, just the two of you enjoying each other’s company without the usual chaos of jujutsu high looming over you.

It’s late in the evening now, and you’ve just gotten out of the shower, feeling refreshed after a long day. As you towel off your hair, you realize you forgot to grab something to wear. Your suitcase is still in the living room, and you don’t really feel like walking out there in just a towel.

Your groan in frustration over your usual absent-mindlessness, eyes landing on one of Yuta’s old sweatshirts, folded neatly on the chair by his desk. It’s a little worn, clearly well-loved, and the idea of wearing something of his brings a smile to your face. Yuta definitely wouldn’t mind you wearing one of his shirts, right? And even if he did…you’d love to see that little blush creep up his face.

Without thinking twice, you pull the sweatshirt over your head. It’s oversized, the sleeves long enough to cover your hands, and the fabric is soft and cozy against your skin.

You’re adjusting the sleeves when the door creaks open slightly. You look up just as Yuta steps into the room, his eyes widening in surprise when he sees you.

“Oh, hey-” he starts, but then he freezes, his gaze locking onto the sweatshirt you’re wearing.

His face flushes almost instantly, a deep red creeping up his cheeks as he stares at you.

“Uh… is that…?”, Yuta stammers, clearly flustered.

You glance down at the sweatshirt and smile sheepishly.

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind. I forgot to grab my clothes, and this looked comfortable.”

Yuta blinks, his face still bright red, but he quickly shakes his head.

“No! I mean, I don’t mind at all! It’s just… you look… um…”

He trails off, his eyes flicking away as if he’s too embarrassed to finish the sentence.

You giggle softly, stepping closer to him, to tease the hell out of him even more. That poor innocent boy who doesn’t even dare looking your direction when you stumble in the bathroom in the morning with noting but a shirt and panties on.

Even though you’ve been together for over a year by now.

“I look… what?”

Yuta clears his throat, still avoiding your gaze.

“You look… really cute,” he mutters, barely audible.

“In my sweatshirt, I mean.”

Your heart swells at his words, and you can’t help but smile as you reach out and take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Thanks, Yuta.”

He finally meets your gaze, his face still red but his expression softening as he squeezes your hand back.

“You can wear my clothes anytime you want,” he says quietly, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

You grin, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I might just take you up on that.”

Yuta chuckles, his arms wrapping around you in return as he pulls you close.

 “I wouldn’t mind,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Not at all.”

Nanami Kento

It’s late, and Nanami is still out on a mission. You’ve been waiting for him to come home, but the clock is ticking past midnight, and exhaustion is beginning to catch up with you. After all, you’ve had a long and exhausting day at work yourself.

You’re curled up on the couch, half-asleep, when the chill of the evening air prompts you to grab something warmer to wear.

Your own clothes are in the bedroom, and you don’t feel like moving that far. Instead, your eyes land on one of Nanami’s neatly folded dress shirts, sitting on the back of a chair. It’s probably not the warmest option, but the idea of wearing something of his feels comforting, like having a part of him with you while you wait for him to return.

You slip the shirt on, the crisp fabric soft against your skin. It’s too big, of course, the sleeves hanging past your wrists and the hem falling almost to your knees, but it’s cozy in its own way. You curl up on the couch again, pulling the sleeves over your hands and breathing in the faint scent of him that still lingers on the fabric.

You don’t realize you’ve dozed off until the sound of the front door opening stirs you awake. You sit up groggily, blinking as Nanami steps inside, looking tired but unharmed. He pauses when he sees you, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in the sight of you wearing his shirt.

For a moment, neither of you say anything. Then, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugs at the corner of Nanami’s lips.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he observes, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement.

You rub your eyes sleepily, nodding.

“It was cold, and I didn’t feel like getting up.”

Nanami walks over to you, his expression soft as he takes in the sight of you.

 “It suits you,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm.

“I didn’t expect to come home to this.”

You shrug, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

“If you don’t like it, I can-”

“I like it,” he cuts in, his tone firm but gentle.

He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before his hand lingers at your cheek.

“I like it very much.”

You smile, leaning into his touch as you look up at him.

“I might have to borrow your clothes more often, then.”

Nanami chuckles softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek before he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You’re welcome to them,” he breathes out.

“Though I have to admit, you make my clothes look much better than I do.”

You laugh softly, your heart warming at his rare display of affection.

“I doubt that.”

Nanami shakes his head, his eyes soft and filled with affection as he looks at you.

“It’s true. But regardless, you’re welcome to them anytime” he insists.

With that, he sits down beside you on the couch, pulling you into his side as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. You snuggle into him, the warmth of his body and the comfort of his shirt making you feel safe and content.

“Thank you, Kento,” you whisper, closing your eyes as exhaustion starts to pull you back into sleep.

Nanami presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his voice low and soothing as he murmurs,

“Anytime, love.”

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld

@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

@mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0

@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain 

@risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@sugu-love @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

@oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @kentocalls @cheesemachine44

@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa @cupcaketeddybehr @ryumurin

kiss me? jjk.

the one with gentle hands and endless kisses

genre : husband!jungkook, "i can do it myself"!reader, "i know, but let me do it for you"!jungkook

warnings : fluff, more fluff, brief smut, words of affirmation as love language, jungkook takes care of her, oc is so relatable i cried, jungkook being the best husband ever. let me know if i missed something.

a/n : hello besties, here's a little fluffy ☁️ gift for you since im obsessed with husband koo. tysm for loving my previous writings im beyond grateful. the fact that people out there are reading what i write is making me jump from happiness. enjoy and you're loved.

"There she is, my favorite girl" Jungkook's plasters a sloppy kiss on your cheek. His sweaty body connecting with your freshly showered one but you don't mind. Not when the first thing he says is that you're his favorite girl after his early morning gym session. The phrase never fails to make you turn red.

Last night Jungkook had briefly mentioned his wish to have chocolate covered strawberries because apparently, the ones you make are his absolute favorite. So here you were, making chocolate covered strawberries for him.

"I missed you" he lifts himself up on the hard counter and leans back on his palms. He attempts to dip his index finger into the melted chocolate but you swat his hand away.

"You were literally gone for two hours and get down the counter, Jungkook!!!! You're all sweaty" you warn him.

"But you like me sweaty" he gives you the same look he hits you with when you don't let him eat the last piece of pizza. Pouty and adorable.

"No doubt about it but I'll have to clean it again, honey." when the look doesn't leave his face you speak again.

"Okay if you get down now, I'll let you fuck me in the shower" you've barely even finished the remark before he hops off the counter and runs towards the bathroom.

"I HAVE THE BEST WIFE EVER" his voice trails off.

Knowing the fact that he'll not let you live it down if you don't live up to your words, you wipe your hands and join him in the shower. You let him eat you out under the cold water and then pound into you as you struggle to keep your knees from giving out.

The loud sneeze echoes through the room as you wipe your nose which now feels like the 50th time. Tiring.

When you came out of the shower you were perfectly fine. When your nose started stinging, you didn't think much of it then too. Before you knew it, you were sneezing three times in a row with a fever which only keeps getting worse.

Jungkook had immediately wrapped you up in a fluffy blanket and asked you to take a nap as he cooks some porridge for you. At the risk of sounding selfish, whenever you're sick you're tend to crave his closeness more and more. You hate it though, you know it puts him at the risk of sickness but you can't help it. He looks cozy and so so comfy, you just want to snuggle with him and doze off.

After all, he's your safe place, your own personal haven with a gorgeous smile and warm embrace and he's well aware of the fact that you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself when you're sick, perfectly capable of running yourself a bath when you want to, skilled enough to wear that piece of jewellery around your neck.

However, he'd still run a bath for you with rose petals and scented candles, still ask you to lift your hair up when he clicks the pendant close before placing a kiss at the nape of your neck, still cook for you when you're sick and kiss you goodnight before he takes you in his arms and falls into deep slumber, still whisper into the darkness that he wishes he could take away all your pain upon himself thinking you're fast asleep.

Just like now as he places the tray, the bowl of porridge on top of it alongside your medicines, a glass of water and gummy bears because he knows that you're not fond of the bitter aftertaste of the medicines.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he touches your clammy forehead before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Feeling any better, love?"

When you shake your head, his eyebrows crinkle in worry.

"I feel like throwing up but when I try nothing comes out" your lips open with a sigh.

His face gets remarkably worried. Not like he's wearing any other expression ever since you've started sniffing and stifling. You feel like shit. Earlier in the morning he's informed you about Namjoon's house warming party and was so excited to visit his best friend. Now he has to stay here and take care of your sick self when he should be with him, having the time of his life.

"I'm sorry you couldn't go to the party" your voice is brittle and you stop yourself from breaking down right there.

"Honey no, you're more important to me than any fucking party. Are you crazy? Besides, he would have poked my eyeballs out had I gone there and told him I left you here, sick and all by yourself."

The kiss that he places on your forehead is soft and tender causing you to close your eyes and bask in the love behind it.

"C'mon, get up and eat something. You'll feel so much better with your tummy full."

When you find it hard to get up all by yourself, you know it's more than just a cold now. You feel a headache coming.

Jungkook helps you sit up against the headboard as he picks up the bowl, taking a spoonful of porridge and holding it out for you to eat.

Your lips quiver and a sob threatens to break out, you hang your head low so he can't see the tears forming behind your droopy eyes but fail when your chest shakes with a sob.

Jungkook panics, quickly placing the bowl on the tray beside him, "Hey, what's going on? What's happening?"

You face him and open your arms, "Can you hold me for a while?" You're crying now. Tears stream down your face as your nose stings even more.

He wastes no time to take you in his arms, hands rubbing your back and then holding the back of your head as if he's cradling a baby. Holding you oh so gently like you might break and maybe you will. Maybe you will break because of how overwhelmed you are and how lousy you feel.

"It's alright, honey. Cry all you want, I'll hold you."

So you do, letting your head fall on his shoulder you cry out all the emotions you're feeling hoping you'd feel lighter by the time you're done. You're thankful for his silence. He understands, he always does and you understand him in return.

Your husband's hands don't stop moving for once. Constantly rubbing your back, running through your hair, gently massaging the back of your neck to release any tension. It's so funny how a tattooed hand like that which might look intimidating to strangers can be so soft and tender for you. For everyone in general, Jungkook is indeed the most gentle person you've ever known.

After what feels like eternity, you lift your head and break the hug. You lean back against the headboard as he speaks.

"Do you wanna tell me what caused that?" he asks in a careful voice.

You're still not in the space to talk so you shake your head and say, "Maybe later?"

"Whenever you feel like it, I'm here. But I wanna say something and I want you to listen carefully alright?" he waits for your nod before continuing,

"When we were about to get married, I had a chat with your father. He told me that you have a tendency to feel like a liability on people and you beat yourself up over somebody taking care of you, doing things for you, showing up for you because you'd rather do them by yourself. And then I promised him something. I promised him that I'll do anything, and I mean anything to not make you feel like that. I will manage to eat three bites less but I will never let you sleep with an empty stomach."

He kisses the back of your hands as you sniffle, scared that the tears might come back.

"So when I do things like this for you, skip my best friend's house warming party for you or doing anything for you for that matter, It's not because you're a burden. It's because you're mine and you'd do the same for me. I want to take care of you, honey. I like to. I love you the most _____, you're my everything and I can't fucking breathe when you're suffering like this."

Well fuck, the tears are back.

"Now, finish this and let me hold you to sleep" he helps you eat the porridge before you gulp down the medicines. The gummy bears follow.

With his help you lie back down on the bed as he saunters back to the kitchen, promising you to be back soon.

You're not surprised Jungkook knew the reason you broke down. You wouldn't expect any less from him and as always he has a way of making you feel loved and mattered with his words. Your husband is a gift and you want this particular gift in all your lifetimes, in every form.

He comes back with a bottle of water in his hand. He places it on the nightstand and joins you on the bed.

You stop him with a hand on his chest when he drops his head down to kiss you on the lips.

"You're gonna catch a cold" you warn.

"As if I care. Please baby, let me kiss you. You know I can't sleep without kissing you goodnight"

The chuckle that leaves you makes Jungkook's whole face light up.

"Only if you let me trace your tattoos"

"I promise" he says with the softest smile on his face.

Pouting your lips, you invite him for a kiss which he gladly places on your lip. His pillowy ones lingering for some seconds before pulling away. He kisses your cheeks next, your temples, your nose, your jaw and then finally, both of your eyes which were now damp from all the crying. Although, that didn't seem to bother him.

"I love kissing you"

When he plops back down on the bed, he pulls your entire body on top of his with your head tucked into the crook of his neck. He feels so warm and cozy, you never want to let go. He would be fine with that too.

"Honey?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you so fucking much. Let's make a baby when you get better"

"I love you too, husband. I wouldn't mind having a little one like you"

Bts ot7 x reader

CEO

Series

The butterseries COMPLETE

Combined beings COMPLETE

Choco bun COMPLETE

Office CEO Au ONGOING

Chantaje ONGOING

Petrichor ONGOING

MAFIA

Series

Combined beings COMPLETE

Between the bloodshed COMPLETE

Everything between us COMPLETE

Ethereal COMPLETE

Choco bun COMPLETE

War of the hearts ONGOING

Cry me a river ONGOING

Oneshot

Mafia Au

Your protectors

IDOL

Series

Quarantine COMPLETE

8th member imagines!

Life with bangtan

Little do you know

The plot twist (soulmate) ONGOING

Change my mind ONGOING

The line between love and war (soulmate) ONGOING

Oneshot

The little things

Hold your promise

Being BTS's baby

Eighth member of BTS

Nothing new

Hurt/Sick

Clumsy/We need bubblewrap

What words can't say

Birthdays & Boyfriends

Shell

HYBRID

Series

Hybrid house COMPLETE

To build a home COMPLETE

Escape COMPLETE

The little fox COMPLETE

Whirlwind COMPLETE

A place called home COMPLETE

Roses and thorns COMPLETE

Shelter of hope COMPLETE

Hybrid heart attack COMPLETE

Shadows and wolfbane COMPLETE

Oasis COMPLETE

Something thicker than blood COMPLETE

Outside of the fox ONGOING

Loved by seven ONGOING

Strawberry princess ONGOING

Masked miracles ONGOING

Trouvaille ONGOING

Safe and sound ONGOING

Black mamba ONGOING

Oneshot

Tangled hearts

Mean kitty, soft kitty

COLLEGE

Series

Everything falls into place COMPLETE

Thesis IT COMPLETE

Prove IT COMPLETE

OMEGAVERSE

Series

House of the omegaverse COMPLETE

Belong ONGOING

Find rest for your soul ONGOING

Petrichor ONGOING

Dragon

Iridescent love ONGOING

Series

Ethereal COMPLETE

Choco bun COMPLETE

Dragonheart ONGOING

Fantasy

Series

The galaxy above us COMPLETE

Stay alive ONGOING

Euphoric endeavors ONGOING

Magic shop ONGOING

Royal

Series

The return of an empress COMPLETE

Royal/Bodyguard COMPLETE

Fall of empire ONGOING

Oneshot

Soulmate/royalty

Others

Series

Boyfriend for hire COMPLETE

Getting back into the swing of things COMPLETE

Out of love ONGOING

Shadows we trust ONGOING

Oneshot

Pastel snowflake kisses

Thank my lucky stars

cold hands warm heart

Sanemi Shinazugawa x Fem!Reader

MINORS BEWARE!

Word count: 8502

Category: Enemies to lovers, slow burn romance, angst and fluff.

Warnings: Manga spoilers (if you squint), mention of gore and blood, injury, violence, heavy swearing, slight sexual content and kissing.

Presented in the tranquil stone garden of the Demon Slayers headquarters were nine noble warriors, each with astonishing power and unwavering resolve. Masters of their own unique breathing techniques, they represented the pinnacle of the Demon Slayer Corps. Adorned with various strengths, each Hashira was devoted to safeguarding humanity from the terrors of Demons and pledging never to allow harm to befall the Ubuyashiki clan.

As Ubuyashiki stood on the engawa, the Hashira hung their heads low in respect. Their muscles tensed as they felt the powerful presence of another.

Suddenly, the gates to the Demon Slayer headquarters creaked open, and a gust of wind stirred up the silence. Two Kakushi scurried in, bowing low as their eyes fell upon the nine pillars and Ubuyashiki. They addressed him, "Ubuyashiki-sama, she's here," before swiftly leaving.

The Hashira’s sat in stunned silence; their eyes widened in surprise as they beheld the figure before them. Your presence was palpable, your power radiating from every pore of your being, sending shivers down their spines. As you drew closer, they could see the determination burning in your eyes, and the confidence with which you moved was almost otherworldly. Your footsteps were so quiet that you seemed to blend into the air around you, as if you were a being of pure elegance. When you finally reached Ubuyashiki, you bowed with such grace that even the stone garden seemed to hold its breath in reverence.

Ubuyashiki's gentle voice reverberated through the garden as he greeted you, "How wonderful it is to have you among us." His kind eyes scanned the gathered Hashiras before he continued, "Allow me to introduce our newest member," the weight of their collective gaze fell upon you. You stood tall and met their stares with unwavering confidence, “The Night Hashira,” he continued.

“I am deeply grateful for this honour, Oyakata-sama, and to stand among the esteemed Hashiras." As the words left your lips, a sudden surge of power erupted from within you, causing even the stoic Tomioka to choke in response. The air around you seemed to hum with electricity as the other Hashiras eyes widened in awe. Tengen let out a low whistle of admiration. "Well, well, well," he said, his trademark smirk appearing on his lips, "I think we're in for a real treat with this one."

“Please, make her feel welcomed,” as Ubuyashiki's words reached your ears, you couldn't help but feel grateful for his kind gesture. A soft smile graced your lips as you bowed your head in acknowledgement, hiding the emotions that threatened to spill over. "Thank you, Oyakata-sama," you whispered, hoping he could hear the sincerity in your voice. With that, Ubuyashiki left the engawa, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips, leaving you alone with the Hashiras.

You knew that earning their approval would not be an easy task, but you were determined to prove yourself worthy of your new title.

"Hello- Hi! I'm Mitsuri Kanroji," exclaimed the young woman with thick, greenish-pink locks, her voice filled with enthusiasm. She flashed you a bright smile. Beside her stood a short boy, half of his face obscured by bandages, with striking heterochromatic eyes. "And this is Obanai Iguro," she introduced her companion, who offered a polite nod in your direction.

“Shinobu Kocho,” said a young woman with hair in shades of purple.

“Ah, hello. It’s an honour to be introduced to all of you,” you said with a bow. “I apologize for my abrupt entrance,” you added.

Kanroji beamed with a warm smile, “Oh, no need to apologize, we’re happy to have you here! It's great to see another woman among the ranks. We'll finally have someone who can help keep these boys in line," she teased, winking playfully.

Kocho chuckled softly, "Yes, indeed. There's too much testosterone in this group. A little bit of feminine charm might do them some good," she added with a sly smile.

"This is ridiculous," a voice interrupted from behind you, causing Kocho’s face to turn sour.

You turned around to see a man with scars littering his body. Despite his rough exterior, you found his scars strangely attractive, a testament to the battles he must have fought. However, his attitude was far from attractive.

"You, a Hashira? We ain't ever seen you fight or train," he sneered, his eyes scanning you up and down with a smirk. "Who said ya got the capabilities? I've seen enough to know you're just a weakling who got lucky."

“Shinazugawa-san," the tallest one warned sharply. The girlish-looking boy spoke up, "He does have a point. If she proves herself, she might be worthy of our approval."

"You're entitled to your opinion," you replied calmly, your voice echoing through the garden as you met Shinazugawa’s piercing gaze. "But let me tell you, I didn't get here by sitting idly. I have faced countless demons and emerged victorious from each encounter. So, I assure you that I'm more than capable of holding my own in battle."

Your words hung in the air, and for a moment, he started prowling towards you, his steps slow and calculating, as if he was sizing up his prey.

As Shinazugawa drew closer, you couldn't help but notice the scent of sandalwood and lavender emanating from him, a combination that was both soothing and intense. It was a stark contrast to the scars that criss-crossed his muscular body.

Finally, he stopped a healthy distance in front of you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of weakness. You held his gaze, unflinching, until he finally spoke. "You talk big shit, but it’s all cheap," his teeth were gritted. "Actions speak louder than words, so show me what you can do, bitch," he spat venomously.

“Oi, Shinazugawa-san that’s enough-“

Your hand instinctively reached for the hilt of your Nichirin sword, a weapon crafted uniquely for yourself to better face the demons you were born to fight. Today, it was to confront Shinazugawa and his shit attitude.

“Stop them-“

As you drew your sword, you could feel Shinazugawa’s eyes on you, his body tensing in preparation for battle.

“I want to watch them though.”

The metal rang out as it left its scabbard, filling the air with a sharp, piercing sound.

“Tokito-kun, don’t say that.”

Without hesitation, Shinazugawa also reached for his own sword, a fierce determination etched onto his face.

“Himejima-san, please stop them.”

You knew then that this was it - a clash between two Hashiras, each one determined to prove themselves the stronger.

“Sto-“

With lightning speed, you charged towards Shinazugawa, your sword raised high above your head. His eyes widened in surprise as he barely managed to dodge your attack, but you were one step ahead. As he turned to face you, you disappeared from sight, only to reappear behind him in a flash of movement. Without giving him a chance to react, you swept his feet and tackled him to the ground, pinning his neck with the hilt of your sword, legs constraining his arms while you positioned yourself to straddle him.

Shinazugawa thrashed beneath you, his muscles straining against your hold, but you refused to let go. Your heart raced with adrenaline as you felt his hot breath on your face, but you held fast, determined to prove your worth.

“You know,” you leaned closer to Shinazugawa’s ear, your hair brushing against his cheek. “If you wanted to ask me out, there are better ways to do it than trying to kill me,” you whispered in his ear, low and dangerous.

He jerked his head forward in an attempt to brutally headbutt you, but you swiftly dodged, disappearing from on top of him in a split second, with your sword returning to its scabbard. Shinazugawa’s eyes were now glowing red, his appearance the embodiment of pure rage. "You fucking wish," he spat, the saliva landing beside you as he struggled to regain his footing.

“No, I do not,” you said firmly, your gaze fixed on Shinazugawa’s enraged expression. Turning on your heel, you walked towards the gates, leaving the gathered Hashira behind you.

“Well deserved!” exclaimed Rengoku, clapping his hands together in admiration. Shinazugawa growled in response, his eyes still glowing with fury. "Shut the fuck up, I went easy on her," he retorted as he stood up, dusting off the dirt and pebbles from his uniform and skin.

A week later, the Swordsmith Village.

“Seeing Shinazugawa-san that angry was truly painful for me,” Kanroji sighed, her expression pensive. “You must have really struck a nerve with him. No one has ever started a fight with him on first meeting.”

You sunk deeper into the hot spring, relishing the warmth as you tried to shake off the encounter with Shinazugawa.

Kanroji’s voice interrupted your thoughts, drawing your attention. "I haven't seen him since then, no one has," she said, her tone filled with concern. "I wonder if he's okay."

You lifted your head slightly, watching as Kanroji rested her elbows on a nearby rock and buried her face in her hands.

As you soaked in the hot spring, the sound of footsteps echoed from the staircase. Looking up, you saw a female Kakushi approaching.

"Kanroji-san, your blade has been restored," she said, bowing respectfully.

“Oh, how lovely! I'll be down there shortly,” Kanroji replied with a bright smile. Then she turned to you, her expression still joyful. “I hope to see you at dinner too! We're going to have such a feast, I can't wait! Just thinking about all the food makes me so happy!” As she spoke, she started to wrap herself in her kimono.

“Yes, I’ll join you. Please, go ahead,” you said kindly, as you began to submerge yourself into the hot spring, blocking out any noise that tried to penetrate your senses. You couldn't help but overhear muffled voices from above the water's surface. You recognized Kanroji’s voice, she sounded shocked, but there was a deeper tone that made your heart race.

No.

Oh god no.

You immediately popped your head up, scanning the area to see if anyone was approaching. Surely, Kanroji would have warned any potential visitors that a woman was currently bathing in the hot spring. But it appeared that she had not, typical love Hashira.

It had been a week since the incident with Shinazugawa, and there he was, standing before you. He looked just as striking as before with his artwork of scars and chiselled muscles.

You were gawking at him.

But you quickly regained your composure, realizing that you were both staring at each other in complete silence. His expression was one of shock, and you felt a rush of embarrassment wash over you.

You could practically hear Kanroji’s playful laugher. She’s going to get an earful at dinner.

He mumbled an apology, and you sat there dumbfounded. “What?” you blurted out confused.

"Like... walking in on ya takin' a bath," he replied, his words a little muddled.

As you looked at Shinazugawa, you couldn't believe that this was the same person who had tried to put up a fight with you. Just as you were about to stand up from the hot spring, the realization that you were completely naked hit you, and you quickly sat your backside down again, not wanting to expose yourself in front of him.

"Do you mind-" you began to say, but trailed off as you noticed Shinazugawa staring at you.

"Huh?" he replied, seeming to have missed your question.

"Just turn around for a bit," you said, feeling your face grow hot.

"Oh- oh yeah. Yeah, my bad," he said, quickly turning around.

"Shit," you muttered to yourself. “Sorry, could you pass that?" you asked.

"Pass what?" he asked, confused.

"My kimono, it's right beside you," you said, feeling a bit annoyed.

"What? Oh, yeah," he said, tossing your kimono backwards to avoid catching a glimpse of your naked body.

You quickly wrapped yourself in the kimono, skipping the process of drying yourself just to get out of the awkward situation. Your hair stuck to your face and the thin material of the kimono felt like a damp towel that made you shiver as your skin's moisture clung onto it.

You were freezing and Shinazugawa took notice.

As you made to pass him, Shinazugawa extended his arm to stop you, and you gave him a puzzled look. He then removed his haori and offered it to you. "You're freezing your tits off, take it," he said with a gruff voice.

You hesitated for a moment, looking up at him to find him looking anywhere but you. You felt a bit embarrassed about accepting his gesture, but the cold was too much to bear, right? So, you gratefully took the haori and wrapped it around your shivering body. The fabric was warm and devastatingly smelt of him.

He mumbled something under his breath, but you couldn't quite make it out.

“What?" you asked, looking up at him, hoping he would repeat himself.

He snapped back, "Said, get outta here."

You stared at him for a few seconds, taken aback by his sudden hostility. As you descended the stairs, you couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy about the whole situation.

You turned back to look at Shinazugawa. He was still standing there, like a statue, and you couldn't help but notice that the tips of his ears were tinted red.

As you entered the room, Kanroji greeted you with excitement, exclaiming, "I knew it would work! Your best friends now!" You were still processing the encounter with Shinazugawa, but the aroma of the dishes brought you back to reality.

You noticed the variety of dishes laid out on the table, and your stomach grumbled in anticipation. "Let's eat, Kanroji-san," you sat down at the table, still lost in thought, but the food managed to distract you.

As you ate, Kanroji chattered on about different topics, her bubbly personality keeping you company even when your thoughts trailed away. You found yourself gradually relaxing, enjoying the meal and her company.

"Damn it," he muttered to himself, as he sat in the hot spring with his head tilted back, staring up at the night sky. Everything seemed to remind him of her, and it only served to further infuriate him. "She's so fuckin’ annoying," he grumbled, his frustration growing with every passing second. "Why the hell did I give her that?" He shifted his gaze to the stairs where he had last seen her, his jaw clenched tightly.

His Kasugai crow landed beside him, and Shinazuagwa peered at him, tracing his index finger over the soft feathers of his head.

“We’re going on that mission,” he spoke to his Kasugai crow, which perched on a nearby rock. Its beady eyes peered back at him, as if acknowledging his words. “Twelve moon, right?” Shinazugawa continued, his expression showing a hint of excitement. “Gon’ be a piece of cake,” He smirked.

Shinazugawa ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled deeply. “Need to get outta here anyways,” he muttered, gazing out at the surrounding landscape.

You approached the Flame Hashira with a respectful bow as he trained. "Rengoku-san," you said, catching his attention. He turned towards you with a smile and asked, "Oh! What brings you here?"

“Ah, well,” you said sheepishly. "I was hoping you could help me. I'm looking for Shinazugawa-san. Do you happen to know where he resides or where I could find him?" You paused for a moment, feeling a little nervous.

Rengoku expression softened as he noticed your nervousness. "Of course, I know where he lives. Would you like me to escort you?"

You nodded, grateful for the offer. Rengoku stood up from his seat and gestured for you to follow him. As you walked together, he asked, "Is everything alright? You seem a bit uneasy."

You hesitated for a moment before answering, "I just need to return something."

"No, Shinazugawa-sama is not here," the female servant informed you with a polite bow.

You pressed on, "Do you happen to know where he is?"

"He's on a mission," she replied.

You grew impatient and asked, "What type of mission?"

"It's something in relation to the Twelve Moon," she responded calmly.

You could feel Rengoku stiffen at the mention of the Twelve Moon. "Twelve Moon?!" you exclaimed.

The servant nodded, "Yes, he's perfectly capable."

"Shit," you whispered under your breath. "When will he return?" you asked the female servant, feeling a sense of urgency.

"It could possibly be less or more than a month," she replied in a respectful tone.

Your jaw dropped in disbelief. A month was longer than you had hoped.

"Why don't you give it to her instead?" Rengoku interjected, noticing your disappointment.

You shook your head, "It's okay, I'll return it to Shinazugawa-san myself," you replied with a small smile, determined to wait for his return.

Rengoku stared at you, his eyes widening for some unknown reason. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, both of your Kasugai crows swooped in, relaying the same message.

You both ran with fervour, your hearts pounding with urgency as you raced towards your destination.

Upper Moon 2 and 3 attacking a village to the west

Shinazugawa was there, alone with those demons. The thought of him facing those powerful beings by himself sent chills down your spine, and you pushed yourself to go faster.

As you approached the village, the scene before you was nothing short of chaos. Smoke billowed up into the sky, blackening the once peaceful atmosphere of the village. The sound of screams and cries of panic filled your ears, a clear indication of the destruction that had taken place.

As you ran through the streets, you saw houses that were once sturdy and intact, now reduced to rubble and debris. The lifeless bodies of citizens lay scattered among the ruins, their blood seeping into the ground beneath them. Some of the survivors were running frantically, trying to escape the horror that had befallen them.

Amidst the chaos, you suddenly caught a whiff of sandalwood and lavender, a scent that you recognized all too well. Without a moment's hesitation, you drew your sword from its scabbard, ready for whatever lay ahead.

"Rengoku-san, follow me," you ordered, as you began to sprint towards the source of the scent.

"It's not just Upper 2 and 3," you informed Rengoku, your eyes scanning the area. Weak demons were scattered all around, causing chaos and destruction. Suddenly, one demon leaped towards you, and Rengoku yelled out a warning.

With one swift stroke of your sword, you effortlessly decapitated the demon and continued towards your destination.

“Rengoku-san,” you said firmly. “Please take care of the civilians. I'll handle the upper moons on my own.”

Rengoku opened his mouth to protest, but you interrupted him, throwing him a reassuring smile over your shoulder. "I'll be fine," you said, your tone calm.

After a moment of hesitation, Rengoku nodded reluctantly, “Be careful.”

He circled back towards the heart of the village where the citizens were gathered, offering them his full support. Meanwhile, you were making your way towards Shinazugawa, but as you got closer, you felt a sudden drop in temperature, the air growing icy cold.

The ground beneath your feet was no longer dirt, but instead, it was now coated with ice.

Doma.

You sprinted towards the scene of the battle, your heart pounding against your chest as you saw Shinazugawa fighting fiercely against the upper ranks. He was holding his on, his sword gleaming in the dim moonlight as he expertly dodged and parried their attacks.

But as you drew closer, you could see that his movements were becoming more sluggish, and sweat was beading on his forehead. He was clearly tiring, and the demons were taking advantage of it. Doma casted ice into small particles, filling the air with a freezing chill.

Your mind raced as you realized the danger Shinazugawa was in. If he breathed in that ice, his lungs would collapse, he’d be unable to fight any longer. You opened your mouth to shout a warning, but before you could make a sound, Shinazugawa unleashed his seventh form.

In an instant, the air was filled with a gust of wind as Shinazugawa’s technique cast away the ice particles, scattering them in all directions. The force of the attack sent the demons staggering backward, giving Shinazugawa a momentary respite.

“Fifth form, Shooting Stars.” With lightning-fast movements, you darted through the field, attacking the two demons from every angle.

Your swordsmanship was unparalleled as you gracefully weaved through the air, moving with a fluidity that seemed almost otherworldly. The two demons were caught off guard as you darted around them, striking with a speed that left them reeling. Your strikes were precise, aimed directly at their weak points, and you took advantage of every opening with a calm and calculated efficiency.

"Doma, you little shit," you growled. Your eyes narrowed as you saw him chanting. You braced yourself for the worst as an enormous Bodhisattva statue surrounded by lotuses made of ice spawned from the surface you were standing on. You tried to dodge, but the ice vines sprouting from the lotuses entangled you, snaring all over your body and dragging you towards the statue, towards Doma.

You struggled to break free, feeling the vines tightening around your limbs and cutting into your flesh. You knew that if you didn't act fast, your bones would break under the pressure.

"Little Night Hashira, we meet again!" he exclaimed with a smile, completely oblivious to the fact that you were only seconds away from delivering the final blow. "You are still as gorgeous as ever, and you smell heavenly too," he added, his tone suggestive.

You had only crossed paths a handful of times in missions, yet he acted as if you were old friends.

Your grip tightened around the hilt of your sword, your eyes narrowing as you glared at him. His smug expression only served to infuriate you further, the veins tightened even more.

"You’re mistaken if you think I have any interest in your flattery, Doma," you spat blood. "I’m here to end your pitiful existence.”

Doma's expression faltered for a moment, but then he chuckled. "Oh, my dear, you’re always so fierce. That's what makes you so irresistible."

But before you could retort, your attention was diverted to Shinazugawa’s whereabouts. You scanned the area, but he was nowhere to be found. Panic set in as you realized he could be in danger.

You darted your eyes around, searching frantically for any sign of him.

"Looking for someone, Little Night Hashira?" he asked with a sinister tone, grinning. "Hm... Your little Wind Hashira, perhaps?" He giggled, clearly knowing something you didn't. "He's an amazing fighter, you know. Akaza wants to turn him. He'd be an amazing Upper Moon." His voice was taunting.

A searing pain erupted in your side, causing you to gasp for air. You looked down to see a deep gash across your abdomen, blood flowing freely from the wound. You gazed back at Doma, his fan covering his mouth as he hid his smug smile.

You tried to speak, but blood gurgled out of your mouth, choking you. “Where-“ you managed to gasp, desperately trying to finish your question.

“Where what?” he taunted, pretending not to understand.

“Is he…” you wheezed, barely able to speak as the pain in your chest intensified.

“Look over there, pretty girl,” Doma said, pointing with his fan. You turned your head to see Shinazugawa locked in a fierce battle with Akaza. Your heart sank at the sight of him fighting alone against such a powerful opponent.

Your attention was quickly brought back to your own predicament as the ice vines continued to tighten their grip around your body. The coldness was seeping into your bones and you could feel your strength waning. You gritted your teeth and tried to break free, but it was no use.

"Once Akaza gets his final blow in," Doma leaned in, bringing you close enough to see the spectrum of colours in his eyes. "We will turn him into a demon. If he refuses, well..." His smile faded, “We’ll tear every single limb of his off.”

You reached your breaking point, your mind became clouded. “Thirteenth form, Nightmare.”

Suddenly, the world around you transformed into a dark and ominous realm. The air was thick with the scent of fear, and the sound of screams and cries echoed all around you. Doma was now trapped in a terrifying nightmare of his own making.

The vines that had been tightly wrapped around you suddenly loosened, and the statue that Doma had created melted away at an intense speed. You plummeted towards the ground, hitting the hard surface with a deafening thud. You let out a silent cry. The impact should have caused numerous broken bones, but you refused to succumb to the pain.

As you surveyed your surroundings, you noticed that the shadow of Doma was writhing in agony, his face contorted with terror. He clawed at the air and his own face in a desperate attempt to escape his own nightmare. You took advantage of the opportunity and prepared yourself for the final blow, concentrating all your power into your stance as you chanted, "First form, Meteor."

"AKAZA!" Doma screeched, just as you were about to land the final blow on his neck, slicing through the skin. You could sense Akaza's presence from your peripheral vision as he swiftly moved towards Doma and took him into his arms. The force of your sword met nothing but air, and the ground where Doma should have been standing erupted into a deep crater from the sheer power of your attack.

You let out a string of curses, the words echoing through the empty air. Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm yourself down, but the pain you were in made it even difficult as bones were constricting your lungs. However, you refused to let it stop you from finding Shinazugawa.

You spotted Shinazugawa just a few meters away, his gaze fixed on you. He stood there, motionless, much like he did back at the hot springs. As you turned your attention towards him, you noticed Rengoku approaching you from behind.

You let out a raspy breath before collapsing to the ground, causing Rengoku to rush towards you, leaving Shinazugawa behind. As you struggled to catch your breath, Shinazugawa’s voice cut through the air.

"You lost him," he stated flatly.

Confused you replied, "What?"

Shinazugawa’s eyes widened as he continued, "You're so fucking useless. Why are you even here?"

Rengoku interrupted, his anger palpable as he yelled, "Shinazugawa! Can you not do this right now?"

Shinazugawa ignored him, spitting out his words with contempt, "You are so fucking useless, you should have died."

You stared at him, taken aback by his harsh words.

Your breathing became shallow, and your heart felt like it had dropped to your stomach. The weight of Shinazugawa’s words felt heavy, crushing down on any sense of self-worth you had left. You tried to hold back tears, but you could feel them welling up in your eyes. The pain was almost unbearable, and all you wanted to do was curl up into a ball and disappear.

“Why?" you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Quit the fucking corps," he said, his tone cold.

“Shinazugawa,” Rengoku removed his haori and quickly wrapped it around your bleeding torso. “She did more than you could have,” he said, his voice laced with a mix of anger and frustration directed at Shinazugawa. He held you close, trying to ease your pain as you groaned in agony. The wounds were deep and you could feel the blood trickling down your skin. Despite Rengoku’s efforts, the pain was still overwhelming, making it hard for you to focus on anything else.

You saw black.

“Is she in a stable condition?” Ubuyashiki inquired with a deep concern etched in his voice.

“Yes, Oyakata-sama. The Kakushi just arrived in time to prevent further blood loss,” Rengoku replied.

“I’m glad. She fought valiantly, didn't she?” he remarked, with a tone that suggested it was not a question. Ubuyashiki was well aware of your formidable strength, which could rival even Himejima, if not, surpass him. However, even such strength had its limits, and you were not invincible.

Shinazugawa sat in silence during the meeting, his eyes fixed on a spot on the floor without even a single blink. Ubyashiki addressed him, "Shinazugawa?"

Shinazugawa jolted out of his trance, "Oyakata-sama."

Ubyashiki asked, "What did you tell her?”

Shinazugawa hesitated, swallowing hard and opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. Eventually, he managed to say, "I told her she was useless."

Rengoku interjected, "Please continue, Shinazugawa-san."

Shinazugawa glared at Rengoku and continued, "And that she should have died."

Ubuyashiki turned to Rengoku and said, "You may leave now, Rengoku."

Rengoku looked at both Ubuyashiki and Shinazugawa, and replied, "As you wish, Oyakata-sama."

Once Rengoku was out of earshot, Ubuyashiki confronted Shinazugawa, "Why do you express your concern through hostility, Shinazugawa?"

"I don't understand, Oyakata-sama," he responded.

"You care for her, do you not?" Ubuyashiki questioned. "She's finally opening up to the other Hashiras, enjoying their company, and communicating more. Yet you try to push her back into the hole she has been desperately trying to climb out of. Do you not see the emptiness in her eyes? She looks so hollow, and you only seem to make her feel more disconnected from this world."

"She's not my responsibility. She made her own decision to get involved."

"You are a Hashira, Shinazugawa. You have a responsibility to your fellow demon slayers, especially one who risked her life to help you."

Shinazugawa’s jaw tightened. "I didn't ask for her help."

"But you needed it," Ubuyashiki countered. "And now she needs yours."

Shinazugawa opened his mouth to argue, but Ubuyashiki interrupted him. "I understand that you are not used to showing kindness, but that does not excuse cruelty. She deserves respect, and so do you. Please think about that, Sanemi."

The use of his first name caught him off guard, and he stared directly into Ubuyashiki's eyes, unsure of what to say.

“You may go, Shinazugawa,” Ubuyashiki said with a hint of sadness in his smile.

Time passed in a blur as days and nights blended together, but fragments of memories kept you grounded in reality.

You struggled to open your eyes through the hardened mucus that clung to them.

You heard the clatter of a plate hitting the ground, causing you to turn your head in the direction of the noise. Your eyes fell upon Kocho, who was standing by the door.

“Two months,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion as tears welled up in her eyes. Her vulnerability caught you off guard. “You were unconscious for two whole months, and I was losing hope that you’d ever wake up.” She slowly made her way towards you, kneeling beside the bed where you lay recovering.

“Every damn day there was an ohagi on your table that I had to clean up,” she said with a hint of annoyance. You gave her a quizzical look, wondering what ohagi had to do with anything.

“I'm sorry,” you said, even though you weren't entirely sure what you were apologizing for.

You remembered then, “Shinazugawa-san and Rengoku-san?” Kocho handed you a glass of water, which you eagerly gulped down, relieving your dry throat. As you drank, Kocho continued to speak.

"Shinazugawa-san deserves a beating," she said with a hint of anger in her voice. "I offered to create new scars for him, but Himejima-san told me not to." Despite her words, she gave you a sweet smile, a contradiction to her previous statement.

“I was scared,” she admitted. "You were in such a bad condition," she added.

“I'm fine now, Kocho-san,” you replied with a reassuring smile.

“You certainly are. We made sure to take care of you every single day," she said, before adding, “Oykata-sama would visit every day too. We often caught him doing so.”

“He didn't have to,” you said, shocked by the revelation. Kocho smiled softly. “He cares for you deeply, just as he does for all of us. After all, he sees us as his family-”

“You're awake!” Kanroji bursted into the room. “How are you feeling?” She was bouncing with energy. “Meals without you just weren't the same.”

“Kanroji-san, thank you for the ohagi,” you bowed your head. “What ohagi?” She asked with a smile.

You stared at her, “The one on my table every night, according to Kocho-san?”

“I never brought any ohagi. But if I had seen it, I definitely would have eaten it all!” She retorted with a playful grin.

As you stared out of the window, the gentle breeze rustled the curtains, and you breathed in the fresh air. Suddenly, your stomach grumbled and you found yourself craving some ohagi. "I could really go for some ohagi right about now," you murmured to yourself.

As night settled in, you took your first few steps after being stationary for two solid months. You had lost a considerable amount of muscle and weight during your recovery, but Kocho assured you that your training would come back to you in a few days.

You padded softly towards the window, staring into the gardens of the Butterfly estate. The night sky always had a calming effect on you, especially when the moon is full. The beauty of the moonlight shining onto your face made you close your eyes and bask in its presence.

You felt a subtle shift in the air as the door silently opened, a clear sign of someone skilled in stealth. Without hesitation, you turned your head towards the door.

White hair and a scarred body. In his hand, he held a box wrapped in furoshiki cloth. As he walked in, his gaze immediately went to the bed where you had been comatose.

Not finding you there, a flash of panic was evident in his eyes as he began to scan the room. Finally, he noticed you standing there, looking at him with a stunned expression.

“Shinazugawa-san?” You said softly.

He dropped the box in surprise and walked slowly towards you. His scarred face was twisted in a mixture of surprise and guilt. He reached his hand out, but you flinched, taking a step back.

That immediately stopped him in his tracks. He let out a bitter laugh and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m so fucken stupid,” he muttered, his voice laced with self-disgust.

“Yeah,” you choked out, your voice cracking as tears welled up in your eyes. You couldn't bear to look at him, so you turned your back towards him, staring blankly out the window.

"Please look at me," he whispered, his voice barely audible. You couldn't bring yourself to do it, your gaze still fixed on the window. He said your name, your first name, in the most tender voice you had ever heard.

“Please.”

The moonlight cast a soft glow around you as you turned to face him, illuminating your figure. Tears continued to flow uncontrollably down your face as you gazed at him, and the sight of him only seemed to intensify your emotions.

His body was taut, restraining himself from taking a step towards you and enveloping you in his arms. He respected the invisible boundary you had created. His eyes softened when he looked into yours, a stark contrast to his usual gaze that made your stomach churn. His moods were so volatile, but in this moment, it seemed as if he was trying to convey something deeper, something vulnerable.

He was clenching and unclenching his hand, his eyes pleading with you as he whispered, "I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." The raw emotion in his voice made your heart ache.

“I should have never said any of that, I’m so sorry.”

"I just-“ he paused, his voice cracking. He rubbed his face vigorously before continuing, "I don't know. I don't even know you," he let out a sad, bitter laugh. "What the fuck am I doing?"

“You're not useless," he said softly, his voice filled with remorse. He repeated the phrase again, as if trying to erase the hurt caused by his previous words. "You shouldn't die either, fuck, why did I ever say that," he muttered, his eyes full of remorse.

You stared at him, not knowing how to respond. He looked away, his gaze fixed on the ground. "I don’t want you to die. I said those things," a tear fell down his cheek. "I said it because I didn't want you near any of this shit."

“You’re so fucking strong, I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “But I still worried. You almost fucking died, holy shit.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “You hit that ground, fractured a shit ton of bones, and yet you still moved. I was so fucking scared, I just wanted you to stop but you didn’t. You kept on going and I couldn’t bear to watch it go down.”

You took a soft step toward him. “You almost had him,” he continued, tears streaming down his face. “But when that other demon left me, I thought he was going to finish you off. You had no idea how fucking scared I was.”

"Two months, I came here every single day," he choked out, "and you never stirred. I was terrified," he whispered your name.

"I didn't want to lose-" he was cut off by the gentle touch of your hand on his scarred face. He snapped his head towards you, eyes widening in shock.

“But you did,” you said gently, your voice breaking as tears continued to flow down your face. “The moment you said those words to me.” Your words hung heavy in the air as you both cried, the pain palpable.

Your hands were trembling as you wiped away his tears. Shinazugawa took hold of your hands and brought them to his lips "I won't ever say that shit again," he promised. He pressed a soft kiss onto your hands. "If I ever say anything like that again, these beautiful hands of yours can land the final blow on me."

“Shinazugawa-san,” you said. Shinazugawa gently released your hands and brought his own to your face, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. His hands were so large, almost enveloping your entire face, and they were warm and comforting. You couldn't help but nuzzle into them, savouring the feeling of safety and reassurance that came with his touch. It had been a long time since you had felt this kind of comfort.

"Sanemi," he said, and you looked up at him, questioning.

"Please, call me Sanemi," he added with a gentle smile.

"Sanemi," you said softly.

He averted his gaze, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink under the moonlight.

As you gazed at him, the world suddenly tilted and you felt yourself losing balance. Your legs gave out and you began to fall, but Sanemi's quick reflexes allowed him to catch you before you hit the ground.

"Careful," he said, holding you tighter as you were bundled in his arms. His strong arms enveloped you, making your heart race. You couldn't help but blush at the sudden situation, grateful that your hair was hiding most of your face.

Sanemi remained in the position that he caught you in, not moving a muscle. As you rested in his embrace, you found yourself entranced by his familiar scent once again, feeling yourself becoming drowsy.

"Sanemi..." you murmured, your eyes drooping.

Sanemi stiffened at the sound of his name, realizing that you were about to pass out. He looked at you in panic as your eyes shut. "Hey, stay with me," he called out, but you didn't budge. With a swift motion, he lifted you up and carried you to the bed, surprised at how light you were in his arms.

Sanemi skidded to a stop, almost colliding with Kocho. "What are you doing here, Shinazugawa-san?" she asked him with a flat expression.

"She passed out. I don't know what happened. She was standing, then she fell and passed out in my arms. Kocho, please help." He pleaded desperately.

Her expression turned concerned upon hearing that, and she quickly made her way to your room. Upon entering, she found you peacefully sleeping on the bed, tucked into the covers. As she checked your vitals, she noticed the box that Sanemi had dropped when he first entered the room. Looking up at him with realization, she said, "You were the one bringing the ohagi."

Sanemi's frustration boiled over, "She passed out and you're concerned about that damn snack?!"

"She's fine," Kocho said reassuringly. "She's just extremely iron deficient. Since we've been administering vital minerals through injections, her iron intake has been insufficient, among other things," she explained.

“No wonder she’s so fucken light,” Sanemi pieced together.

Kocho nodded, then turned her attention back to Sanemi. "What are you really doing here?" she asked again, her tone serious.

“None of ya business," he said, still keeping his gaze fixed on you.

"You said some really terrible things to her, Shinazugawa-san," Kocho reprimanded. "If I hear even the slightest whisper that you've caused her any harm,” she gave him a sweet smile. “I will gut you.”

Sanemi smirked at that, “I’d like to see you try.”

Kocho gave you one last look before sending Sanemi a vulgar gesture and leaving the room.

As you turned on your side, you felt a slight dip in the bed. Cracking open your eyes, you were met with the sight of a sleeping Sanemi. He sat on a stool with his arms resting on the bed, which served as makeshift pillows. He was softly snoring, and it was clear that he must have been watching over you until he fell asleep.

A gentle breeze wafted into the room, causing his hair to fall over his peaceful face. Without hesitation, you reached out and brushed his hair aside. The light touch made him choke on a snore and slowly open his eyes.

He gave you a sluggish smile, then gently took hold of your hand and pressed his lips against it, just as he had done the night before. Your body froze as a rush of warmth washed over you, making you feel a little flushed.

“Mornin’,” he said groggily, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Good morning,” you replied quietly, your stomach fluttering at the sound of his voice.

He ran his hand over his face in an attempt to wake himself up. "Let me get you some food," he said, his voice still thick with sleep.

You were about to protest and get out of bed yourself until he said, "Sit your pretty ass down."

You sat down.

Two weeks later

You approached the well-trodden path that led to a destination you had visited a few months earlier. As you neared the entrance, you politely knocked on the sturdy gate, which was soon opened by a female servant, who peered out cautiously.

As she recognized you, her eyes lit up with familiarity, and she quickly bowed low in greeting, gesturing for you to come inside the manor.

She led you through the house and towards the kitchen, the clanging of stones and ceramics hitting each other growing louder with every step.

"Shinazugawa-sama has a keen interest in domestic activities," the servant informed you. You couldn't help but suppress a smile at that. As you reached the entrance of the kitchen, she said, "I'll leave you here," and smiled.

You walked into the kitchen and were immediately hit with the aroma of various dishes. As you looked around, you saw Sanemi's godly figure standing at the counter. He wore black a hakama, a shirt nowhere in sight.

He was entirely focused on his task, his eyes fixed on the fishes in front of him as he sliced them with precision. You couldn't help but admire him, the way his muscles flexed as he worked and the sweat that glistened on his skin.

The servant's words from earlier made sense now - Sanemi had clearly been invested in domestic activities lately, and he seemed to have a talent for it.

You crept towards him until you were close enough to wrap your arms around his waist. Sanemi's body tensed for a moment as he jolted in surprise, causing him to almost drop the knife he was holding mid-air.

He quickly recovered, turning around to face you with a look of mild annoyance mixed with amusement. "Don't sneak up on me like that," he grumbled, though the corners of his lips turned up slightly.

As you chuckled, your breath tickled Sanemi's skin. "Couldn’t resist," you murmured, moving closer to him. Your lips brushed against his skin as you traced the scars on his back with feather-light kisses.

Sanemi's body tensed and he let out a choked sound. However, he didn't push you away. Instead, he slowly turned around to face you, his eyes meeting yours with a hint of desire.

You smirked at his reaction and began to detach yourself from him, intending to playfully tease him. However, before you could take a step away, Sanemi quickly grabbed your wrist.

You couldn't help but let out a surprised gasp as he pulled you closer to him, your bodies now pressed together. His grip on your waist was firm but not rough, and you could feel his warm breath on your neck.

You tilted your head, gazing at him through your lashes, "You fucken minx," he growled.

Your hands trailed up his thick arms, fingers gliding over the defined muscles before wrapping around the back of his neck. You played with his white hair, tugging at the strands lightly as you gazed deeply into his eyes. He couldn't help but flicker his gaze between your eyes and lips.

"I'm a minx now, Sanemi?" you playfully teased, emphasizing his name.

"Fuckin' don't start this," he ordered.

Your eyes flickered to his lips before returning to his gaze. "I really want to kiss you, ‘Nemi," you admitted, your voice low and sultry.

Sanemi's grip on your waist tightened, and he leaned down until his lips were dangerously close to yours. "Do it," he said, roughly.

Your heart raced with excitement as you finally gave in to your desire and pressed your lips to his. His taste was a sweet addiction that you couldn't get enough of. "Finally," he cursed, his lips parting to deepen the kiss.

As your bodies melted together, Sanemi lifted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his narrow waist. A soft moan escaped your lips as his tongue traced your lips, seeking entrance, and you eagerly granted it.

He set you on the counter and your hands trailed up to tug on his white hair, eliciting a low growl from him. He bit your lip in warning, and you couldn't help but let out a whimper of pleasure. The intensity of the kiss was overwhelming, and you were completely lost in the moment, consumed by your desire for him.

"’Nemi," you whimpered, feeling his lips trailing a path down your neck. You couldn't help but pull on his hair, urging him to continue as he left a trail of kisses and nips on your skin. Your heart was racing with desire as he found a sensitive spot on your neck and began to suck on it. The sensation was so overwhelming that you had to clap a hand over your mouth to stifle the sounds that threatened to escape.

"Lemme fucken hear," he rumbled, pulling your hand away from your mouth.

"I wanna hear everythin’ that escapes your pretty mouth, every moan, every gasp," he murmured in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "I wanna know that I'm makin’ you feel good." The intensity in his voice sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but let out a soft moan as he nibbled on your earlobe.

"’Nemi, the food-" you began.

"Fuck the food," he said.

Notes: This is my first post on Tumblr, as well as my first foray into writing. I'm not sure how it will turn out in the long run, but if you happen to be reading this, thank you for taking the time. I hope you have a lovely day!

In Another Life Part 3

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖨𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖯𝗂𝖾𝗍𝗋𝗈 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋. 𝖨𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾, 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝖠𝖽𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗂𝖿 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇’𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖩𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖯𝗈𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋; 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝗇𝗇𝗒, 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗍.

A/N: this is where the fun begins! wc: 4.3k

“Here.” Sirius says, handing James a paper cup with a lid on it. “Got you your usual.”

“Thanks.” James nods in appreciation, taking a sip as Sirius hands out the rest of the drinks.

“Why do we have to be there so early today?” Peter asks, eyes still heavy with sleep.

“Mm-mm.” Sirius shrugs. “Moody said.”

“Yeah, but why?” Peter whines.

“Must be something important.” Remus says, eyes flitting back and forth as he tries to figure out what it could be.

“So important we have to be in the office before the sun comes up?” He continues to complain.

“You wanted to be an auror.” Sirius sings.

“Yeah and now I’m regretting it.” Peter grumbles.

Everyone laughs at that. Well, everyone except James.

“You alright, Prongs?” Remus asks, finding his silence odd.

“Prongs…” Sirius calls, elbowing his friend.

“Hm?” He finally hums, frowning when he sees his friends staring at him in concern. “What?”

“Are you okay?” Remus asks again.

“Yeah.” James breathes with a nod. “Brilliant. Why…why do you ask?”

Sirius, Peter, and Remus share a look, silently asking someone to say something. Finally, Remus sighs.

“Well, it’s just… you’ve been kind of off since yesterday…” He trails off cautiously.

“Since you had that run in with that bird.” Sirius adds, getting straight to the point.

“Yeah, well, you would be too if some woman you’ve never seen before throws herself into your arms one second, and then refuses to be touched by you the next.” James says with a frown.

“Aw, is that what it is?” Sirius asks teasingly. “Poor little Prongs can’t handle rejection?”

“What? No!” James argues. “I just- I don’t know! I’m just wondering if she’s okay, you know? She seemed very upset…”

“I’m sure she’s fine.” Sirius says, waving off his friends' worries.

“She was probably just having a bad day.” Peter pipes up, more awake now.

James nods his head at that, though it’s clear he isn’t convinced.

“Thought you wanted something weird to happen…” Sirius mimicked.

“Shut up, Pads.” James grumbles, taking a final sip of his coffee.

The group of four are on high alert as soon as they step into the atrium. Sure, the Ministry is usually busy, but never like this. There are double the amount of officers and aurors, if not triple. The marauders watch wide-eyed as they all hurry to and fro, as if they’re preparing for something, as if they’re preparing for battle.

“How ya feeling, Wormtail?” Sirius asks, watching as a group of Unspeakables walk by.

“Wide awake.” Peter nods.

“Whatever’s going on, it must be bad.” Remus comments.

“Let’s hurry to Moody’s office.” James orders. “If anybody has answers, it’ll be him.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Moody?” James calls, knocking on his door as they all walk into his office.

He looks up at the intrusion, setting down some paperwork he was reading and standing from his desk.

“Come in,” He orders, waving his hand hurriedly. “And shut the door behind you.”

Remus, being the last one in, shuts the door and leans against it, crossing his arms as the others spread out.

“What’s going on?” Sirius asks, referring to everyone outside. “Are we running a drill of some sort?”

“I’m afraid it’s not a drill.” Moody informs them. “There’s a manhunt underway.”

“Manhunt?” James repeats, eyes widening in surprise.

“Has someone escaped from Azkaban?” Sirius asks.

“Or committed an unforgivable?” Peter adds.

“Neither.” Moody shakes his head. “A stranger’s arrived.”

“Okay?” Sirius asks, not getting the point.

“This one is using magic unlike anything we’ve ever seen before.” Moody explains grimly.

“How so?” Remus asks.

“I think it’s best if I show you.” Moody nods.

He grabs a glass vial, struggling with the lid before finally popping it off and pouring it into a basin. With a flick of his wand, the pulled memory starts projecting on the wall.

“A shop owner was on his way to work yesterday when he saw this.” Moody informs them.

It’s as if they’re seeing it through their own eyes. They can see the people passing by, and hear the tune the shop owner was whistling to himself. He groans when he steps on a piece of gum, grumbling to himself as he starts dragging his foot along the floor, trying to get it off. He looks to the side and does a double take when he sees a light coming from the alley.

The marauders watch in complete shock as a huge circle appears out of thin air; bright and sparkling. The moment you step out of the portal, Sirius, Peter, and Remus turn to look at James with wide eyes. He wordlessly puts a hand up, stopping them before they could even think of asking any questions.

“They didn’t even use a wand.” Moody says grimly, watching as Stephen steps back through the portal and disappears. “We have no idea where she is or what she’s capable of.”

“So what’s the plan?” Peter asks softly, looking nervously between Moody and James.

“Bring her in for questioning.” Moody says with a firm nod. “We’ll turn the city upside down, leaving no stone unturned. We’ll use excessive force if we have to.”

“No!” James shouts, standing from his seat.

Everyone in the room turns to look at him, and he awkwardly clears his throat.

“I mean, don’t you think that’s a bit much, sir?” James asks.

“She’s an outsider.” Moody tells him bluntly.

“She’s lost.” James argues with a shake of his head.

“She’s dangerous.” Moody continues.

“Dangerous? She’s scared! Look at her!” He exclaims, pointing to the projection. “Look at how tightly she’s holding that bag, how she’s shuffling her feet, look at…” James sighs softly, zeroing in on the tears threatening to fall. “Look at her eyes… She needs help…”

James and Moody stare each other down while Sirius, Peter, and Remus silently watch. Finally, Moody nods.

“You have a big heart, James.” He comments. “You always see the good in people, give them the benefit of the doubt. It’s very honorable.”

James nods his head in acknowledgement with a grin.

“But it’s not practical.”

“Sorry?” James asks, his smile dropping.

“You need to start thinking with your head, not your heart.” Moody tells him. “There’s no place in a war for a soft hearted person.”

“But we’re not in a war!” James says in exasperation. “Sir, trust me. Please. There’s no need for this. There’s no need to cause panic and mayhem. Especially when people are just starting to feel safe again. I’ll find her. We’ll find her.” He corrects, gesturing to his friends who nod, albeit confusedly. “We’ll bring her back here. She’ll come peacefully. I know she will.”

Moody stares at him in contemplation. For a moment, James thinks he might agree, that he might’ve gotten through to him. Then John Dawlish, another auror comes bursting into the room.

“Sir! Everybody’s ready.” He pants.

Nodding, Moody walks past James, heading towards the door.

“Tell them to start searching.” Moody says firmly. John nods his head and hurries back out.

“Question everyone, break down doors if you have to, I want her found by the end of the day!” He shouts after him.

“Sir-“ James tries again.

“You.” Moody says, turning around abruptly and pointing his finger at James. “You will follow orders or you will stay out of the way. Is that clear?”

James opens his mouth once more, wanting to argue one last time before sighing, dropping his shoulders in defeat.

“Yes, sir.” He nods solemnly.

“Good.” Moody nods in return, walking out of his office and leaving the four men behind.

The group of four all stand in the hallway, silently watching as chaos erupts in the ministry. Moody disappears, still shouting orders as hoards of aurors start running out.

“So…what are we gonna do?” Sirius asks, looking at James.

James doesn’t answer him. He doesn’t even look in his direction. Without a word, he makes a left and starts hurrying down the staircase, the marauders not far behind.

“James?” Peter calls, hastily grabbing onto the handrail when he skips a step and almost falls.

Still, James doesn’t pay them any mind. He pushes a side door open and slips out into the alley, his friends right behind him.

“Prongs!” Sirius finally shouts, grabbing James’ arm and yanking him back, stopping him from walking any further. “Bloody ‘ell! What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing.” He says bluntly, trying to walk past him.

Sirius puts a hand on his chest and shoves him back. James scowls in annoyance.

“Don’t give me that look.” Sirius scolds. “The fuck is going on?”

James continues to stare him down, silently seething when yet again Sirius stops him from leaving.

“Prongs… It’s us, mate.” Sirius reminds him with a chuckle.

“Whatever it is, you can tell us.” Remus assures.

Finally reaching his breaking point, James turns around, kicking a trash bin out of sheer frustration.

“He didn’t fucking listen to me!” He shouts, bringing a hand up, gesturing towards the city. “Now he’s got everyone out there looking for her, thinking she’s dangerous and treating her as if she’s some threat when she’s not and-“

“How do you know?” Remus asks, cutting him off.

James sighs, shrugging his shoulders at his friends, his brothers.

“I just do, mate.” He says simply.

“Because she hugged you?” Sirius asks. There’s no teasing in his voice, only genuine curiosity.

“Yes. I mean, no.” James stammers, shaking his head. “I saw it in her eyes yesterday. Before she ran off. And I saw it again just now in that memory that Moody showed us. She’s scared.”

“She’s just scared. She’s not gonna hurt anyone.” James insists. “And I know Moody said not to listen to my heart but it’s not just that. My gut is telling me that she’s not a danger.”

Sirius, Remus, and Peter all silently stare at James.

“Never mind.” He mumbles, shaking his head. “Forget I-“

“So, what are we gonna do?” Sirius asks again.

“What?” James asks, looking up at his friend.

“As annoying as it is, your gut feeling has never been wrong before.” Sirius tells him, crossing his arms with a roll of his eyes. “So? What’s it gonna be?”

“Pads, no.” James argues. “I can’t bring you down with me.”

“Should’ve thought about that before you shared a train compartment with us.” Remus teases with a grin.

James smiles back gratefully at him, at all of them.

“We’d be going against direct orders. Interfering with a mission. And defying our superior officers… You do get that, right?” James asks, stressing the gravity of the situation.

Peter, Remus, and Sirius all grin mischievously.

“Well, that makes it all the more fun, doesn’t it?” Peter asks, looking to Sirius and Remus for support. When they nod their heads in agreement, Peter turns back to James with a smile.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Where exactly are we going?” Sirius huffs, as they all run after James.

“Riiiiight here!” James answers, coming to an abrupt stop.

Peter looks around the plaza confused.

“Isn’t this where-“

“Where we saw that bird?” Sirius interrupts.

“Stop calling her that.” James groans with a frown. “But yes. We have the advantage here, guys. We were the last ones- if not the only ones- to interact with her. So while everyone else is aimlessly running around the city-“

“We have a better idea of where to look.” Remus finishes with a nod. “Prongs, you’re a genius.”

James shrugs bashfully as he turns around, scanning his surroundings.

“Alright, we know she went this way.” He says, as they turn a corner.

All four men sigh when they see it’s a busy street, filled with all sorts of shops and restaurants. It’d take ages for them to interview every person on this street.

“Split up?” Peter suggests.

“Split up.” James nods, already making his way down the sidewalk. “Use flagrate if you find anything!”

The marauders make quick work, popping into every establishment asking if they’ve seen you. It would be easier if they had a picture of some sort, but even with the most detailed descriptions (from James of course) the only word they’re hearing is “no.”

It isn’t until Peter stops to tie his shoe in front of a flower stall that they make a break in the case. Using flagrate, he spells out a quick message to his friends, telling them where to meet and they all arrive shortly after.

“What’d you find?” James asks as soon as he joins them.

“She isn’t certain, but she thinks she saw someone matching that girl's description yesterday.” Peter answers, already making his way down the street.

“Brilliant!” James exclaims as he and the others follow. “Which way’d she go?”

“Said she saw her heading towards Victoria Street.”

“That’s it?” James asks with a frown.

“Afterwards she moved her cart to a different area.” He informs him.

“It’s something.” Remus shrugs.

James scans all the businesses and sighs, running a hand through his hair. It won’t be long until the others arrive. Then you’ll really be in trouble. They all will. He sees an inn up ahead and his eyes widen.

“Look!” He exclaims, pointing to the inn before jogging over.

“The Cob Web?” Remus says, taking in the faded sign hanging above the door.

“Oh yeah. I forgot about this place.” Peter comments. “What’s the name of that fancy hotel that opened up a few years ago?”

“Oh!! The golden crown?” Sirius suggests, eyes lighting up. “Love that place.”

“Me too!” Peter agrees. “Have you been?” He asks Remus.

Remus shakes his head and Peter gasps in excitement.

“You have to go!” He insists. “They put a little bed on your nightstand for your wand.”

“Aw.” Remus coos.

“Guys! Can we please talk about the cute, tiny beds later?” James asks in exasperation, pushing open the door and walking in.

“Good morning!” An elderly woman at the front desk greets. “Checking in?”

“Um, no, sorry.” James shakes his head. “We’re actually looking for someone, maybe you’ve seen her? She’s about this tall, has Y/H/C hair, Y/E/C eyes…”

“Yes, of course!” She nods, clasping her hands in joy. “You made it! I’m so glad.”

“Sorry?” Sirius asks.

“Aren’t you her friends?”

“No… We’re actually with the Ministry.” James clarifies, holding up his badge to show her. “We were just hoping to ask her a few questions…”

“Oh… I see… That’s too bad.”

“Why‘s that?” Remus asks curiously.

The woman looks around before leaning closer, voice dropping to a whisper.

“She’s been sitting out in the garden all night. Thought she might’ve been waiting for someone. Poor girl looked completely lost when she stumbled in here.” She tells them. “She had no idea what galleons were…her money wasn’t even in pounds.”

“What type was it?” Peter asks.

“I couldn’t tell you.” The woman frowns with a shake of her head. “Maybe American…”

“Weird.” Peter comments.

“Between you and me, I think she was left here.”

“Whaaaat? What makes you say that?” Sirius asks with wide eyes, always one for gossip.

James’ mind replays the video that Moody showed them. He remembers how that weirdly dressed man stepped back into the portal, and how your feet shuffled, almost as if you wanted to go after him. He remembers how when you turned around, your eyes were already beginning to water, and it looked as if you muttered some sort of curse word under your breath. Is that what happened? Did you really get left behind? All by yourself?

“Right. Well. Thank you.” He nods, tapping his hand on the counter before heading towards the door. “We’re gonna go around the side so we don’t spook her.”

The innkeeper nods her head as Peter, Remus, and Sirius file out. James grimaces when he hears other aurors shouting in the distance.

“If anyone else from the Ministry comes in, can you just say you already spoke to someone? And that they didn’t find anything?”

She looks perplexed by his request but finds herself nodding nonetheless.

“Great. Thanks.” James nods a final time. “We’ll be quick.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The marauders come to a stop in front of the iron gate.

“I want you guys to keep your distance.” James tells them softly.

“Don’t wanna share your little girlfriend?” Sirius teases.

“I don’t wanna crowd her.” James corrects with a sigh, already knowing the teasing won’t come to an end anytime soon.

“Thought she wasn’t dangerous.” Peter comments.

“She isn’t. At least, I don’t think she is.” James assures. “But regardless, how would you feel if you found yourself cornered by a group of people you’ve never seen before?”

Seeing his point, they all nod their heads.

“We’ll hang back, Prongs.” Remus promises.

The back gate creaks open and the marauders shuffle in. James immediately spots you sitting on the steps. You’ve got your hands clasped together and tucked under your chin. You’re staring off to the side but it’s obvious that your mind is a million miles away. You didn’t even acknowledge them when they walked in. Thinking that you simply didn’t see them, James clears his throat, trying to get your attention, only for you to assume that he’s just wanting to go back inside.

“Sorry.” You apologize half heartedly, not even looking in his direction as you scoot over.

James turns to friends, unsure of what to do. Sirius shrugs his shoulders helplessly as Remus waves his hand, silently urging James to get closer.

Cautiously, James takes a step forward. Then another. And another, finally coming to a stop right in front of you. It’s only then that James finally captures your attention. With a sigh, you lift your head. Your eyes light up upon seeing James, but lose their sparkle a moment later as you continue to stare at him. Briefly, James wonders if you remember him at all; or if you mistook him for someone else again, same as you did yesterday, before shaking his head.

“Erm… Hi!” He greets awkwardly, bringing a hand up to wave at you.

You continue to silently stare at him before looking behind him, finally noticing his friends standing a few feet away.

Good thing I told them to keep their distance, he thinks to himself.

James smiles when you shift your piercing gaze back to him.

“Why are you here?” You ask instead of returning his greeting.

James’ smile drops and behind him, Sirius snorts in amusement. He quickly glares at him before turning to you once more.

“Can we talk?” He asks with what he hopes is a friendly grin.

Finding it difficult to look him in the eyes any longer, you turn your gaze away, choosing to stare at the ground instead.

“No.” You say softly, shaking your head just the tiniest bit.

“Sorry?” James asks.

Surely he heard you wrong.

“I said no.” You repeat, louder this time, still avoiding his eyes as you finally rise from the stairs. “I’m not in the mood for company.”

You open the screen door only for James to gently close it. You turn around, frowning at him and he at least has the decency to look sorry.

“I’m afraid I wasn’t asking, love.” He says with a sheepish grin. “We’re here on official business from the Ministry.”

He pulls out his badge and holds it up for you to see. After a few seconds of James awkwardly standing in front of you with his badge in your face, he goes to put it away, only for you to pull it out of his hands.

He watches curiously as you continue to inspect the badge; turning it this way and that, looking from his identification card to him, tracing the metal badge itself with your finger before finally turning your attention back to him, eyes full of confusion.

“You're from a church?” You ask, gazing up at him through your lashes.

James swallows harshly.

“No, love.” He shakes his head. “Ministry of Magic? You know, the-“

Suddenly a loud bang rings out, followed by the sound of someone shrieking.

“What was that?” You ask, head whipping around towards the noise.

“The Ministry.” James sighs.

“You said you were the Ministry.” You argue, frowning in confusion as you stare up at him.

“Part of it, yeah.” He nods as you hear another door be kicked open, this one sounding closer. You flinch at the loud noise and James steps closer to you. Whether you’re aware of what you’re doing or not, you reach out and grab his hand.

“The part that doesn’t kick down doors?” You try to joke, only to flinch when another loud bang rings out. “What are they doing?” You finally ask.

“Looking for you.” James says with a grimace.

“Me? Why me? I haven’t done anything!”

“I know,” He nods, “It’s a long story. We’ll explain everything. But we have to go.”

Seeing as you’re still holding hands, James tries to lead you down the stairs, only to come to an abrupt stop as you try to pull your hand away.

“What are you-“

“Let go.” You command feebly, still trying to free your hand from his grasp.

“Love, we don’t have time for this.” James stresses, both of you flinching when another door is kicked down. “We have to go.”

“Don’t call me love.” You glare at him, still trying to pull your arm free. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t know you!”

“Alright, fine! Whatever your name is! I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but we’re the nice guys, okay? The guys out there have orders to use excessive force to bring you down.”

You stop squirming for only a second before starting to pull yourself free again.

“I can manage.” You continue to argue.

“Oh really? You can manage?” James asks incredulously. “Are you sure? Aurors, unspeakables, dementors, do you have any idea what they’re authorized to do to you? Horrible things. Painful things. Things of nightmares.”

“Why do you even care what happens to me?!” You ask him.

You and James hold each other's gaze, noses practically touching, breaths mingling together. James’ gaze drops down to your lips for a fleeting moment before locking onto your eyes again.

“I don’t know.” He finally answers.

“You don’t know me.” You tell him softly, finally pulling your hand free and taking a step back.

“I don’t have to know you to know that this is wrong.” He answers. “This- this is all just a huge misunderstanding. They think you’re a threat.”

“To who?”

“Everyone.”

You let out a sigh as the gravity of what he’s just told you sets in. You’ve been here less than twenty four hours and already there’s a bounty on your head.

“Come with us.” James asks, gesturing towards his friends, still standing by the gate. “We’ll take you to the Ministry and get this whole thing sorted.”

Crossing your arms, you look over your shoulder to stare at his friends, smiling the tiniest bit when the blonde one waves enthusiastically at you.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” James promises, coming to a stop right in front of you.

You both hear when a group of aurors enter the inn, questioning the elderly woman at the front desk.

One last time, James holds his hand out, mentally begging you to take it.

“You can trust me.” He whispers with a nod.

For some reason, maybe because he looks so much like Pietro, you find yourself believing him. Without another word you place your hand in his, letting him lead you down the stairs and towards his friends.

“Great. We got the girl.” Sirius nods. “What’s next?”

“Get the hell outta dodge?” Remus guesses.

“Precisely.” James nods. “Everyone apparate to my house.”

“Your house?!” Everyone asks.

“They won’t think to look there.” He hurries to explain. “We need the heat to die down a bit before we can take her to the Ministry. If we walk in now, they’ll swarm her.”

“Not to mention Moody would kill you himself.” Peter mumbles.

“Yes, Wormtail. Thanks so much for that.” James nods with a sarcastic smile.

Peter looks up with wide eyes, embarrassed at having been heard as Sirius and Remus snicker in amusement.

“You know how to apparate, right?” James asks, coming to a stop right in front of you.

Apparate? You think to yourself. What the hell does that mean?

“Um. I-“ You stutter, suddenly scared for some reason, worried that they’ll leave you behind if they find out you don’t know how to do that. Whatever that is.

“Hey.” James calls softly, head ducking down to catch your gaze. “It’s okay.” He assures you with a kind smile. When he smiles at you like that he looks so much like Pietro it’s scary.

You sneak a quick glance at his friends before leaning closer to James, feeling embarrassed as you whisper the situation to him.

“I-I don’t.” You start, only to shake your head and try again. “I’ve never-“

“You’ve never apparated before?” James asks with wide eyes. “Where exactly are you from?”

“Uhm…”

“That’s alright! You can just hitch a ride with me.” He nods with a wink.

You let out a sigh of relief, nodding in appreciation.

“Fair warning, you will get dizzy. Just- close your eyes. Trust me, it’ll help.”

“Okay.” You nod, watching in shock as his friends simply pop away.

You turn back to James and see that he’s holding his hand out to you. Cautiously, you place your hand in his, not missing the way he smiles when you do. You look at your clasped hands and wonder how something can feel so familiar yet so completely foreign. James gives your hand a comforting squeeze and when you gaze up at him, he smiles reassuringly at you once more.

“If the ride gets too bumpy feel free to hold onto me, okay?”

You nod your head and then close your eyes, bracing yourself for whatever’s about to happen next.

#he's not just some guy he's my WIFE

↳ iconic hobi tags by and for @hopeinthebox 🤍 cr. jung-koook, 0613data

Arrangement Crossed | K.Mg

Pairing: Mingyu x reader

Genre: arrange engagement au

Summary: Mingyu started to enjoy the arrangement between him and you. What should he do?

Why do birds suddenly appear everytime that you near? Just like me i long to be close to you. - Close To You by Carpenters

Mingyu sprinted from his car, heart pounding, as he rushed toward the scene. One of the doctors at the hospital had mentioned that a fire had broken out in a Gangnam district building—your building. His breath was ragged as he pushed through the crowd, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene. Paramedics and firefighters swarmed the area, the flames now subdued, but the remnants of the fire still smoked in the air. A police officer stopped him from moving closer.

"My fiancée lives there," Mingyu gasped, his voice tight with anxiety.

Just as the officer held him back, he spotted you in the distance. You were casually walking, still in your pajamas, holding a half-eaten ice cream cone. Mingyu's eyes widened, watching as your expression changed the moment you took in the sight of your charred apartment building.

"My apartment!" you exclaimed, your voice laced with frustration as Mingyu hurried over to you.

Mingyu quickly examined you, scanning for any signs of injury. A wave of relief washed over him when he realized you had been safely outside while the fire ravaged your home. His tense shoulders relaxed for the first time since hearing the news.

"Where were you?" he asked, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that you seemed so unfazed by the chaos around you.

You blinked, a bit dazed by everything. "I was out for a meal..."

Mingyu glanced at his watch—half and an hour left before his surgery. "I'm glad you're alright. I’ll drive you to my place for now. I’ve got surgery in an hour."

The procedure went smoothly, but exhaustion weighed heavily on him as he sat in his office afterward. All he wanted was to go home and collapse into bed. But he hesitated, remembering that you were now at his apartment. The two of you had never really shared a space before, and the thought made him uneasy. After all, this wasn’t a typical engagement.

A year ago, your families had arranged for you two to be engaged. It was strictly business—a merger of two powerful legacies. Your family owned the hospital where Mingyu worked, while his family operated a successful medical and paramedical equipment company. It made sense for the families to align themselves, and though the proposal had taken him by surprise, Mingyu agreed to the engagement. What really caught him off guard was that you agreed too.

From what Mingyu knew, you ran a small homemade Korean restaurant near Seoul University. It wasn’t a huge enterprise, but it had a loyal customer base thanks to its affordable prices and excellent food. When news of the engagement broke, everyone speculated that your family needed Mingyu to step in and continue running the hospital, especially since you showed no interest in taking it over yourself. Mingyu knew he benefited a lot from this arrangement—more than he was willing to admit sometimes.

It was nearly morning when Mingyu finally arrived home, expecting you to be fast asleep. He took a quick shower, hoping to unwind before getting some rest. But when he stepped into the living room, he nearly jumped out of his skin. You were sitting on the couch, staring into the darkness.

"You scared me!" Mingyu muttered, his heart still racing. "Why aren’t you sleeping?"

You shot him a sharp look, your voice dry. "My house just burned down. How could I possibly sleep soundly?"

Ah, right. He had forgotten that small but important detail.

"Right... of course." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, make yourself at home. Feel free to use the kitchen if you want breakfast. I’ll head to bed."

Mingyu retreated to his room, hoping for some much-needed rest. But as he lay there, he found sleep impossible. His mind kept drifting back to the strange reality that the two of you were now sharing a roof. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you—far from it. You were smart, independent, and capable. But the idea of being engaged, living together, and yet still feeling like you were strangers unnerved him in ways he couldn’t quite explain.

"Yeah, she's fine. She's alright. She's with me. I'll handle things with the building owner about her place. You don’t have to worry, sir." Mingyu reassured your father over the phone as he finished getting ready for work.

Despite having only gotten three hours of sleep, Mingyu needed to be at the hospital for an early morning meeting as the branch director. He had already filled your father in on last night’s fire, assuring him that you were safe and staying with him for the time being. Ending the call, he stepped out of the closet and made his way to the kitchen, where he was greeted by the sight of you preparing breakfast.

You were wearing one of his shirts.

"I’ll call you later, sir," Mingyu said quickly before hanging up, his eyes immediately locking with yours as he entered the kitchen.

You glanced at him briefly, then gestured for him to sit down as you placed the plates on the table. Mingyu couldn’t help but stare for a moment. You must have noticed because you spoke up.

"I didn’t have any clothes with me," you explained, a hint of self-consciousness in your voice. "I borrowed your shirt, if you don’t mind."

Mingyu nodded. "It's fine."

An awkward silence lingered for a moment before he asked, "Is there anything you need to do today?"

You thought for a second. "I definitely need to get some clothes first. And maybe check on the restaurant."

Mingyu thanked you for the food as you joined him at the table. He picked up his spoon, and as soon as he took a bite, his eyes widened in surprise. The breakfast was incredible. He had visited your restaurant a couple of times and knew you were the mastermind behind the recipes, having graduated with a degree in culinary arts. But still, he hadn’t expected his simple morning meal to taste this good.

"How about your belongings?" he asked between bites. "Anything important you need to check, like documents or valuables?"

"Luckily, I left all my important documents at my parents' place," you said, relieved. "But I do need to talk to the building owner about the fire and the damage."

Mingyu nodded thoughtfully. "I’ll go with you."

You both finished breakfast in comfortable silence, and as Mingyu got up to leave for work, he thanked you again for the meal. Before heading out, he made a few calls, one to the aunt who cleaned his house regularly, asking her to pick up some women’s clothes for you, and another to the building manager to arrange an extra parking space for your car.

As he drove to the hospital, he reflected on the morning. He hadn’t expected starting the day with you to feel so... easy. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like if your engagement weren’t just a business arrangement. The thought lingered in the back of his mind as he went on with his day.

"Doctor Kim, thank you for the meal!" the nurses chimed in as Mingyu passed by the emergency room station during his daily rounds.

He blinked in confusion, unsure of what they were referring to. Then, he spotted the neatly packed meals from your restaurant sitting on the counter. You had sent food to his staff. It was thoughtful—something he hadn't expected but appreciated. Mingyu smiled and waved to the nurses, telling them to enjoy the meal before heading to his office, where he found a meal from your restaurant waiting for him as well.

Mingyu quickly shot you a text: Thanks for the meal, everyone’s enjoying it.

You didn’t respond, and Mingyu wasn’t surprised. He rarely texted you, and from what he had observed, you were just as busy as he was. He could understand if you weren’t glued to your phone all the time. Besides, it’s not like he was your priority when it came to messaging.

Over the past week of living together, Mingyu had noticed that the two of you had fallen into a quiet, predictable routine. You would both wake up early, have breakfast together, head off to work, return late in the evening, and go straight to bed. The cycle repeated itself day after day, with only a few short exchanges of "How was work?" or "Did you sleep well?" in between. It was strange to be living under the same roof, sharing meals, and yet feeling like you were still strangers in many ways.

That morning, you casually mentioned that you had signed the lease on a new apartment, not far from your restaurant.

"Do you want to go furniture shopping with me?" you asked over breakfast.

"Sure" Mingyu agreed without hesitation.

And now, here he was, sitting on his couch in a casual outfit, waiting to go furniture shopping with you. It felt like an odd thing to be doing with someone who was supposed to be his fiancée, yet didn’t quite feel like one. Still, Mingyu couldn’t shake the curiosity growing inside him—the thought of spending more time with you, learning more about you beyond the polite small talk and daily routine. He wasn't sure if it would change anything between you, but part of him wanted to try.

"This couch looks good. It fits a lot of people," Mingyu said, running his hand over the fabric as you continued to browse.

You shook your head, clearly unimpressed. "I don't get visitors."

Mingyu chuckled, leaning in a little closer. "What about friends? Boyfriend, maybe?" he teased with a playful grin.

You scoffed and held up your left hand, flashing the engagement ring in front of him. "In case you forgot, I’m engaged."

Mingyu’s eyes flickered to the ring, and he was momentarily struck by the sight of it. You always wore the ring, even though the engagement had been arranged. He, on the other hand, rarely wore his—only during major events or family meetings where it was expected. His profession didn’t really allow for accessories, so he often went without it. But seeing you wear it regularly was a subtle reminder of the commitment hanging between you both.

"Right, how could I forget?" he replied, smoothly continuing the conversation as if the ring hadn’t stirred something unspoken inside him.

Despite the casual banter, the moment felt a little heavier than it should have. He couldn't quite shake the realization that the ring—a symbol of their engagement—was more present in your life than his. It was a quiet declaration, whether intentional or not, that you were his fiancée.

When it came time to pay, Mingyu insisted on covering everything, even after your countless protests. He waved off your refusals, casually brushing them aside as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to take care of it.

"A rib for dinner?" Mingyu requested once he done paying. How dare you to refused.

*

After ten days of living together, Mingyu realized how quiet and empty his place felt without you around. He found himself looking for any excuse to see you, whether it was a quick text, a call, or even dropping by your restaurant. Without fully realizing it, the relationship between the two of you had begun to shift into something he hadn’t expected.

At this point, almost all of your staff knew him. They had even started referring to him as "the boss's handsome fiancé" every time he walked through the door. This month alone, he had visited your restaurant 8 times—sometimes for a meal, sometimes just to drive you home. And he was relieved that you didn’t seem uncomfortable with his presence. In fact, you appeared to be getting used to it, just as he was.

One afternoon, as Mingyu made his rounds at the hospital, he overheard a group of nurses whispering as he passed by, his name mentioned in their conversation.

"If she's the daughter of the owner, then she must be Doctor Kim’s fiancée, right?"

Mingyu, always the friendly type, chimed in with a grin. "I heard my name."

The nurses looked a bit startled but quickly filled him in. "Doctor Kim, the owner's daughter was brought into the emergency room after being assaulted. Isn't she your fiancée?"

What?

Mingyu’s stomach dropped. Without wasting a second, he grabbed his phone and immediately dialed your number. It rang, but someone else picked up.

"Y/n?" he asked, his voice tight with concern.

"Ah, Mr. Kim? She left her phone behind. She's at the hospital right now. A crazy person caused a scene and she got hurt."

Mingyu didn’t wait for more details. He bolted to the emergency room, his mind racing. When he got there, he hurried to the nurses’ station and asked for your whereabouts.

They directed him to a bed where he finally saw you—sitting up, your arm and head wrapped in bandages, while a doctor carefully tended to your injuries. Relief washed over him, but it was mixed with a surge of worry and anger at what had happened.

He approached you cautiously, his heart still pounding in his chest.

You looked up at Mingyu and smiled, a wave of relief washing over you as soon as you saw him by your side. As the doctor finished tending to your wounds, he greeted Mingyu and explained that you would need to wait for the results of the X-ray, as you had hit your head during the incident.

Once the doctor left, Mingyu turned his full attention to you, his eyes scanning over your injuries with a mixture of concern and relief. Without saying a word, he gently pulled you into an embrace, holding you close as if making sure you were really okay.

"I'm so glad it wasn't worse," he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with emotion. He pulled back slightly to look at you. "What happened?"

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the lingering tension from the day. "There was this drunk guy, making a scene in the restaurant. He was about to hit one of my staff, so I stepped in. I got pushed and my head hit the table. This," you pointed to your bandaged arm, "is from some shattered glass."

Mingyu sighed, his jaw tightening in frustration. "I'm calling the police," he said firmly, standing up as if ready to take action immediately.

But you reached out and grabbed his hand, stopping him. "It's already been reported. My staff handled it."

Mingyu paused, looking down at you, the worry still clear in his eyes. Though the situation had already been dealt with, his protective instincts were hard to turn off. He sat back down next to you, still holding your hand, as if to reassure himself you were safe now.

Your mother, the vice president, appeared in the emergency room, her presence commanding attention as she quickly made her way toward you. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of her, though you could see the worry etched in her expression.

"My heart dropped when I heard my daughter was in the emergency room. Are you okay, honey?" she asked, her voice laced with concern as she reached out to touch your arm.

"I'm fine, Mom," you reassured her with a small smile, trying to ease her worry.

Mingyu stood quietly to the side, observing the exchange with a sense of relief. He was glad to see how close you were with your family, something he hadn’t really gotten to witness much before.

Then your mother turned her attention to Mingyu, who stood respectfully behind her. Her gaze softened as she acknowledged him.

"Thank you, Mingyu. I heard you’ve been taking care of my daughter, especially after she lost her apartment in the fire. And now you're here again," she said, her gratitude clear.

Mingyu bowed slightly, feeling the weight of her words. "It's my pleasure, ma'am," he responded with sincerity.

Your mother waved off the formality with a warm smile. "No need for 'ma'am.' Call me Mother. After all, you're part of the family now—my daughter's fiancé."

The words caught Mingyu a little off guard, though he masked it with a polite nod. He glanced at you, noticing the subtle shift in the room. The formality of your engagement suddenly felt a bit more personal, more real.

After spending some more time talking with your mother and assuring her you were okay, the X-ray results came back clear. The doctor recommended rest and monitoring for the next few days to ensure there were no lingering effects from the head injury. With that, Mingyu insisted on taking you home.

As you left the hospital, Mingyu walked by your side, his hand resting gently on your lower back as he guided you to the car. The day had been exhausting, but knowing that Mingyu was there gave you a strange sense of comfort. It was a feeling that was becoming more familiar lately.

The drive home was quiet, with Mingyu occasionally glancing over to check on you. You stared out the window, your mind still processing everything that had happened, from the fire at your apartment to the incident today. You felt the weight of it all, but at the same time, there was a sense of relief that you weren’t alone in dealing with it.

When Mingyu pulled into his apartment complex, he parked the car and quickly came around to your side to help you out. You couldn’t help but smile at how attentive he was.

As you sat on the couch, trying to unwind from the long day, Mingyu hovered nearby, clearly still worried. You noticed his eyes flicking over to you every few minutes, as if checking to make sure you were really okay.

"You really should rest," he said, standing up and grabbing a blanket from the nearby chair. "I can see you're exhausted."

"I’m fine, Mingyu," you protested softly, though you knew you needed the rest.

He walked over, gently draping the blanket over you, his hands lingering for a moment as he looked down at you. “Just lie down, please. Doctor's orders,” he added with a small, teasing smile, trying to lighten the mood.

You sighed, giving in. The exhaustion was catching up with you, and the couch felt more comfortable with the blanket wrapped around you. As you shifted to lie down, Mingyu crouched down beside you, his expression softening as he watched you settle.

"Better?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

You nodded, pulling the blanket closer. “Yeah, better.”

He lingered for a moment before standing up again, running a hand through his hair. "I think I’ll stay out here with you, just in case you need anything.”

"You don’t have to—" you started to protest, but Mingyu was already grabbing a pillow for himself and setting it on the other end of the couch.

"I know, but I want to," he said simply, lying down beside you, keeping a respectful distance. “We both need to rest anyway. This way, I’ll be right here if anything happens.”

You turned your head slightly to look at him, noticing how comfortable and natural he seemed lying next to you. The tension that had been hanging in the air for weeks felt like it was slowly fading, replaced by an unexpected sense of ease.

"Alright," you murmured, closing your eyes.

Mingyu lay there quietly, the soft rise and fall of his breathing the only sound in the room. He wasn’t saying much, but his presence was steady, reassuring in a way that made you feel safe. After a few moments, he shifted slightly closer, his hand brushing against yours under the blanket. He didn’t say anything, but the gesture spoke volumes.

You didn’t pull away. Instead, you let the quiet warmth between the two of you settle in, realizing that maybe this arrangement between you wasn’t so bad after all.

As you drifted off to sleep, you could feel Mingyu relax beside you. The weight of the day slowly lifted, and with him lying there next to you, it felt easier to rest.

As evening approached, the soft glow of the setting sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm light over the room. You and Mingyu had both woken up from your nap, feeling more rested but still shaken from the day's events. Mingyu sat up, glancing over at you with a gentle smile.

“Do you need anything?” he asked, his voice still soft but with a hint of concern.

You shook your head, feeling more at ease now. “No, I’m okay. Thanks for staying with me.”

He nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Actually, I should probably check and clean your wound properly. Just to make sure it’s healing well.”

You hesitated for a moment but then nodded, realizing it would be reassuring to have him take care of you. Mingyu moved to get a first aid kit from the bathroom, then returned and sat next to you on the couch. As he began to carefully clean the wound on your head, his concentration was palpable.

The proximity brought an unexpected intimacy. Mingyu’s breath lightly brushed against your skin, and you could feel the warmth of his body close to yours. You glanced up at him, and for the first time, you noticed how dangerously close his face was to yours. The closeness made both of you acutely aware of each other, and suddenly, your cheeks flushed a soft pink.

There was a moment of shared awkwardness where neither of you knew quite what to say. Mingyu’s fingers brushed lightly against your forehead, and a nervous laugh escaped both of you simultaneously. The sound was light and shy, a clear indicator of the tension and the new feelings stirring between you.

Mingyu’s hands paused as he looked at you, his eyes meeting yours with an earnest expression. The silence between you was thick with unspoken emotions. He seemed to be gauging your reaction, his gaze shifting from your eyes to your lips.

Without breaking eye contact, Mingyu leaned in slowly, and you felt a rush of anticipation. For a heartbeat, everything seemed to stand still. Then, ever so gently, he pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was tender and soft, a simple yet profound gesture that spoke volumes.

You responded instinctively, your lips moving against his in a hesitant, exploring dance. The kiss deepened just slightly, filled with a mutual tenderness that neither of you had expected but both seemed to crave. When Mingyu finally pulled back, his expression was a mix of relief and uncertainty.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, a slight blush still visible on his cheeks. “I just... I needed to do that.”

You smiled softly, reaching out to gently touch his face. “It’s okay. I think I needed it too.”

Mingyu’s smile was more relaxed now, a genuine warmth in his eyes. He resumed cleaning the wound with a renewed calm, the previous tension replaced by a new, comforting closeness. As he finished, you both settled back into the couch, the space between you now filled with a quiet, shared understanding.

Mingyu set aside the first aid kit and took a deep breath, his gaze locking with yours. “I... I know this might sound sudden, but I think we need to talk about where we go from here.”

You looked at him with curiosity and a hint of apprehension, waiting for him to continue.

He shifted slightly, his expression earnest. “I know our relationship started out as a business arrangement, and things between us have been... different from what I expected. But after spending time with you, especially today, I’ve realized something.”

You watched him closely, feeling a flutter of anticipation in your chest.

“Mingyu, what is it?” you asked softly.

He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us. About how we’ve been living together, how you’ve been there for me in ways I didn’t expect. And honestly, I’ve come to realize that I really like you. More than just as my fiancée. I want to be with you, not just because of our families or the arrangement, but because I genuinely care about you.”

His words hung in the air, and you could feel the sincerity behind them. Mingyu reached out and took your hand in his, his touch gentle and reassuring.

“I want to start over,” he continued, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I want us to settle everything that’s happened and move forward. I want to take you out on dates, to spend time with you as someone I truly treasure. Not just because it’s what’s expected, but because it’s what I genuinely want.”

Your heart raced as you listened, his confession a mix of relief and excitement. It was clear that Mingyu wasn’t just fulfilling a duty anymore—he was speaking from the heart.

“I’ve felt the same way,” you admitted, squeezing his hand. “I never expected this arrangement to lead to something real, but it has. I’ve come to care about you a lot, and I’d like to see where this could go, too.”

Mingyu’s face brightened with a hopeful smile. “So, are we starting over then? Taking a chance on something that’s more than just an arrangement?”

You nodded, a smile of your own spreading across your face. “Yes, let’s start over. I’d like that.”

With a sense of newfound clarity and excitement, Mingyu leaned in and kissed you again, this time with a deeper sense of commitment. It was a kiss that promised not just the continuation of an engagement but the beginning of something much more meaningful.

As the evening drew on, you and Mingyu talked more about your hopes and plans for the future, feeling a sense of anticipation and warmth. The journey ahead was still uncertain, but now it was a journey you were both eager to take together, as partners who truly cared for each other.

*

“Because you’re handsome?” Mingyu chuckled softly, clearly amused by your answer. He had asked you why you accepted the engagement in the first place, and he hadn’t expected your candid response.

“Of course, you’re very handsome and attractive,” you said with a playful glint in your eye. “But beyond that, I didn’t have anyone special, and I didn’t want to go against my parents’ kind intentions, especially when it didn’t harm me.”

“You didn’t go against it?” Mingyu asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

You paused to think before shaking your head. “No, not at all. I wasn’t planning to get married. I was just focused on my business.”

Mingyu nodded thoughtfully. “How about now?”

“What do you mean now?” you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.

“Get married,” he clarified. “Do you want to get married?”

It had been three years since the engagement, and throughout that time, you and Mingyu had maintained your commitment to each other. Even though your parents had pushed for a wedding, you both had insisted on getting to know each other better. It was only after a year of engagement that you truly began to enjoy each other’s presence.

“With you?” you asked innocently, and Mingyu rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

“I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t with me. Do you want to get married to me?”

A scowl formed on your face as you stared at him, your emotions a mix of surprise and curiosity. “Are you proposing?”

Mingyu laughed, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Why? You don’t like it, baby?”

The scowl melted away, replaced by a warm and genuine smile. “I’d love to. I’ve been happy these two years with you. Why not be happy forever?”

Mingyu’s expression softened as he cupped your cheeks gently. “You’re really happy?”

You nodded, your eyes shining with sincerity.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. “Then I’m happy too.”

In that moment, it felt as if everything had come full circle. The uncertainty of the past had given way to a future filled with promise, and both of you were ready to embrace it together.

✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ BIRDS OF A FEATHER ♡·˚

— [♡] ; as satoru awakens, his shattered body held together by fragile stitches. ｡°. gojo satoru

tags: amnesia, afab!reader, angst, gore description, trauma, character injury, emotional pain, grief, hurt/comfort, hopeful ending.

wc. 4K

Shoko had called for your help.

You had heard the news—Gojo had fallen. Cut down in a final, devastating blow by Sukuna. The world-slicing technique had severed him in half. The words hadn’t felt real at first, your mind unable to process the gravity of it. But the moment you stepped into the room where Shoko was working, the reality hit you like a tidal wave.

There, on the table, was Gojo. His body, broken, his skin pale, blood staining the sheets beneath him.

Your heart stopped.

Shoko had been quick and efficient, barely sparing you a glance as you stepped into the room. She was in the middle of a frantic process—using her cursed techniques to stabilize his body. But it wasn’t enough. She needed help with the physical repairs, and as much as you wanted to scream, to run, you couldn’t leave.

Shoko had given you gloves. You had forgotten to put them on.

The stitching was brutal—blood soaked your hands, his blood, as you helped sew his body back together. The torn flesh, the broken bones—it was too much. Each stitch felt like you were tying yourself to the reality of his fragility. You wanted to cry, to scream, to beg for this nightmare to end. But all you could do was push through, follow Shoko’s methodical instructions, and hope that this wasn’t the end.

“Hold the skin there—tighter,” Shoko’s voice cut through your haze, steady and sure. She was the only one who could handle this, but even she couldn’t hide the gravity of what had happened.

Your hands trembled as you followed her orders, your vision blurring with unshed tears as you watched his chest—still, unmoving.

Gojo Satoru, the invincible, the strongest… reduced to this. A lifeless body in front of you, cold and pale. The man you had loved in silence, the one who had always seemed untouchable, was on the verge of slipping away forever.

“Please…” you whispered under your breath, a silent prayer that Shoko’s efforts would be enough. That all the pain and blood wouldn’t be for nothing. “Please…”

Shoko continued her work, her brow furrowed in concentration, but you could see the strain in her eyes. She was exhausted, the toll of trying to bring Gojo back was immense, but she wasn’t giving up. Neither could you.

The minutes dragged on like hours. Every second felt like an eternity as you stitched, your hands growing numb from the constant effort. The room was suffocating, filled with the metallic scent of blood, the beeping of the equipment Shoko had set up, and the terrible, deafening silence from Satoru.

It hadn’t always been this way.

You remembered the first time you had met him. It was years ago, when you were just a new student at Jujutsu High, awkward and shy, feeling out of place among the powerful sorcerers. He had walked into the room like a whirlwind, bright and carefree, exuding confidence that made him seem untouchable.

"Hey, kid," he had greeted you with that signature smirk, his blindfold obscuring those piercing eyes. "You gonna stand there all day or you gonna learn something?"

Your heart had raced, embarrassment blooming in your chest as you stammered out a response. You were nothing compared to him—he was the strongest, the shining star everyone gravitated toward. You? You were just another student, lost in the background.

But Gojo had never treated you like that.

For all his arrogance, for all his swagger, he had always made time for you. His teasing was endless, and yet... it felt like attention. Every sarcastic comment, every mock fight, every casual gesture like flicking your forehead when you got an answer wrong or tousling your hair when you nailed a technique—it made your heart flutter, even though you knew it was just him being Gojo. He was like that with everyone. Playful. Reckless. Charming.

And you were just a part of the crowd, an afterthought in the sea of his admirers.

But you had fallen for him anyway. Hard.

Because all that mattered to you was him.

As you stood beside Shoko, your hands trembling, your mind struggling to process the scene in front of you. The cursed energy flowed from her in desperate waves as she worked, her hands moving with a surgeon’s precision, but her usual calm was gone. There was no confidence, no assurance. Just panic.

“It’s not working,” Shoko’s voice cracked, her words barely a whisper, yet they hit you like a sledgehammer. "His body... it’s rejecting the healing. The cursed energy inside him is too unstable, too fractured."

Your heart clenched painfully. You could see it—the gashes on his body were deep, visceral, tearing through muscle and bone as if he were made of paper. He was falling apart, unraveling in front of you. His blood was on your hands, literally and figuratively. You had helped Shoko stitch his wounds, but even with your combined efforts, it wasn’t enough.

It was never going to be enough.

And there was only one option left.

Your cursed technique — Eternal Rebirth.

The very thought of it made your chest tighten, made your breath hitch in your throat. You had used it before—countless times, saving people from the death at the cost of erasing yourself from their memories. It was a trade-off, one you had grown painfully accustomed to. But this... this was different.

This was Gojo.

He wasn’t just anyone. He wasn’t just another fleeting life passing through your hands. He was... everything.

The weight of that truth crushed you, bearing down on your chest like a heavy stone. All those moments—the laughter, the teasing, the way he’d casually ruffle your hair, his voice light and playful as he called you ‘kid’—they surged to the forefront of your mind. You had kept it hidden, buried beneath layers of propriety and caution. He had never known. To him, you were just another student.

But to you, he was the world.

Shoko’s eyes met yours, and you could see the silent question in them. She didn’t say it, but she knew. She always knew. The room felt colder, the silence heavier as you stood there, staring down at the man who had never truly seen you.

"Are you going to use it?" Her voice was soft, filled with a sadness that mirrored your own.

Your throat felt tight, the words lodged somewhere deep inside you, suffocating you. Instead of answering, you looked down at Gojo. Without blindfolds, revealing his eyes—those brilliant blue orbs, now dull, half-lidded and unfocused. Blood splattered his face, his lips slightly parted, chest not moving at all. He looked so peaceful in that moment.

And your heart shattered.

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his hand. The cold of his skin sent a jolt through you, a cruel reminder of what was slipping away.

"I have to," you whispered, more to yourself than to Shoko. "I can’t... I can’t let him die."

Your voice broke, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. But you blinked them away. You couldn’t cry. Not now. Not when everything was on the line. You bit down on your lip until you tasted blood, grounding yourself in the pain, forcing yourself to stay focused.

Shoko stepped back, giving you the space you needed. Her eyes were full of sorrow, of helplessness. She knew what this would cost you. She knew that no matter what you did, you would lose something tonight.

Slowly, you knelt beside Gojo, placing your trembling hands over his chest. His blood soaked through your fingers, warm and sticky, a sickening contrast to the cold, hollow ache inside you.

And you realized, with a devastating certainty, that saving him would destroy you.

Taking a shaky breath, you called on your cursed technique. It surged through you, powerful and all-consuming. Your hands glowed with a soft, ethereal light as the cursed energy began to wrap around Gojo’s body like a cocoon. You could feel it—the pull. It started slow, then intensified, like a thread being unraveled, piece by piece.

Gojo’s body twitched beneath your hands as your energy poured into him, mending what had been shattered, stitching him back together. His chest rose and fell more steadily, the bleeding stopped, and slowly—agonizingly slowly—his wounds began to close.

But with every piece of him you saved, a piece of you was lost.

You could feel it, the emptiness spreading inside you, consuming you. You were unraveling, coming apart at the seams, and you knew—oh god, you knew—that when it was over, he wouldn’t remember you. He wouldn’t remember your face, your voice, the way he’d teased you, or the way you’d loved him in silence.

He wouldn’t even remember your name.

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you fought to keep going, as the energy drained from you faster and faster, until you were gasping, barely able to hold on. But you had to finish. You couldn’t stop now. You had to save him.

You had to.

And then... it was over.

The cursed energy faded, leaving you empty, hollow. Your hands slipped from his chest, falling limp at your sides. His breathing had steadied, the rise and fall of his chest rhythmic, strong.

He was alive.

But you... you were nothing.

Gojo’s eyes fluttered open, those familiar blue eyes focusing, still dazed but unmistakably alive. He blinked, looking around, his gaze settling on Shoko. His expression was confused, but there was no recognition in his eyes. No flicker of acknowledgment.

He didn’t know you.

You stumbled back, the pain in your chest unbearable, your heart splintering with every second that passed. Shoko glanced at you, sympathy in her eyes, but you couldn’t look at her. You couldn’t look at him.

“Gojo,” Shoko’s voice was soft, careful, as if afraid to break the fragile silence. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Gojo sat up slowly, wincing, his hand going to his head. "What happened?" His voice was hoarse, but familiar. Too familiar.

You turned, your legs barely carrying you as you stumbled toward the door. You couldn’t stay here. You couldn’t bear to see him look right through you, as if you were a ghost.

Gojo Satoru had never known fear.

Not real fear, anyway. The kind that settled deep in your bones, making every breath heavy and labored. The kind that came from knowing, without a shadow of a doubt, that death was upon you.

But as Sukuna’s slash tore through the fabric of reality itself—through his body—Gojo felt something he hadn’t felt in years. Panic.

The world slowed, everything blurring as his torso split cleanly in two. He’d always prided himself on his limitless potential, his unparalleled strength. He was the strongest, after all. Untouchable. Invincible.

But now, Gojo was falling. In slow motion, he saw the spray of his own blood, the sound of it rushing in his ears as his body came apart. The pain was distant, almost abstract, but the reality of what had happened hit him with brutal clarity.

This was it.

The strongest had fallen.

As his vision darkened, there was a fleeting thought of regret. Not for the battle lost, not even for the way Sukuna had outplayed him. But for the people he was leaving behind. His students—his kids—who had fought so hard to bring him back from the Prison Realm. And you. The thought of you, waiting at Jujutsu High, hit him harder than Sukuna’s attack ever could.

Then, nothing.

Gojo also didn’t expect to wake up.

But he did.

The first thing he felt was cold, seeping into his skin. His body was heavy, his limbs unresponsive. He blinked slowly, disoriented, his vision blurred. The ceiling above him was sterile, white, unfamiliar.

He was alive.

His mind raced, trying to piece together what had happened. The fight with Sukuna, the slash that had torn him in two—it all came rushing back in jagged fragments.

His gaze shifted to the side, and he saw Shoko, her face pale and drawn. She looked exhausted, her hands still gloved in blood—his blood.

Gojo tried to move, but his body refused to respond. Pain shot through his torso, a deep, visceral ache that made him gasp. He looked down and saw it—the ugly, jagged line of stitches that ran across his abdomen, holding his body together like some grotesque patchwork.

The strongest had been reduced to this. Broken. Weak.

“Wha… what…?” His voice came out a rasp, barely audible.

Shoko moved quickly, placing a hand on his shoulder to stop him from sitting up. “Gojo,” Shoko’s voice was soft, careful, as if afraid to break the fragile silence. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Gojo’s head spun. He had been cut in half, and yet here he was, alive. But barely. His hand instinctively moved to the stitches, fingers trembling as they traced the line of destruction that had torn him apart.

This was real. This was his body, broken and sewn back together like a ragdoll. The weight of it crashed down on him, the reality of what had happened. He wasn’t invincible. He had been so close to death.

But as he looked down at the stitches, at the blood that coated her hands and his own, the weight of the situation finally hit him.

He had died.

Sukuna had killed him. He had been cut in half, and the fact that he was still alive was nothing short of a miracle. But what kind of life was this? What kind of man was he now, stitched together like some broken doll?

He remembered everything—the fight with Sukuna, the agonizing moment when the world seemed to split apart, and the sudden, searing pain as his body was torn in half.

Yet now, here he was. Alive. Whole.

Shoko sat beside him, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. "You were lucky, you know. We almost lost you."

He smirked weakly, the cocky glint that usually colored his tone absent. "You know me, Shoko. I don’t go down that easily."

She rolled her eyes but didn’t respond, her gaze heavy with something that made him uncomfortable. There was more to this than the simple act of saving him. The air between them was charged with unsaid things, but before he could probe further, he felt it—a gnawing sense of something.

It was subtle at first. An absence he couldn’t quite place, like the feeling of a word on the tip of your tongue that refuses to come out. He frowned, searching his memory for an answer. His battle with Sukuna had been devastating, but his mind remained sharp, recalling every detail—the searing pain, the world going dark.

But there was something else.

Shoko looked at him carefully, as if debating how much to say. “You know me. I did what I could with the healing, but...” she hesitated, something rare for her. "It wasn’t enough. You were... beyond saving, almost."

Gojo’s brow furrowed further. “But I’m still here.”

Shoko’s gaze softened, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Yeah. You are. Someone else helped. They made the difference.”

He raised an eyebrow, the beginnings of a grin pulling at his lips. “Ah, so we’ve got another hero on our hands, huh? Where are they? I’d like to say thanks.”

Shoko’s face tightened, her expression a mix of guilt and something unreadable. “You can’t.”

Gojo straightened, his usual casual demeanor slipping. “What do you mean? I’m still alive, Shoko. If someone helped bring me back, the least I can do is—"

“You don’t remember them.” Shoko’s words cut through his rambling, sharp and final.

For a brief moment, Gojo felt a strange weight in his chest, the kind that made it hard to breathe. Don’t remember them? How could he forget someone so important, someone who saved his life? His mind raced, trying to piece together the gap in his memory, but it was like hitting a wall, a blank space where someone should have been.

"Who?" Gojo’s voice was softer now, tinged with frustration. "Who was it?"

Shoko looked away, not meeting his gaze. “A student.”

He blinked, startled. “A student?” He tried to think, running through the faces of the students he taught and interacted with, but there was nothing. No face came to mind. No name. No technique. Just that feeling—that something was missing.

“Shoko.” His voice was steady but firm, the casual tone gone now. “What did they do to me?”

Her shoulders slumped, the weight of the truth settling heavily between them. “They used a cursed technique. One that could heal you—bring you back from the edge. But it came with a cost. For them.”

“What cost?”

“They erased themselves from your memory, Satoru.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the words hit him like a punch to the gut. “You don’t know them anymore. It’s like they never existed.”

The days had blurred into one another since the battle with Sukuna. Jujutsu High was slowly returning to its routine, though the echoes of that night still lingered. The academy’s halls were quieter than usual, with students and staff working tirelessly to rebuild and recover.

Gojo Satoru sat in a wheelchair, his body still healing from the near-fatal wound Sukuna had dealt him. Despite Shoko’s best efforts and the cursed techniques used to bring him back, his body hadn’t fully recovered. His legs still trembled with weakness, and walking—once so effortless—had become impossible for now. He hated it. Hated feeling vulnerable. But more than that, he hated the nagging sense of emptiness that followed him everywhere. It wasn’t just his body that felt broken.

It was his mind.

He spent most of his time by the window, watching the world outside with a mixture of restlessness and contemplation. The view from his room was a small comfort—a chance to observe the daily rhythm of the academy, even if he couldn’t actively participate.

It was a chilly afternoon when he first saw you again. You were in the courtyard, engaged in a seemingly mundane task—something simple, like helping one of the younger students with their gear or offering a comforting word. He was about to turn away when a sudden commotion caught his eye.

A surge of cursed energy erupted from the corner of the courtyard, sending a shockwave that knocked several students to the ground. Gojo’s heart skipped a beat, his instinct to jump into action kicking in despite his incapacitation. He saw a curse—a grotesque, twisted figure—emerging from the shadows, its eyes glowing with malicious intent.

Panic spread quickly among the students, but you moved with a determined calmness, your focus solely on the curse. Your presence, though initially unnoticed, became the eye of the storm. You approached the cursewith a steady stride, your hands glowing with a familiar cursed energy.

Gojo’s breath caught in his throat. The way you moved, the way you channeled your cursed energy—it was unmistakable. Even from a distance, he could see it clearly. The technique you used, the precision and control, were too familiar to ignore.

It hit him like a freight train. You were the student who saved him.

His eyes widened as he watched you act swiftly and decisively, saving the young student who had been caught in the curse's attack. You moved with a grace and authority that belied your usual demeanor. With a powerful surge of cursed energy, you dispatched the curse in a blaze of light, your movements fluid and controlled. The air seemed to hum with your energy, a stark contrast to the chaos that had preceded it.

As the last remnants of the curse vanished, you turned to the injured student, your hands hovering over them with a soft, healing glow. Gojo’s heart pounded as he took in the sight. The way you worked so effortlessly, the way you seemed to be in your element—it was clear now. You were the one who had sacrificed so much to save him.

Once the threat was neutralized and the injured student was safely taken care of, you made your way back towards the infirmary, unaware of the eyes watching you from the window above. You were lost in your thoughts, the familiar weight of your burden heavy on your shoulders.

Gojo couldn’t stay in his wheelchair any longer. With great effort, he pushed himself up and made his way to the door, determined to confront you. His legs still wobbled, and every step was painful, but his resolve was unwavering.

Shoko, who had been monitoring his condition, saw him struggle and hurried over. “Satoru, what are you doing? You’re supposed to rest.”

“I need to see her,” Gojo said firmly, his voice strained but resolute. “I need to talk to her.”

Shoko hesitated, her eyes flickering with concern. But she saw the determination in his eyes and relented, guiding him carefully out of the infirmary.

You were just passing by, heading towards the staff room to report the incident, when you heard the sound of the infirmary door creaking open. You looked up to see Shoko pushing Gojo’s wheelchair, his expression a mix of pain and determination. Your heart skipped a beat, the reality of your situation crashing over you once more.

Gojo’s eyes locked onto you, and there was something intense, almost searching, in his gaze. He called out, his voice carrying a weight that made you stop in your tracks.

You turned slowly, your expression a mixture of apprehension and resignation. “Gojo-sensei.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving you. “You’re the one who saved me. Aren’t you?”

You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady. “I am.”

There was a long silence as Gojo studied you, his eyes searching your face as if trying to reconcile the pieces of a puzzle. “I’ve been trying to remember. There was something missing—something important. And I think I finally understand.”

You felt your heart ache at his words, the weight of your sacrifice pressing down on you. “Gojo-sensei...”

“I remember your presence,” he said slowly, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and relief. “I remember the energy you used. It was... different. It felt like a part of me was... reconnected.”

Shoko watched from the side, her expression a mix of sympathy and concern. She knew how painful this revelation would be for both of you.

Gojo continued, his gaze softening. “I don’t know everything. I don’t remember your face, your name, but I can’t forget the feeling you left behind. It’s like a shadow in my mind that won’t go away.”

You took a shaky breath, tears welling in your eyes. “It was my choice, Gojo-sensei.”

His eyes widened, understanding dawning on him. “You did that for me?”

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze. “It was the only way. I couldn’t let you carry the burden of knowing who I was, of what I did. It was too much.”

Gojo’s expression softened, a mixture of gratitude and sorrow in his eyes. “I don’t know why you did it, but I want to thank you. For everything.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks, your voice trembling. “You don’t need to thank me. I did what I had to do.”

There was another long silence, filled with unspoken emotions. Gojo’s gaze remained steady, a silent acknowledgment of the pain and sacrifice you had endured.

Shoko cleared her throat gently. “Maybe now is not the time for more discussion. Gojo, you should rest, and you, you need to take care of yourself, too.”

Gojo nodded reluctantly, though his eyes never left you. “We’ll talk more later. When you’re ready.”

You managed a small, sad smile, nodding in return. “Yes, Gojo-sensei. Whenever we're ready.”

As Shoko wheeled Gojo back towards the infirmary, you watched them go, your heart heavy with the knowledge that your sacrifice maybe had not been in vain. Gojo may not remember everything, but he remembered enough.

And for now, that was enough.

©apollogeticx ⋆ all rights reserved.

Not fulfilling meals

Summary: As the days go on, the Gojo estate remains cold, as you and Satoru didn't really talk to each other. Would your arranged marriage ever be bearable? Well, Gojo wants to try.

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 2980 words

Part 1 Masterlist

Author's note:

Well I guess this is my 100 followers special?? Like you guys are so sweet, how did I deserve your kind comments?? I hope you like this part too <3 (This will be a slow burn, I'm sorryyy :'), if you want to be added to the taglist, just say so it's no problem <3 your comments make my day :))

The jujutsu world was Gojo Satoru's world.

He knew, he was the strongest. He knew, he destroyed the balance of the jujutsu world just by being born. He knew, it was expected of him to keep this power in the hands of the Gojo clan.

He knew, he should marry and get an heir. An heir, who would be even stronger than him.

But he was selfish. Wanted to live his life, without a timer that says when he should have a kid.

He wanted to have control of his life. And if that was so selfish, well then he would gladly be it.

That's what he always thought. But right now, as he didn't see you for the third day in a row, he felt guilty.

Guilty, because he didn't really dislike you. Hell, he didn't even know you. He disliked that you two had to marry. Hated, that it wasn't his choice.

The last days were colder than usual. He felt your presence in this house and that you avoided him like the plague. Everytime he sat down at the table in the living room to eat, he would hear the words you threw at him.

He should be glad. You said, you wouldn't bother him and you kept your word. You didn't even come out of your room when he was around.

So why did he hate it?

He sat at the table in the living room with his breakfast. And he waited. Waited, even though he had to do missions. Waited, even though his brain was telling him to leave.

He waited.

'SO EXCUSE ME. IF I THINK MY HUSBAND DOESN'T WANT TO SEE ME AT ALL!'

His phone rang and a message from Suguru popped up.

"Where are you, Satoru?"

Satoru should stand up an leave. Should eat and leave. But his consciousness didn't want him to leave. His phone rang again. Should he leave or stay?

He waited.

'AND IF I DON'T WANT TO HAVE MYSELF SUFFER THROUGH IT!'

His empty plate looked at him. His own reflection raising an eyebrow at his behavior.

He stood up. Slowly he moved to your door. Looked at the closed door and wondererd if he should knock. Just ask you to eat with him.

'I DON'T WANT-'

He turned around and went to his missions, like he was supposed to. Like his senses told him.

~

Your room was so cold. Even when you hid under your supposedly warm covers, you started to shiver at the thought that you will always sleep here.

You were scared.

Gojo was longer and longer in the living room, every morning he made himself ready to leave. And today morning he was in front of your room.

You were so scared of the conflict with him.

Not that you felt guilty, you didn't feel sorry for what you said or anything like that. But the overwhelming fear that he would tell his clan members about the issues in your marriage would mean your doom.

Today was a meeting with your mother and the higher ups.

Your mother made clear that the meetings will be on a regularly basis in the letter. And she hoped that 'you could deliver good news'.

She meant deliver a kid.

No, your blanket didn't keep you warm. And it didn't protect you from all evil like your child self foolishly thought.

~

"You are late." As Satoru's best friend looked at him, he almost looked concerned.

"Sorry, slept in a bit." Satoru didn't look him in the eyes. "Where is the mission?"

Suguru inspected him a bit and then waved his hand. "Don't bother, I will do it today. You can rest today."

Satoru laughed a bit, but was confused when Suguru didn't laugh with him. "Wait, you mean that?"

"Yeah, Satoru." Suguru sighed. "You look like you need a break. And maybe," Suguru's voice grew a bit softer.

"You could talk to her about it, instead of working yourself dead."

Satoru scoffed as he looked to the side. "She doesn't want to see me. Like ever."

The following silence spoke loudly. And Satoru knew that it was his own fault.

But what was he supposed to do now? What did you want from him? How should he know, when you two didn't talk? How?

"Just go home Satoru."

~

"Don't raise your head to high. Just because you are married to Gojo, doesn't mean you will get the same treatment." Your mother pressed her lips together disapprovingly.

"Yes, mother."

She nodded and sighed as you waited for the other Clan members and higher ups to show up.

Your hands were shaking so you kept them hidden in your lap trying to gain the control other them again. But your anxiety grew by every second.

You weren't made for this pressure, this life. You weren't made for being the wife of the strongest.

You felt weak.

"They are here." A servant announced and your heart felt like it exploded.

"Good. Let them in." Your mother spoke calm and collected, like the power of the jujutsu society wasn't in her house. How did she become so untouchable?

As the door opened, you could feel the atmosphere becoming more sharp.

The higher ups were old. But that just made them more menacing for you. Those people were always just some force that would control your purpose, to you.

Now that force stood before you.

You looked down at your hands and you could feel their stares. Your hands were sweating madly as you began holding your breath.

You felt so small.

Gojo would keep his head up. He wouldn't fall into himself, he wouldn't care about their stares. Why couldn't you be like that?

Because you weren't born like him.

"Mrs. Gojo." The voice of an eldery woman. "How did you sleep tonight?"

What did they want from you? Why were you his wife, for God's sake? Why did you have to be a girl? Why, why, why?

"I slept well, thank you." You tried everything to keep your voice steady in front of them. Just try to not look so weak, okay?

"So can we asume an heir is on the way?"

"What?" Too surprised, you raised your head forgetting your mother's words.

And that made the stares just worse. The eyes were piercing you.

"You didn't sleep with him?" An old man looked disapprovingly at you. A man you didn't know.

He looked at your mother. "I thought we made it clear, that the heir was top priority!"

Your mother's eyes were boring into your head. "You did, and she knows that. I hope she knows her duties as his wife."

She didn't even talk to you. "I know." you looked down again. "We just didn't have the time to get to know each other-"

"What does that matter?" The eldery woman from the beginning sounded annoyed. "Knowing each other wasn't really your duty."

Your vision started to get blurry. Why?

"Well you at least talked about the honeymoon, right? Then you have time for your duties." You didn't know if your mother was trying to help you, or was trying to help the higher ups.

"No, we didn't really-"

"FOR GOD'S SAKE, FOR WHAT DID YOU THEN HAVE TIME?" The man was yelling now. "WE GAVE YOU FOUR DAYS! WHAT WERE YOU DOING?"

It was difficult to breathe. Your mouth was hard to open and dry. Your neck was feeling sore, because of the looking down. Your eyes were...

Why did you even show up to the meeting?

Gojo wouldn't have bowed to their will. He would stand up. But you can't.

You just can look down.

"This will be more work than we hoped." You didn't try to differentiate their voices anymore.

"You have a lot to learn about how things work here." You felt like being pushed down onto the ground.

"Mrs. Gojo."

~

Satoru was feeling sick. You were nowhere to be found and he knew nothing about anything. The Servants couldn't tell him anything either.

First he thought you just needed a bit time for yourself and went for a walk or something.

That's what he thought ten hours ago.

Before he spend the whole day with megumi and tsumiki. Before he came home at 8 pm and you were still not home.

Was this it? Did you hate him this much, you would just leave?

Maybe he really fucked up that bad.

And as he was pacing up and down in the living room, dinner still untouched on the table, he felt terrible.

He didn't feel bad, when he skipped the meetings. No, he felt bad after he saw who he was hurting.

He was an asshole.

Why did you have to remind him of that? Suguru was doing that enough already. But when you did it, it stung much more and he didn't know why.

"Mr. Gojo?"

He flinched as he heard the voice of the little girl. Another reminder of you. The servant girl who was named Hina. Which he didn't know.

"Yes?"

"The food is cold. Should we make it hot again?"

Oh. The food.

As he looked at the planned dinner he felt sorry for making her work again. And you also had to eat today.

"Wait. My wife isn't home yet, we will wait for her."

The girl blinked two times before slowly nodding. "If you wish so." With that she took the food with her to the kitchen.

Satoru didn't know what to do. You were such a mystery to him, would you really go as far as just leaving and never coming back?

He didn't know. Satoru stood there in the living room clueless. Didn't know if his wife would just run away or not. Ironic, isn't it?

Where were you? What should he do?

'SO EXCUSE ME. IF I THINK MY HUSBAND DOESN'T WANT TO SEE ME AT ALL!'

He sat down. And he waited.

~

You were tired. So, so tired.

The meeting was long. Countless yelling and accusations at you. Tips for in bed and advice how to convince him to sleep with you.

You felt sick.

Sick, because they want to hear from you weekly, how your 'sex life' with Gojo is going. All these old people obsessed with making a new prodigy for their schemes.

"You are replaceable." They told you. "We can find a new wife to get an heir."

"So stop, resisting."

"Do it for your Clan."

These people weren't right in the head. They were truly sick.

And as all these faces left, normal breathing was allowed. Your heart was working overtime all these hours and you felt dizzy.

"Why are you still here? Go home and start fufilling your duties."

Your mother still sat next to you, angry and stone cold.

"I don't know him." your voice was shaking. "I can't-"

"I didn't know your father too." Her voice was sharp. "Still I had priorities. And those should be your Clan."

Her body seemed like a statue. Unshakable.

"Mother, I don't think he wants-"

"NONSENSE!"

Her sudden yelling made you flinch. She took a breath and then spoke in her unshakable voice again.

"He is a man. They always want. And one day he will just take."

She stood up. She didn't seem unshakable anymore. No, she was more unreachable, it wouldn't matter what you said.

"Your car is ready to leave." That were her last words before she left.

You were always left alone.

~

As you took the final steps to the Gojo estate, you felt tired like never before. Only now you realized that you haven't eaten since breakfast.

You hoped Hina didn't worry to much and they had something ready. You just wanted to eat and sleep.

'Maybe I won't sleep so badly tonight,' you thought as you rang the door bell. 'Since I can't even stand properly, from all the sitting. And I should get my own key, since'

The door in front of you swung open with force and blue eyes were locked in yours.

"Where-"

He stopped himself as he looked at you. There was something in his look that you couldn't put your finger on.

"Are you okay?"

His look was becoming unbearable for you, so you looked down.

"Yeah."

He just nodded and let you in. You hesitated before going in, not knowing what to do in his presence.

As you looked around, you noticed the empty dinner table. But what really caught your eye was that his plate was clean and not even touched.

"Hina," He remembered her name? You thought he would never... "We can eat now."

We?

"Or have you eaten already?"

You didn't dare look at him. What was all this about? Why was he even talking to you?

"No." you cleared your dry throat. "I haven't eaten already."

He hummed and ordered Hina and the other chefs to warm up dinner.

Hesitant, you sat down at the other side of the big table. Awkwardly you looked around, feeling out of place, because of the sudden attention.

"Why are you already home? You worked longer the last days. You weren't here before 11 pm." Finally you found your voice.

Gojo looked at you and firstly didn't say anything. Then he looked away and cleared his throat. "I... Just had no missions today. So I came home early."

"Oh."

Hina showed up like a savoir for this conversation and brought dinner.

But she brought for two persons.

"You haven't eaten already?" you looked down at your plate, trying to eat normally but your position was so stiff it wasn't easy.

"No, i-" he stopped in his sentence and looked down at his plate. "I wasn't really hungry till now."

You just nodded, while trying to eat as quiet as possible. The silence between you was palpable. The only sond was the slicing of the knives.

You tried to keep yourself steady. You really shouldn't eat too fast or he would think you were running. Which you technically were, but he didn't have to know it.

"Where," Gojo tried to sound casual. "Where were you?"

You stopped eating and thought about what you should say. He shouldn't know about the meetings. Shouldn't know that you were 'trained' to be his duties fulfilling wife.

"I visited my mother." Technically not a lie. "She wants to meet me regularly."

He nodded and continued eating. Looked like he was satisfied. He shouldn't think you were unfaithful or anything like that.

"Do you have a good relationship with her?"

Your eyes widened and you looked up to really look him in the eyes. Those beautiful eyes.

"Good enough." your voice was barely a whisper. But he nodded like he was listening carefully to everything you said.

"Should I come with you some time?" he leaned a bit back in his seat. "Or do you think she doesn't want to see me?"

As you thought about all the times your mother ranted about Gojo because of his irresponsibility, you couldn't help but chuckle. "I don't think so."

His position stiffed a bit. "Why do you think so?"

"She thinks you are careless." Your voice was growing cold. "Because the meetings you missed, Gojo."

"Oh. Yeah right." He looked down again and mumbled something incoherently.

You didn't ask what he said.

The silence between you came back as you finished your meal. And as you were finished, you stood up taking your now empty plate with you.

"I will bring that in the kitchen." You could finally turn away from him and his eyes. "Good night."

You didn't really expect an answer. But Gojo seemed to like to surprise you.

"Good night, sleep well. You look exhausted, try to rest now."

Your traitor of a heart started to pound louder, like you were in a bad romance novel. Your mind told it to shut up, while you walked out of the reach of his eyes and presence into the kitchen.

You walked to Hina and handed her your plate with a smile, while telling yourself to breathe normally.

"Thank you, dear, it tasted fantastic."

The girl smiled back at you. "Happy to hear that, Mrs. Gojo. We were also happy to see you two eating together."

"Oh well," you waved her statement away. "It won't happen again I think. Was just a coincidence."

The girl in front of you looked confused and shook her head. "No, Mr. Gojo specifically ordered to wait for you to eat dinner. His food was ready 2 hours ago."

You couldn't help but blink at her. He waited for you?

A tiny little hopeful thought slid into your head, speaking quietly but still steady.

Maybe-

~~

It was already later than usual as Satoru sat in the living room. His breakfast still untouched he fought with himself.

Your door was still closed.

No, one evening couldn't open a locked door so easily. And as he stared at your empty seat he wondered. Why was this table even that big?

He should change that.

Did you always wait for him to leave before you ate?

Weren't you hungry?

'I DON'T WANT TO HAVE MYSELF SUFFER THROUGH IT!'

His phone rang as a new message popped up. It was from Suguru.

'Are you still home, Satoru?'

He stood up. This was dumb. He was acting dumb.

He knocked at your door. "Are you coming for breakfast?"

~

Maybe Satoru wasn't all bad.

Taglist:

@zoeyflower @bubera974 @ssetsuka @lady-of-blossoms @peqch-pie

@karlaolea @slut-for-fictional-men @tnt-kokoo @gojoscumslut @sillyfreakfanparty

@tbzzluvr

@emi311 @the-number7 @o-ikawaii @doodle-cat16 @yozora7154

@levisfavoriteteashop @roscpctals99 @starlightglimmersworld @manyuyuu

004 | WAS IT REAL?

tags: trueform!sukuna x fem!reader, ANGST, mind games, fluff (kinda), they’re both in love with each other but sukuna is stubborn, still don’t know what else to add

w.c: about 2k (sorry its lowkey short)

a/n: THANK U GUYS FOR SUPPORTING MEEE IM SO THANKFULLLL 🫶🏽🫶🏽 just finished my assignments so I had to post this (sorry it’s late)🙂‍↕️

+ likes and reblogs are appreciated !!

the room is filled with a suffocating silence as you lie propped against the intricately carved headboard, your legs sprawled across the bed. toji is between your thighs, hiding your lower body from sukuna’s intense gaze as he stands in the doorway. your body is on fire, not just from sukuna’s sudden appearance but from the intense orgasm you itching to release but now cruelly interrupted.

sukuna’s patience seems to be wearing thin. each beat of your heart echoes in the quiet room, a reminder that today might be the end for both you and toji. after a long pause, toji decided to pay attention to sukuna as he huffs at the fact he had to cut his time short with you. he couldn’t eat you out without you pleading another man’s name. toji rises from between your thighs, his expression a mix of defiance and amusement as he kneels, leaving you breathless and wide-eyed.

does he really want to have sex in front of sukuna? has he lost his mind?

toji’s chuckle is almost as unsettling as sukuna’s silence. he begins to undress, his black haori slipping off his shoulders to reveal a finely sculpted torso, gleaming under the dim light. the sweat on his muscles makes his physique even more enticing.

“calm y’erself,” toji coos, draping his haori over you as a shield against sukuna’s piercing gaze. “we wouldn’t want our fearsome king to see what’s mine, would we?”

sukuna still remains eerily quiet, his stillness more frightening than any of his previous outbursts. your heart swells at toji’s protective gesture, though the dread of sukuna’s silence weighs heavily on you. you and toji now lie side by side, leaning against the headboard, facing the imposing figure of sukuna.

“if you wanted to join us, ryo, you could’ve just asked,” toji teases, his tone light but laced with mockery. sukuna crosses all four of his arms, his biceps straining against his custom made kimono. his face remains a mask of indifference, amplifying the fear that his silence breeds.

the room falls back into an oppressive quiet, broken only by your rapid, uneven breathing. sukuna’s calm demeanour is far scarier than any display of anger could be. you long for him to shout or act out—absolutely anything but his silence.

then, unexpectedly, sukuna bursts into… laughter? the sound is a dark, guttural roar that shatters the silence, his mirthless humour echoing through the room. you exchange confused glances with toji, both of you bewildered by this bizarre reaction. sukuna’s laughter continues as he clutches the wooden frame of the bed for support, hysterically laughing as your heart beats faster.

his four arms clapping in a mocking applause. his cruel amusement makes you feel small, as if you’re the butt of a cruel joke that’s neither funny nor forgivable.

“ah, you truly are naive; it’s fascinating,” sukuna purrs, his voice dripping with venom as he approaches you. the unsettling praise only deepens your confusion. as you try to seek solace from toji, sukuna’s grip on your chin forces you to meet his gaze. he crouches to your level, his four red glowing eyes boring into yours as he lightly pets your head, playing with your hair in a disturbingly tender way.

“k-kuna, i’m sorry,” you stammer, your voice trembling with fear. the way he addresses you, with an almost soft expression, sends shivers down your spine. “how can a single mortal be so weak and foolish that i find myself feeling sorry for you?” he says, his words cutting deep. tears start to form, blurring your vision.

as you struggle to process his words, you realize the room’s silence grew louder. you glance to the space beside you and find that toji has vanished. panic surges through you, your breath quickening as sukuna’s dark chuckle echoes with your growing horror.

wait.

in that moment it feels as though you’ve plunged into the abyss, your entire being sinking deeper and deeper, your soul being wrenched away by an unseen force.

you open your eyes, gasping for air, and look around. the dinner?

confusion grips you as you see everyone absorbed in their meals, lost in conversation. you glance at your hands, pinching yourself and wincing at the sting, painfully aware that this is no dream.

was i daydreaming about toji? 

did sukuna ever speak to me in his room? 

your mind spins, unable to distinguish between dream and reality. you look up from where you were standing, behind toji, and meet sukuna’s gaze. his smirk is predatory, and you feel as if you’re being consumed by a dark, suffocating force.

there’s no way.

no.

sukuna’s smile stretches wider as he nods, a knowing, almost sadistic gleam in his eyes. your blood runs cold.

he’s the mastermind. he planted every disturbing thought in your head—the moments with toji, the intimate scenes, the claims of possession—all illusions, all his cruel manipulation.

he wanted to break you, to see how easily he could worm his way into your psyche, how far he could push you before you shattered, and he’s just getting started. his amusement at your torment was his twisted pleasure during dinner, with no one else to entertain him. not even yorozu, seated beside him, could distract him. but watching you, standing behind toji, your gaze almost eye fucking toji was all it took for sukuna to unleash his dark games.

you feel the heat rising in your body, and the clothes you’re wearing suddenly feel stifling. overwhelmed by embarrassment, you storm out of the dining hall, desperately trying to steady your breath as you walk down the hallway.

tears well up in your eyes as you grapple with the realization that you’re nothing more than a pawn in his twisted game, his mind games manipulating you at will.

you truly are naive it’s fascinating,

his words echo in your mind, a haunting that drives you mad. as you turn a corner, you use your hands to dab at your eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay. suddenly, you freeze when you spot sukuna standing right in the middle of the hallway, his presence making you jump.

“did you enjoy that dirty little fantasy?” he purrs, his tone dripping with amusement as he grips your arm, forcing you to listen to his taunting. “quite nasty of you to have those thoughts during dinner,” he teases, his face twisting into a mock-disgusted expression.

“are you in love with me?” you blurt out shakily, avoiding his gaze as you try to hold back your tears. sukuna looks taken aback by your blunt question, his eyes widening in surprise.

“how dare you ask me such a foolish question. have you bumped your head on the way here?” he retorts, his tone a mix of aggression and confusion. you wince slightly as he tightens his grip on your arm.

“you’re with yorozu, but you’ve got me on your mind. you’re afraid of love, so you’re content to love me from a distance,” you assert, watching as sukuna’s face goes from offended to intrigued. he loosens his grip on your arm, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“I see what this is about,” he says, stepping closer and backing you against the wall, his enormous frame towering over you. the sheer height and intensity of his presence are overwhelming, and as he presses you against the wall as one of his large hand grips your jaw, you can barely breathe.

“you’re jealous that I’m with her and not you, aren’t you? do you wish you were in her place?”

“you’re avoiding my question—you plant these thoughts in my head so I can never be with anyone else but you,” you accuse, noticing the twitch of one of his lower eyes as both your breathings become shallow. sukuna’s face inches closer to yours, his intense eye contact and touch almost making you whimper. his lips are so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your face.

you tentatively reach up, running your fingers through his soft, pink hair. as you do, sukuna’s eyes flutter closed, a deep purr escaping his lips. he leans into your touch, his face drawing ever closer to yours, almost as if he’s going to kiss you. the sensation of his hair beneath your fingers and the closeness of his face send shivers through you, and for a moment, you realize that the king of curses is wrapped around your finger, caught in a vulnerable moment of your doing.

but then, sukuna snaps back to reality. his red eyes narrow with fury as he realizes how close he came to fully surrendering to your touch. his anger flares, and he pins both your hands above your head, slamming them against the wall with such force that you’re acutely aware of how tall and imposing he is.

“I could replace you with a snap of my fingers—you mean nothing to me,” he growls, his words slicing through you like a dagger.

“then do it,” you challenge, meeting his fiery eyes with your own defiant glare. sukuna’s eyes glint with a mix of surprise and admiration at your boldness.

“tsk, what happened to your timid behaviour?” he taunts, his grip on your arms tightening with each word. you remain silent, questioning your own sudden courage. sukuna’s grip begins to loosen as you drop your gaze in defeat, and with a frustrated storming off, he leaves you standing there, feeling both defeated.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

night falls as you and the other servants finish cleaning up the dishes and sweeping the kitchen after the guests have left. having completed your duties, you inform everyone you’re done for the day, and they bid you goodnight. as you walk down the familiar hallway, you glance up to see one of the balcony doors upstairs standing wide open. concerned that one of the servants or maids might have left it open, you quickly take a detour in the direction of the servant quarters and towards the staircase.

when you reach the balcony doors, you peek through and see a tall figure standing outside, enjoying the cool breeze and gazing up at the stars.

“toj’?” you call out, and he turns to look at you, a hint of confusion crossing his face at the nickname you’ve used.

“did you call me toj’ because the thoughts he placed in your head” he asks with a smirk, clearly having overheard your earlier conversation with sukuna. realizing that you and toji had never interacted before, you stammer an apology. he chuckles, reassuring you that it’s okay.

“how much did you hear?” you ask, closing the balcony doors behind you to give you both some privacy as you step further onto the balcony.

“everything.”

oh.

“well—”

“do you love him?” he asks bluntly, his gaze still on the stars as the question hangs between you. his sudden honesty makes you pause, staring at the night sky with him, the moonlight casting a serene glow over the garden below.

“w-when i first met him, i did. he even wanted me for himself,” you admit, watching as toji nods. “but now he tortures me—playing mind games and flaunting that other woman.”

a silence falls between you as you both take in the peaceful night. the stars twinkle brightly, and the moon hangs low, its light reflecting softly off the surrounding trees. you and toji stand there for a while, breathing in the fresh air, letting the moment stretch out, a quiet respite from the chaos of your thoughts.

“i’ve heard enough—how about you serve me and my clan?” toji finally says, breaking the silence. his bluntness catches you off guard, and you turn to him, wide-eyed.

“do you really think he’d let me leave to serve another clan—”

“when my stay is over, come with me. we’ll take you in as part of our family and treat you properly,” he offers, and the idea sounds tempting. you fidget with your fingers, considering his proposal.

“but if you prefer to stay in this hellhole, that’s up to you—”

“i’ll come with you,” you say decisively. toji’s smile widens, his scar stretching as he looks at you approvingly.

“don’t worry your pretty head about how you’re getting with me, I already know a plan.” 

Part 1: A Rainy Day

Summary: Namjoon is on holiday with his girlfriend - and without Namjoon, all hell breaks loose.

Pairing: OT7 x OC (different OCs)

Genre: Humour, fluff, angst, chaos

Word count: 6.9 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language

A/N: I can't believe we're finally here! This fic has been in mind for so long, slowly evolving from a concept with a soundtrack to a whole outline and now to a complete half of a fic! Everything from the song to the situation to the leap that most of the characters will take feel like a milestone, so here's hoping it's a good one *insert gatsby meme*

The teaser to this fic got a lot of reactions :D so to make it worth the anticipation, this will be split into two parts. It is set a week or so after Dinner at the Kangs'. Enjoy!

Tagging: @bbl32@quarter-life-crisis2@dreaming-with-happiness@faearchives@margopinkerton@purpleseoul7@confessionsofamarshlily @jiminjhang @xjoonchildx @tarahardcore @infinitehobi @handfullofcandids @whoisbts @kflixnet (drop a message if you want to be added)

Listen to: “bittersweet symphony" by the verve

teaser | main masterlist

November in Seoul rolls around unexpectedly soon and occupies its usual position: a harbinger of the cold and white winter months, making the heat and humidity of summer a distant memory.

With BTS’s world tour officially at an end, followed by its normal uptick in concert clips and dance challenges floating around the internet while the company celebrates amidst figurative piles of cash, the members finally have the luxury of a few weeks off work where seeing them off stage and in casuals is the new novelty.

This includes Namjoon as well. After a tumultuous year of heartbreak and pain and longing, along with the real and genuine fear that he may have to give up the girl of his dreams due to extenuating circumstances, he and Kaya mutually decide that they need time away to reconnect with each other. Leaving behind their homes in Seoul and Amsterdam respectively, they reunite at Auckland Airport from where they take a cab in relative anonymity to begin their vacation.

With Namjoon gone, the company automatically takes it easy on the group as well. With Namjoon gone, the members manage to relax, able to keep an additional distance between them and the company before work inevitably starts again and the nomadic life of sleepless nights, dance practices and event appearances resurface.

Perhaps they underestimate their leader’s role in their lives, or it simply does not occur to them just how dependent they all are on each other after a decade of working, living and breathing in synchronicity. Namjoon is only gone for three weeks in total - but with Namjoon gone, all hell breaks loose.

With Namjoon gone, one member crosses a line.

With Namjoon gone, one member unintentionally makes a mess.

With Namjoon gone, one member makes a joke without realising its consequences.

With Namjoon gone, one member does something he’s ashamed of.

And with Namjoon gone, two members kiss someone they shouldn’t.

—

“Screen, food, lights - check.” Jimin tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as he frowns at his phone screen, eyes flitting between it and the writing pad he’s hastily scribbling on. “Need to pick up the champagne - oi, Jungkook, can you give me a ride to the liquor store? My car is getting serviced this weekend.”

“What about your Toyota?”

“It’s at my apartment. That’s farther than the liquor store.”

Jungkook pauses and looks up from the stove, across the kitchen island from Jimin. “Wait, the liquor store is in the building. Why do you need -”

“Not that liquor store,” interrupts Jimin patiently. “I need to go to the one in Gangnam, which has the tasting menu and assortments.”

“Why -“

“Because it’s Sooah’s birthday,” answers Taehyung from where he’s lying down on the sofa, scrolling through his phone and not bothering to look up. “Normal champagne won’t cut it. Not for Kim Sooah.”

Hoseok frowns, coming up from behind Jimin and peering at the writing pad. “Why not? Wait - why do you need professional lighting and sound equipment?” he asks, reading from it. “And food from Golden Pig? I thought the lunch was at MOBO Bar. Hang on -“ He looks bewildered. “Isn’t her birthday tomorrow?”

“The lunch tomorrow is for all her friends,” supplies Jungkook, pouring a steaming pot of cooked ramen into a bowl. “Tonight is just hyung and Sooah.”

“Yes, and don’t anyone be late tomorrow.” Jimin reminds them in a business-like tone, continuing to check things on his phone and tick them off. “I know you guys have to film a thing tomorrow morning, but make sure you come straight there. And, seriously - can anyone drive me to the liquor store or not?”

“I have a Zoom meeting starting in five minutes,” says Hoseok, clapping him on the back, “or I totally would. What about Yoongi?”

“He’s not here. He left for a meeting in Incheon this morning,” chimes in Jungkook again. “Won’t be back until later.”

“How much later -” Hoseok starts to ask, but is cut off by Jimin huffing.

“So no one can take me to the liquor store?” he demands. “Which is, like, twenty minutes away? I wish Namjoon hyung were here,” he adds sullenly, shaking his head. “He would’ve driven me.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” says Hoseok indulgently. “Taehyung, you can take him. Your car has a ton of extra space, too.”

“I’m busy,” answers Taehyung listlessly, still on his phone. When no one responds, he looks up to see all the other three staring at him. “Fine, I guess I could,” he agrees with a huge sigh, clambering off the sofa and trudging to the dining table, sliding into the seat adjacent to Jimin’s.

Jimin narrows his eyes. “It’s not such a big deal, you know. You can just give me your keys if you want.”

“Yeah, why are you in such a mood today, anyway?” Hoseok asks, his hands on the back of Jimin’s chair.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles, running his hands over his unwashed face. “I’m just…” He shakes his head and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Hungry, I guess.”

“Hungry?”

“That’s code for horny,” says Jimin, raising his eyebrows nonchalantly when Taehyung looks up to glare at him, but doesn’t disagree.

Hoseok snorts as Jungkook joins them with his ramen, silently sitting across from Taehyung. “That must be some dry spell if you can’t help out your buddy,” he says, a bit pointedly.

Taehyung observes Jimin for a moment, then sighs. “You know what? You’re right. Let’s go to the liquor store. I’ll help you look for the best champagne out there - and since you’re not driving, you can try every single thing on the tasting menu,” he offers in a moment of generosity.

Jimin’s head snaps up from his phone. “Really?” When Taehyung nods, relief floods his cherubic face. “Thank God. Because I - I really need tonight to be absolutely perfect -”

“I know, I know,” interrupts Taehyung, clapping him on the shoulder and standing up. “I’ll just grab a quick shower and we’ll go. Jungkook,” he says, waiting for the younger member to look up in surprise. “Want to come along?”

Jungkook, who’s polished most of his bowl clean by now, looks up at him with wide eyes. “Me?”

“Yeah,” answers Taehyung evenly. “Why not?”

There’s a flicker of doubt in Jungkook’s eyes which he seems to partially blink away. “Yeah. Yeah, no, yeah - I mean - sure.” He scoops up a large bite of noodles with his chopsticks and inhales it. “Jus’ give me a minute,” he says through a mouthful of food.

Taehyung nods. “Ramen looks good,” he says after a moment. “Can I have a bite?”

Jungkook nods instantly and pushes the bowl across the table. Taehyung takes a bite, slurping the sauce until he’s swallowed the entire thing. “Delicious,” he says honestly, waiting just long enough to see Jungkook smile before turning around and heading into his room.

—

“This one’s fruity,” decides Jimin, smacking his lips and frowning seriously. He places the small glass down and picks up another, giving it a sniff and proceeding to take a sip. “But this one is definitely more bubbly.”

It takes a lot for a liquor store to provide a tasting menu for champagne, but for the correct price, it can be done. Taehyung isn’t entirely sure how much Jimin has paid for this particular round of testers but he gives his honest opinions, careful to keep his friend’s spirits high for today.

It hadn’t occurred to him back at the house, but it seems obvious now why Jimin is so anxious about tonight. If Taehyung’s hunch is correct, it’s because it’s Sooah’s first birthday since they’ve gotten back together after years of sniping and occasionally hooking up, and Jimin has taken on the pressure to make it perfect to the next level.

“I like this one.” Jungkook points to a bottle on the shelf. “We had it after the last concert, remember?”

Jimin looks up briefly and shakes his head. “Chandon is the last resort, if I find nothing better today. Come on, it’s Sooah’s birthday. Chandon is way too basic.”

Jungkook raises his eyebrows but says nothing, his eyes meeting Taehyung’s, who takes his hunch to be correct.

“I’m going to go see if there are any other bottles at the back,” says Taehyung, leaving Jimin to overthink the little glasses of bubbly liquid. He stops by one of the staff and leans in. “Can you bill a Chandon anyway?” he asks in a low voice. “Just in case?”

“Of course. Should I combine it with Mr Park’s other purchases?”

Taehyung shakes his head. “Put it on my tab.”

The staff nods and takes a bottle up to the register as Taehyung turns the corner to another shelf full of champagne, Jungkook a few steps behind him.

“That was nice,” he comments, hovering at the edge of the shelf.

“He deserves it,” mutters Taehyung, feeling slightly guilty about his standoffish behaviour at the dorm a little while ago. “Guy’s stressing way too much. I know Sooah will love whatever he’s planning. She’s chill that way.” He pauses. “What is he planning, anyway?”

“I mean, I don’t know all the details but I think it’s one of those movie screening things at the park.”

“In public? At the park? What - are they going to sit in the back and pour out champagne while everyone else is drinking cokes and beers?”

“What? No, he rented out the whole park,” explains Jungkook. “It’s just them, with a huge screen and seating and food - and champagne, I guess. He’s got professional sound equipment and heating and blankets and everything. He really went all out.”

Taehyung stares, a bit horrified but mostly impressed. “Wow. That actually sounds really romantic.”

“It does,” agrees Jungkook absently, peering at the label of a bottle where he’s still standing at the end of the aisle. “I just hope it goes well.”

“So do I. And I hope it doesn’t rain,” he points out. “It’s been drizzling every day and raining in parts of the city. It could really put a damper on the whole outdoor movie thing.”

“Yeah. Hopefully it won’t.”

“Hopefully.”

A slightly awkward silence falls over them. Taehyung glances over at him to see him pick up a bottle of whiskey from the opposite shelf. He turns the bottle over in his hands before looking at the price tag, letting out a low whistle and placing the bottle back.

“What about you?” When Jungkook looks up, Taehyung continues. “Any plans today?”

“Uh, not really.” He pauses. “I have a date, actually. Kind of.”

“Yeah? With the tattoo artist?” When he nods, Taehyung grins. “Nice. Why aren’t you more excited about it, though?”

Jungkook gives a noncommittal shrug. “I don’t know. I was thinking of blowing it off. Going to the gym, maybe. Namjoon hyung usually joins me on Fridays and we spot each other on the bench press but I guess I’ll have to go alone today. Unless you want to come along?” he asks hesitantly.

Taehyung had spent a couple of hours at the gym yesterday but he nods anyway. “I’d love to, but why are you avoiding your date?”

“I’m not avoiding it. I haven’t worked out in, like… three days.”

“So come back and work out.” Taehyung frowns. “I have nothing to do all day so I’ll be here whenever. You may want to go easier on the weights with me, though.”

Jungkook chuckles, sounding relieved. “Give yourself a little more credit than that, hyung.”

“Please. Namjoon broke the lock on my bedroom door with one hand the day he left when he was looking for a spare set of Airpods.” Taehyung shakes his head. “He’s a menace, and he just adds to it whenever he starts working out.”

Jungkook laughs. “We’re definitely less clumsy in the gym than he is, that’s for sure. Is seven pm good for you?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Dilara has been pestering me to give boxing a shot, so, you know. Tonight might be the night.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah, of course. That’s a good idea. I mean -” He shakes his head, as though getting rid of a fly. “It’s… it’s an idea.”

Taehyung is about to comment on this strange response but notices Jungkook gazing intently at the whiskey shelf again, his ears slightly red, and decides not to.

Ever since the Samsung event nearly a month ago, Jungkook has been almost walking on eggshells around Taehyung. Taehyung wishes he wouldn’t; that night had been awkward at best and contentious at worst, and had been entirely unexpected on various fronts. However, he and Dilara had awoken the next morning in an air of mutual forgiveness and shared an intimate couple of hours before breakfast, filled with silent apologies and hope.

Regarding Jungkook, Taehyung had had every intention of giving him the cold shoulder for a while, at least, still somewhat peeved at the sudden confrontation from his very non-confrontational friend. As it turned out, the moment they’d all reached Seoul and climbed out of their separate SUVs, Jungkook had cornered Taehyung outside their building and begun apologising profusely. 

That had taken him more off guard than their argument last night; Taehyung had tried to get a word in amidst the explanations but looking at how horrible Jungkook clearly felt, he hadn’t had the heart to give him any more grief about it. Somehow, the whole situation had ended with Taehyung comforting Jungkook, telling him to forget about it, that he understood he and Dilara were friends.

Jungkook had looked like he wanted to say something more but he’d shook his head instead, and they’d hugged until Dilara stepped out of her SUV. Jungkook had skirted around both of them for the next few days until Dilara had left Seoul, after which Taehyung had gently but categorically told Jungkook to chill out.

He isn’t sure if Jungkook has got the message yet. He thinks he has for the most part; they’ve hung out many times since then, for work, with other friends - but maybe the mention of Dilara has suddenly made him clam up again.

“Sir.” The same store staff who was ringing up the Chandon appears from behind the shelf. “Mr Park has picked out a Cristal that will be delivered to his residence shortly. Anything else I can help you with?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Taehyung starts to say as he and Jungkook begin moving towards the front of the store. As the younger member continues on his way, Taehyung stops. Retracing his steps, he picks up the bottle of whiskey that Jungkook had been examining.

“Can you add this to the Chandon?” he asks, waiting for the store staff to nod before he joins his friends.

—

Seokjin [12:30] Are you working late today?

Seulgi [12:33] Not sure. Why?

Seokjin [12:33] I’m on my way back from Annyeong now so I should be in Seoul in a couple of hours. Wanted to see if you maybe want to go out tonight?

Seulgi [12:36] It’s supposed to pour today. And doesn’t look likely with my calendar anyway.

Seulgi [12:37] But I’ll try, in case something opens up.

Seokjin doesn’t reach Seoul until almost three hours later. The long solo drive was a nice way to get some time to himself, especially with the mild anxiety that had started to creep up over the last couple of days, almost as though he was forgetting something. He would’ve spent a lot less time driving but the traffic was maddening; as per the radio, it was due to people driving in and out of the city for the weekend combined with rain warnings. 

He reaches the dorm to find it empty. Ordinarily, he would’ve gone back to his own apartment but something about being back in his childhood home for a week, along with Seulgi’s distant demeanour, makes him want to be around his friends for a little bit. 

As it turns out, none of them seem to be home at the moment but he knows they’re here: there’s a bowl in the sink with ramen sauce smeared on it; a Gucci hoodie he knows is Jimin’s is draped over the back of a chair; Taehyung’s bedroom door is slightly ajar, the bedcovers unmade and clearly slept in.

Seokjin sinks onto the sofa and lies down on it, closing his eyes and preparing for a nap. He has no plans for today whatsoever, especially if Seulgi doesn’t get back to him. He isn’t entirely surprised at her mood; ever since he’d ventured into the territory of him and Nari, she’d begun distancing herself from him. 

He couldn’t blame her; he had no idea what he was walking into with Nari and the fact that Seulgi had to stand by and wait for him to figure it out would have to rankle. He wasn’t fully surprised when, a couple of days after the fact, she confessed to Seokjin that it wouldn’t be the worst thing to take some time apart.

Sleep doesn’t come to him, not really. He dozes off at least half a dozen times without actually falling asleep, his mind constantly replaying the last few weeks, with that nagging sense of stress and anxiety a constant in his mind. Seokjin lazes around until he marks the attempt futile, just as the front door opens and Jimin strides in with his phone to his ear, followed by Taehyung and Jungkook trooping in behind him.

“Hey, hyung,” they chorus, Jungkook falling onto the sofa next to Seokjin. “When did you get back?”

“Just a little while ago.” Seokjin looks around at them, rubbing his eyes. “Are you guys also staying here this weekend?”

Before any of them can answer, one of the other bedroom doors opens and Hoseok steps out, stretching and yawning. “Hey, hyung. How was the champagne tasting?” he asks Jimin, who holds up a finger as he continues talking.

“Oi, Hobi, you’re here, too?” Seokjin frowns, bewildered. “Wait, have you been here this whole time?”

Hoseok nods and points noncommittally to his bedroom as he walks over to the dining table to peer into a bag that Taehyung has placed on it. “Ooh, Chandon. Is that the one he picked finally?”

“Jimin chose the Cristal,” says Jungkook. “And he’s getting it delivered.”

“He did and it is,” confirms Taehyung, and says no more.

Hoseok raises his eyebrows. “Okay. And what about the Jameson?”

“That’s for Jungkook.”

Hoseok just about catches Jungkook’s surprised look before Seokjin speaks again. “So - wait, I thought Jimin’s lunch was tomorrow.”

“Sooah’s, and yes,” says Jimin, getting off the phone and finally looking up, seeming a bit frazzled. “Tonight is just me and her. There was some kind of confusion with the food,” he says to Taehyung, who’s giving him a questioning look.

“Oh, hey, if Sooah is going to be with you tonight, does that mean Chaeyoung will be home alone?” Hoseok asks.

“I guess,” answers Jimin vaguely as his phone rings again. “Damn it, it’s the park coordinator again.”

“The park?” Seokjin raises his eyebrows sceptically as Jimin takes the call, and turns around to look out the nearest window. “It’s already drizzling. It’s supposed to pour tonight, you know?”

Hoseok shrugs, while Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Doesn’t matter. Jimin is in charge and if he wants to give the birthday girl a night in the park, he’s going to make sure it happens.”

And suddenly, Seokjin knows what he’s been forgetting.

—

“Okay, wait.” Jimin exhales sharply and closes his eyes. “You said that you do have an option of a makeshift roof or something - but now you’re saying you don’t want to do it? I put a deposit down on the whole place,” he reminds him.

“Mr Park, I’m saying we can do it but I don’t recommend it,” says the coordinator patiently. “We use that for light drizzles or snowfall but the downpour that’s been predicted will render it useless.”

“There’s been a downpour predicted every single day of this week and nothing has happened,” he points out. “I’m okay to take that risk.”

“It’s not just the furniture, Mr Park.” The coordinator sounds mildly stern now. “It’s a lot of expensive sound equipment as well and I cannot, in good conscience, risk having it outside -“

“Okay.” Jimin interrupts him, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to think. “What if we moved it to slightly earlier?”

“It’s already drizzling, sir.”

“Fine, do you have a different spot in the park?” He asks through gritted teeth. “Something more canopied, perhaps?”

The coordinator hums vaguely and there’s the clicking of a keyboard in the background. Jimin rolls his eyes at Taehyung, who’s approaching him with a questioning look, and mutes the call.

“I’m going to kill this guy,” he mutters, shaking his head. “I've been planning this for a month and he’s pulling the rug out from under me now?”

“I mean, he may have a point. If it rains then your plan is ruined - but it’ll probably stop in a bit,” Taehyung adds hastily when Jimin glowers.

“God, I hope so,” he says, although even he is starting to think that it might not. “I can handle a slight change of plan with the venue but the rest of it has to be perfect. There’s the food and the cake, and - oh, did the champagne arrive?”

“Er, not yet.” Taehyung checks his watch. “They said they would send it in an hour, right? Should’ve been here by now.”

Jimin is about to swear but just then, the park coordinator says something. He waves Taehyung away, accepting an encouraging clap on the back, and gets back on the call.

“Sir, we might have something on the other side of the park,” he suggests hesitantly. “The view is not the same, but it fits the general requirement.”

“The view - you mean it doesn’t have a view of the Han.” Jimin takes a deep breath, preparing to choose his battles. “Okay. What is this other side of the park? Where - how -  I mean, what does it look like?”

“It’s in a way that the screen and the projector and all the sound equipment will be protected, but you and your companion will still be able to enjoy the beautiful outdoors.”

Jimin frowns. “How -“ Somehow, all he’s able to picture is some kind of garage where everything is stuffed in and just two lawn chairs and dragged out onto the grass.

“It’s available for inspection now, sir. But we don’t have a lot of time as we need to confirm the booking at least two hours before the actual event in order to make preparations.”

Jimin’s eyes widen and he lunges after Taehyung, grabbing his hand and checking his watch. “It’s almost five pm! I was supposed to have the venue from seven pm anyway!”

“You are an esteemed client, Mr Park, so we can make that exception. Our staff is very efficient and can help you -“

He resists the urge to scream over the phone at someone who, at the end of the day, is just doing his job.

“I’ll be there,” he says quickly and hangs up. “Okay, I’m heading out,” he adds to nobody in particular, but Taehyung follows him into his room anyway.

“Everything okay?” he asks, stopping at the doorway.

“No. Actually, you know what? Yes,” says Jimin firmly, shedding his clothes and throwing on the outfit he was planning to wear (comfortable jeans and a Louis Vuitton jacket, plus a Gucci hoodie of his that Sooah loves to snuggle in). “It will be okay because there’s really no other option.”

“Look, I’m sure it’ll work out fine, but… I mean, I’m sure Sooah will appreciate the thought no matter how it goes,” he reasons.

“You know, I’m sure she will,” agrees Jimin hurriedly, “but I need this to be more than just a thought. Okay? Because this is - this is -” He struggles for a few moments before giving up. “This is Kim Sooah,” he says finally.

Taehyung looks like he wants to say something but instead he simply nods. “Okay, go, then. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Yeah - can you bring the champagne down there once it gets delivered?” he asks immediately, rushing out of the room and gathering his phone and keys. “The food and cake will come there directly - hang on, I need to check out -” He fishes out his phone and makes a call, tucking the phone in between his ear and shoulder.

They reach the living room and Jimin scans it to see Hoseok, Seokjin and Jungkook in front of the television, sharing a large bowl of popcorn while a football match goes on. 

“Jungkook, I’m taking your car.” Jimin grabs a bunch of keys from the side table and, without waiting for a response, dashes out of the front door.

The park coordinator may not have been completely wrong; the rain is already at a steady speed, enough that most people have pulled out their umbrellas and the roads are starting to get jammed. He drives to the park anyway, a little unsettled at seeing it completely empty this time of day, leaves the Gucci hoodie in the backseat and runs inside towards the office.

The coordinator seems to be waiting for him. “Right this way, Mr Park,” he says immediately, barely giving Jimin time to run a hand through his damp blond hair before ushering him out under a black umbrella.

“This is the alternative?” Jimin asks a few minutes later, staring up at the thick cloth separating them from the rain.

“Yes - now I know it’s not probably what you pictured but it’s the best we can do in such short notice, Mr Park.”

“Actually, this is exactly what I pictured,” he murmurs, heart sinking. It does look like a makeshift garage in front of them, like something he would’ve planned back when they were in high school, using a bedsheet for a screen and a Bluetooth speaker for an innovative night out, with instant ramen and cokes. He’d hoped that now, all these years later, they were finally due for an upgrade - but the universe clearly had other plans.

Okay, Jimin. Stop whining. Just think. He takes a deep breath and turns around, wincing a little and trying to ignore how the rain is getting louder by the minute.

“Okay, so it’s… five-thirty,” he says. “Sooah will be here by seven which gives me just enough time to follow up on the food and drinks. What?” he asks, when the coordinator’s assistant looks confused.

“Well, it’s - it’s just -” She stutters, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Won’t the food get ruined, sir?” 

“Why will it -” Jimin stops, closing his eyes. The rain. “Fuck me,” he mutters under his breath.

“Sir, we can arrange for a table next to the screen under the roof so you and your friend can come up and take your food and go back outside -” He stops abruptly when he sees Jimin’s incredulous expression. “I mean… it could be like a buffet,” he reasons in a small voice.

“It won’t be anything like a buffet. Sir, come on -” He sighs, at his wit’s end and getting anxious. “Can’t we get - I don’t know - something stronger up there to protect us from the rain? The screen, projector, electronics - all of that is going to be under the roof. The sound is going to be compromised because of the rain anyway - can’t we just get a slightly stronger thing above our heads so the food doesn’t have to move, too?”

The coordinator starts to say something sympathetic when Jimin’s phone rings. He apologises and picks it up immediately. “Taehyung! Come to the other end of the park - no, not that side. The side by the exit parking lot.” He stays on the phone for another minute until he spots Taehyung jogging up the path with an umbrella in one hand and a plain tote bag in the other that Jimin assumes contains the champagne.

“Thank God,” he sighs, shoving his phone back in his pocket as Taehyung reaches him.

“Okay, listen -” Taehyung holds up a hand. “Don’t freak out. But I think when you gave the liquor store your address, you gave them your apartment and not the dorm. But - “ He says loudly, preempting Jimin’s heart stopping in his chest, “I got this as a backup,” he says, retrieving a bottle of Chandon from the bag.

It’s not what Jimin had chosen but the fact that something has found a solution is more than he could hope for right now. In a moment of emotion, he hugs Taehyung tightly.

“Alright,” says Taehyung gruffly, patting him on the back. “Come on now, you have things to do, Jimin. Oh, speaking of which,” he adds as Jimin steps away, “Sooah called me a little while ago. I don’t know if she was looking for hints or what, but I told her you’re working really hard at it.”

“You did?” Jimin can’t decide if this is a good thing. “Alright. Well. Got to get it done, then, I guess.”

“It’ll be great. Don’t worry.”

There’s a clap of thunder and they both jump. Taehyung opens his mouth, clearly looking for words of comfort but eventually gives up. Giving Jimin another pat on the shoulder, he hurries away in the rain, the umbrella barely helping anymore. 

—

Stepping out of a hot shower, steam still rising from the bathroom behind him, Seokjin ties a towel around his waist and enters his room. The moment he does, the first thing he sees is the view outside the window, with rain lashing down the city. He stares at it, horridly fascinated, when he remembers.

He sits on his bed, glad he’s in the warmth of the dorm, and makes a phone call.

“Hey,” he says, glad she picked up on the second ring. “How are you?”

“Fine,” says Seulgi, but she doesn’t sound curt. “You?”

“I’m okay. What about you? Are you still at Big Hit?” 

“Yeah, why?”

“Uh, have you looked outside?”

“Oh. That.” Seulgi sighs. “Yeah, it looks pretty bad. But I still have work to get done so I’m stuck here for a while no matter what. All I can do is hope the rain stops sometime tonight.”

“The forecast says it’s going to go on really late,” points out Seokjin, peering out of the window uneasily again. “I can barely see the river from my window anymore. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to get home now before it gets worse. I can pick you up,” he offers.

“No. I mean - no, thank you,” she amends, her voice softening a bit. “I told you, I have a ton of work to get done. There are still two whole meetings to go - I don’t think I’ll be able to leave before ten, no matter what.”

“But it’ll get actively dangerous to commute in worse rain than this,” he argues. “The company should care about an employee’s wellbeing over a meeting.”

She scoffs. “You work for the same company, Seokjin,” she reminds him. “How many times have they prioritised your wellbeing over a work commitment?”

To this, Seokjin has no answer. “You have a point,” he admits grudgingly, and is heartened to hear her chuckle. “Okay, but can you tell me whenever your meetings do end? I’ll pick you up - and I’ll drop you to your place,” he clarifies quickly. “If that’s what you want.”

Seulgi doesn’t reply for a few seconds. “Seokjin,” she says carefully, but then sighs. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do but I don’t know if…”

He waits for her to continue but when she doesn’t, he speaks. “Look, I’m not trying anything,” he says, turning away from the window and feeling the same guilt he’s felt around her for weeks now. “But these are special circumstances. I mean, I don’t know if you have a window anywhere around you, but it is insane out there right now.”

“Alright,” she says, but she doesn’t sound convinced. “I’ll let you know. Chances are, the rain will stop.”

“Let me know either way.” Seokjin waits until she hangs up, not really sure what he was expecting from this exchange. Seulgi wasn’t off base at all; apart from the rain, the constant nagging guilt at putting her through this period of doubt definitely played a part.

He isn’t any closer to figuring out his stance with Nari. Seulgi feels far away, farther away than a girlfriend should. It’s a mess and all he can do now is wait.

The rain pours harder, the sky darkening and thunder deafening. Jungkook is lazing around the house, doing laundry and other chores while Taehyung is video calling a friend who’s working abroad. Hoseok is a ball of nervous energy, mentioning more than once that he hopes Chaeyoung is okay in the storm and safe at home. 

Seokjin just waits, until a couple of hours later, Seulgi finally lets him know.

Seulgi [20:00] Hey. So my second meeting hasn’t even started yet and I think the company has finally caught on to the situation outside. Apparently they got a government advisory about the storm and that it’s only going to get worse.

Seokjin [20:01] So… what? They’re not letting you leave?

Seulgi [20:02] They’re advising us not to. And honestly, I don’t think anyone should be outside in this rain. Apparently parts of the city are losing electricity, too - another team was supposed to have a work dinner in Hongdae but it got cancelled because the whole restaurant shut down.

Seokjin [20:03] How will you get home then?

Seulgi [20:03] They’ve set up rooms here - I think they’ve repurposed the resting rooms that the idols use on the top floor for the rest of us mere mortals. It’s not ideal but it’s better than trying to go out there.

Seokjin bites his lip. It sounds rather like she’s made a decision, albeit grudgingly, and in typical Seulgi fashion, has told him subtly not to bother coming over. It’s hard to argue when she hasn’t said it in so many words, and even harder to justify an argument while being able to hear the wind outside. 

“What are you guys planning to do for the rest of the night?” Seokjin asks, looking up at the others.

“Not sure,” answers Taehyung, getting up from where he was lying on the sofa and walking towards the kitchen. “Lazy night in, I think. Jungkook has a date, though,” he adds, grinning.

Hoseok whistles teasingly as Jungkook chuckles, his ears going slightly red. “I do but it’s raining so hard. I’ll probably have to cancel,” he says, giving Taehyung a sheepish smile that Seokjin doesn’t fully understand.

“Okay, so that’s two. Hobi?” Seokjin taps his watch. “What about you?”

“Oh, uh…” Hoseok shakes his head, looking a bit distracted. “Not sure. Why?”

“Just - just curious. Seulgi was just saying that there’s an advisory about the storm floating around and Hongdae has lost power or something, so in case any of you have plans…”

Hoseok’s face goes slack. “Hongdae lost power?”

“Well, one restaurant in Hongdae lost power as far as I know -”

“Chaeyoung lives near Hongdae,” mutters Hoseok, tapping furiously on his phone before putting it to his ear. “Sooah is out with Jimin so she’s probably alone…” He taps his foot impatiently for a few seconds before swearing. “She isn’t picking up.”

“Maybe it’s a signal issue,” Jungkook starts to say, but Hoseok is already off the sofa and grabbing a jacket. “Wait, where are you going?”

“To check on Chaeyoung,” he answers bluntly, rummaging for his car keys in the bowl on the mantle and dashing out of the apartment without any further explanation, the door slamming shut behind him.

Seokjin’s heart races; it’s a gale out there, but this is a sign. Chaeyoung must matter that much to Hoseok, if the decision was that quick for him. He checks his watch again to see it’s a quarter past eight. He traces the familiar route in his mind, calculating how much longer it will probably take him to get there than the average day.

Something clicks and he hurries up off the couch as well, pulling his shoes on before the other two even seem to realise that something has happened.

“Wait, where are you -”

Taehyung is cut off by the front door slamming shut for the second time. Seokjin hurries down the hall, checking his pocket for his phone and keys as he takes the elevator to the basement car parking.

If he had been amazed by the rain from inside the three storey dorm in Hannam Hill, he wasn’t ready for the real thing. The moment he pulls his car out of the parking lot and above ground, the sound of the rain hitting the roof of his car is like gunshots. For a moment, he considers reversing and doing this another day but the fact of the matter is that today is the day. 

In the distance, he sees what could be another set of headlights turning down a path and out of the main gates that he guesses is Hoseok. Making up his mind, he heads out, trying to drive as carefully as possible in the severely compromised visibility of the streets.

The roads are largely empty save for buses, some taxis and cars that seem to be desperate to get done with the night. Despite knowing the route like the back of his hand, Seokjin plugs in his phone and turns on the map in case there are road blockages, and starts driving.

He has no idea what Big Hit can possibly do when it comes to building any sort of nightly camp for its employees in the office. All these years, his attempt has remained to stay as far away from that artificially lit building as he possibly can, preferring to cling on to the vestiges of normal life outside of it.

Namjoon will know. The answer comes easily to him and even though the leader is on holiday, Seokjin decides this is enough of an emergency to disturb him during it. He calls him and waits, still driving through the rain as best as he can, the roads flowing and reflecting the street lamps, the sheets of rain falling with a vengeance. 

Namjoon doesn’t answer, possibly because it's his last few hours of vacation. Swearing uncharacteristically, Seokjin dials the next best person. The line crackles and a woman’s voice, a bit far away, sounds abruptly before another takes its place.

“Hello?”

“Yoongi,” says Seokjin gratefully, swerving down a lane and wincing as he splashes a row of bikes parked along the side of the road. “Listen - have you ever seen the resting rooms on the top floor of the company building?”

There are sounds at the other end, of similar rain and splashing water. The woman’s voice floats again, a soft “Shit” in the background before Yoongi speaks.

“What?”

“The resting rooms on the top floor,” repeats Seokjin urgently, honking at what he thinks might be another car coming the opposite way. The side mirrors are completely useless by now. “Have you seen them? What are they like?”

“Oh, that? The ones for the idols?” There’s a screeching sound on the other end and Yoongi swears this time. “They’re fine, I guess. I’ve crashed there a couple times after all-nighters.”

“Really?” Relief washes over Seokjin but before he can say anything further, the voice at the other pierces the air.

“Yoongi - that’s a tree!” 

“Fuck!” Another screeching sound, a loud one, and then silence. “Uh… hyung,” says Yoongi, sounding uncertain. “I’m going to have to call you back.”

The line goes silent but Seokjin has what he wants. He just hopes Yoongi is okay and makes a mental note to call him in a little while as he pulls onto Hangang-daero, passing building after building - museums, a school, the ramen joint where he and Seulgi had first gone to almost a year ago… he keeps going, barely able to see the flyover in front of him through the rain. His wipers work overtime as he passes the last building before the bridge, seeing the company logo flash momentarily in his rearview mirror before it disappears.

The areas off the main road are darker somehow, the roads narrower, trees thicker and the rain seeming even more stifling. But the closer Seokjin gets, the more he’s convinced that he’s made the right decision. He parks the car in his regular spot and, holding his hood over his head, sprints across the street as the raindrops pelt him until he enters the building, already fairly wet.

He doesn’t dither; running upstairs to the first floor, he knocks on the door, thankful that there’s a sliver of light underneath. Behind him, the storm rages on. As he waits, Seokjin turns to look outside the window in the corridor, seeing small gusts of wind and trees moving with the force. Twenty seconds and his socks and shoes are drenched; he slides open the window slightly and immediately backs away, the wind and droplets hitting him instantly.

The sound of the door opening is the only thing louder to him than the rain. He turns around, his heart hammering.

“Seokjin?” Nari frowns, in a college hoodie and faded jeans, thick socks on her feet. Her hair falls unbrushed down her shoulders and she’s clutching a sheaf of papers in one hand. “What are you doing here?”

He wants to smile; it’s automatic, so he does. Taking a step forward, he thanks his stars he decided to leave the dorm, rain be damned.

“Hi, Nari,” he says, watching her forehead clear just a little bit. “Happy birthday.”

—

Thanks for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

ok ok requesting a treat for all of us, honestly

sleep demon seungcheol. extra sprinkling of nasty if possible. i want you to out-zaddy you know who.

>:) ok smooch smooch have fun!!!! I LOVE HALIWEEEEEN

❀ Pairing: Incubus!Choi Seungcheol x afab reader

❀ Summary: You can’t seem to sleep, but the strange man in the bar that you can’t visiting promises he can help. 

❀ Word Count: 6,239

❀ Genre: Supernatural

❀ Type: Smut, PWP

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Mentions of insomnia including side effects like exhaustion, dysfunction, derealization, feeling out of it/in weird headspaces, time is not supposed to feel linear in this and it’s supposed to feel kind of liminal-space in places, reader is often confused/thoughts are a little scattered and feels out of it because of proximity to an entity, there are creepy vibes in this, Seungcheol doesn’t always appear the same/mentions of feeling like in danger or on edge around him instinctually, explicit language, sexually explicit content including unprotected vaginal sex, fingering, a lot of spit and cum, nipple play, reference to subspace or an adjacent, choking, oral (f. and m. receiving) multiple orgasms, biting and scratching, I wouldn’t categorize this as explicit dom/sub dynamics but there are power dynamics in some places, mean Seungcheol in spots, like very light humiliation if you squint in one section, overall just…. Weird ass vibes and reccouring scenes/reader not remembering things. 

❀ A/N: Hi Jolene Wolene Folene - thank you for requesting this thing that we totally didn’t talk about before I started Haliween and definitely maybe sort of giving me the outlet to write this weird little liminal space demon that I love doing so dearly. Pls enjoy spooky ooky kooky Cheol and his weird little obsession with reader :) 

❀ A/N 2: This fic is a part of my Haliween writing event that I’m hosting September - October. 

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀ Haliween

Nothing feels real. Your eyes burn as you stare at the computer screen, the letters and the buttons on your email becoming blurry as they swim out of focus. The dull sounds of your office feel as though they’re several rooms over, faint hums heard through walls of plaster. 

Pushing away from the desk, you head to the break room, in desperate need of coffee. You know drinking caffeine this late in the afternoon will only further exacerbate your insomnia, and yet you need it if you’re going to get through the next three hours at work.

You’ve hit the point in your endless nights of no sleep where everything feels off, like you’re experiencing things in the third person. You’re there but you don’t feel like it, navigating your day knowing that it’s you doing and saying things at work without really registering that you’re doing or saying those things. 

Coffee hisses from the machine into your cup. You stare at it, vision going unfocused again as the smell wafts up to you. Time passes. You stand and stare. 

Someone walks into the room, bringing you back to reality as you look over your shoulder and see your coworker come in to fill up their water bottle. They raise their brows at you as though to ask if you’re okay, and you grin, gesturing to the coffee like that’s some sort of answer.

Really, you’re not okay. You have ventured past the threshold of tired into something else entirely. Something that is lesser than, something base and nearly inhuman. 

Derealization. It’s a word your doctor had used when you described what it was like for you after so many nights without sleep, the disconnected feeling to the world around you. Even as you walk to your desk, it doesn’t feel real. You logically know that it is, that you exist in a specific time and space.

And yet… you remain buoyed in that space, totally untethered from everything around you. Floating. Lost. 

Back at your desk, the words on the computer screen blur again. Come into focus. You type and email. The keyboard makes sounds, but you don’t really register them. 

At some point, the day ends. 

-

A bright neon sign burns against the darkness of the alleyway. You blink rapidly, holding your hand in front of your eyes to block out some of the light. Looking around, you don’t see anyone else. The sound of the city is muted and far away, but you smell the burning of fuel and the smell of stagnant water under a dripping window air conditioning unit. 

You don’t remember walking here. You lower your hand as your eyes adjust to the burning pink above the door. Looking down at your clothes, you’re at least relieved to discover you put on jeans and a t-shirt before going out on an adventure out on the town.

Police sirens wail in the distance. You pull your phone out of your back pocket, thankful you brought it. 

“Fuck,” you swear, flashing the time. It’s 3:33 in the morning and you know immediately you’ve sleepwalked your way to this strange, unfamiliar alleyway. 

It’s a vicious circle: go days without sleep feeling like you’re a step away from death, or take just enough sleep medication to knock you out but make you sleepwalk. 

Shoving your phone in your pocket, you look back up at the neon sign, reading it for the first time. Hush. A shiver goes down your spine at the name, eyes flicking to the blue crescent moon attached to the pink cursive. 

There’s a magnetism about the sign. Your eyes dropdown to the door under it, a nondescript metal entrance to what you think is a bar. There’s nothing to indicate that it is a bar, just a gut feeling. Your gut feeling is also whispering at you to go inside, to open the door and step into the cool space of Hush. 

Licking your lips, you take one hesitant step forward. The tingling in your spine increases and you feel static in the air. Heart racing, you take another step. Then another. Before you realize it, you’re at the door with your hand on the knob, cool to the touch.

With a deep breath, you pull the door open and step inside. 

It’s even darker inside than the alleyway. Gentle piano music plays somewhere in the room and you swivel left and right, trying to gain your bearings as your eyes adjust. When they do, you see a very small room with a single piano in the corner, two booths, a bar at the back, and three stools pulled up to its counter.

A single person sits at the bar. You hesitate in the entrance, drinking in the stranger. It appears to be a man in a dark purple suit, his broad shoulders hunched over where he leans against the wooden bar top. You can’t make out much else beyond the wide shape of his shoulders and narrow taper of his waist, but you can see the crimson hair that glows like flame underneath the dull, flickering light above his head.

“You gonna stand there all night?” His voice is soft, a gentle pur. He turns his head to the side, his profile shadowed. “I don’t bite.” You hear the smirk in his voice when he tacks on, “Not often, anyway.” 

Carefully, you approach the bar. There doesn’t appear to be a bartender of any sort or anyone else in the bar, for that matter. You realize that there’s piano music but no pianist, but decide not to focus on it as you enter the man’s line of focus. 

When he looks at you, the world stops. It’s like stepping into a bubble, everything else ceasing to exist. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end and you feel your pulse hammer in your throat as you stare at him, unable to take your eyes off him.

He’s beautiful but it’s not that. His eyes are dark, but there is something more there. Something swimming in the depth of the darkness that you cannot place, something ancient and curious and awake. You feel pinned under his gaze, eyes darting to drink in the rest of his features: soft, pouty lips the color of berries, sharp jawline, thick, angular brows. 

Stunning. Dangerous. Alluring. 

“Hi,” he says, mouth stretching into a grin. His teeth aren’t sharp, but you have the distinct feeling that they should be. “You’re a pretty thing.” 

“Um, hi.”

“Can’t sleep?” 

“How can you tell?”

His grin spreads, wicked and cutting. “I have a feeling about those things.” His dark eyes drop to the seat next to him. “Have a seat. Maybe I can help.”

Tentatively, you sit down next to him. “You can help me sleep?” 

“What if I said I can?” 

Sitting next to him is oppressive. His presence weighs down on you, a physical entity that you can’t see. Static buzzes in your mind and your thoughts feel a little sticky, like just being close to him disrupts your frequency. 

He smells like jasmine, immediately soothing. You feel your eyes grow heavy as you blink a few times, settling on the stool as you angle yourself toward him. 

You’d misjudged his size when you walked in. He’d seemed broad when you first walked in, but you don’t think you fully understood the width of him. The weight of him. Or maybe it just feels that way when you look at him, your perception of him flickering like a bad TV signal. 

“Tell me about your sleep problems.”

You shrug. “They’re like any other sleep problems.”

“Not all sleep problems are the same, Pretty.” 

“I suppose that’s true. I don’t really know what causes them. I just… can’t fall asleep and then I start getting worried I won’t sleep, so it makes it worse. I want to sleep so bad but it’s like… wanting to sleep only makes it avoid me more.”

“Mmm. Sleep is a fickle thing, isn’t it?” 

“My doctors give me meds but the normal dose doesn’t work and the stronger dose… makes me walk around.” 

He pouts. “You poor, sweet thing.” 

Something about his sympathy makes you flush. You sulk, looking down at the countertop as you pick absently at the peeling varnish on the wood. “I know,” you murmur. “I just want to be normal.” 

“I can help. If you want it.” 

You glance at him. His eyes are dancing dangerously. Half of you screams yes while the other screams run. You’re only vaguely aware that you’re in a bar alone with a strange man who knows you’re sleep deprived. No one would help you if you screamed. You don’t know where you would run.

His dark eyes seem to read your thoughts and he laughs, shaking his head as he turns to pick up his drink from the bar. “I’m not that sort of creature.”

“How would you help me sleep?”

“Are you accepting my help?”

His question hangs in the air between the two of you. The piano music has stopped, but you don’t remember when it did. Overhead, the light still flickers. On. Off. On. Off. Onoffonoffonoff-

“You’re under no obligation to accept.” His voice is kind. Warm. Soft like your blankets, cozy like your bed. “You’re always free to make your own decision.” 

“I want help,” you agree slowly. “I really do.”

His red mouth curves into a smile and again, you’re struck by the thought that his teeth should be sharp. “Good. I’ll help you, Pretty.” 

“What’s your name?” 

“You can call me Seungcheol.” You give him your name and he tilts his head, drinking you in. “I know.” 

“How are you going to help me sleep?”

Seungcheol finishes his drink. You watch him swallow thickly, suddenly fascinated with the way his throat bobs as he does. The smell of jasmine is overwhelming as he leans in, stopping an inch away from you.

The static increases. You feel your blood buzz pleasantly. 

“Close your eyes for me,” Seungcheol murmurs, looking at you through silky lashes. “I promise everything will be okay.” 

For a moment, you stare at him, the air charged. He doesn’t hurry you along, content to study your face with that same uncanny darkness swimming in his eyes. 

Taking a deep breath, you do what Seungcheol says, and you close your eyes. 

-

Sunlight wakes you up. You roll over in your bed, squinting up at the window. Your blackout curtains are open, letting the morning beam in on where you’re tangled in your comforter and sheets. 

Sighing heavily, you close your eyes again, content to lay in the warm sun. Just as you start to drift to sleep again, you recall a pair of dark eyes and fiery hair. You jolt upright, heart hammering as you remember the exchange. 

Snatching your phone from your nightstand, you open your walking app to look at where the hell you went last night, but there’s nothing there. Frowning, you pull the sheets off your body. You’re in pajamas and fuzzy socks that you don’t remember putting on. 

Hauling yourself out of bed, you lean halfway into the laundry basket to claw through your clothing. None of the things you wore last night are there, so you go to your closet to wrench the doors open and search. 

The shirt from last night and the exact pair of jeans are hanging, completely unworn. Your frown deepens as your confusion rises. Turning away from the closet, you open your phone again and try to get any sort of sense of where you went last night, but there’s no text threads. No signs you used public transportation. Nothing in any of your tracking apps that indicate you left at all. 

“Was it a fucking dream?” you mutter to yourself, perplexed. 

Sitting down on your bed, you try to look up Hush on the internet. You can find nothing in your city that indicates a bar or establishment like the one you discovered Seungcheol in. You even try social media to look him up - Reddit, neighborhood pages, anything to try and find the stranger from last night.

It seems Hush and Seungcheol don’t exist.

And yet… you don’t remember going to sleep last night after he agreed to help you. And you feel rested today. 

Puzzled and a little freaked out, you give up your search. A dream is a dream, and you’re content that you finally feel a little less exhausted and a little more awake. You’ll take the win, getting up to start your day with a little bit of pep in your step. 

By midday, you’ve mostly forgotten about the bar and the man in it, only remembering those dark eyes and that red hair. 

-

Heat creeps up your spine. You nuzzle against the warmth behind you, the smell of jasmine coaxing you deeper into the embrace. You feel the vibration of laughter against your back, your nerves tingling as you feel feather-light fingers brush up your thighs. 

“Tired?” 

Immediately you know it’s Seungcheol’s deep voice, that same velvet purr whispered right in your ear. You shake your head no, suddenly not wanting to sleep at all. You press into him further, feeling the way his arms tighten around you as he chuckles, mouth pressing chastely against the spot under your ear. 

“Liar,” he teases. 

You pout. It might be true, but he could have the decency to pretend it’s not. You open your eyes and look up at him. His hair is like spilled blood in the dark of your room. The curtains are closed, blocking out all light from the moon and street, but your salt lamp still burns in the corner. 

Seungcheol looks like the devil in the low, orange light. He’s in a black t-shirt, which is somehow more deadly than the fine cut suit. Your stomach flutters and you squeeze your thighs shut when you realize his hands are brushing up and down your thighs, touch slow. 

“Thought you were a dream,” you mumble, words a little thick. “Thought you weren’t real.”

“Dreams can’t be real?” That makes you frown and he laughs, jostling you against his chest. His hands squeeze your thighs and you let out a breathy sound as he nudges you with his nose. “You don’t know anything about dreams, Pretty. Can I show you?” 

More than anything you want him to show you. Suddenly your desire for him outweighs any sort of sleepiness, your nerves sparking and coming to life as you nod helplessly against his chest, trying to lean as close as possible. 

“Needy,” he chides. He presses a wet kiss to your jawline and you preen, your head falling back against his shoulder. “I’ll go easy so you remember this time, alright?” 

“Cheol.” 

The nickname sounds familiar. Intimate. Like you’ve said it before - something tells you that you have said it before. You don’t remember where or when, but it’s with familiarity that you moan the nickname again as he nips at your neck, one hand drifting between your legs to pry them open. 

He murmurs praise against your ear when your legs drift apart, spreading to accommodate his seeking touch. You’re wearing shorts but it feels entirely too hot under the blankets pooled around your waist. You kick at them and whine, managing to get them down to your knees before he huffs and presses forward, temporarily bending you in half to toss them. 

When he settles back against your headboard, you follow him, turning your head to press your mouth to the corner of his. His lips twitch in a smirk, shifting to catch your mouth fully with his. 

Seungcheol kisses you like he knows how you like to be kissed - devouring, consuming, hungry. His tongue brushes against yours as he drinks you in as his hand presses between your leagues, applying pressure to your clothed cunt.

You whine into the kiss and he grins against your mouth. A line of spit connects your lips when you pull away panting, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. His fingers circle your clit gently and your hips buck in his hold against the stimulation. 

“Not enough,” you whisper. You grip his wrist with one hand, the other gripping the sheets to bunch them in your fist. “Cheol, please.”

“Hush,” he scolds, biting your jaw. His free hand comes up to your neck, gripping you under your jaw to angle your mouth back to his. “Kiss me.” 

You melt in Seungcheol’s grip. His tongue tastes sweet, his grip on you making you dizzy. Your thighs squeeze around his wrist as he works you up, his touch teasing and not enough through layers of fabric. 

He knows it’s not enough, content to string you along until you’re writhing against him, back shifting against his chest as you squirm. His kisses drift from your mouth to your jaw, open-mouthed and spit-slicked as his tongue darts out to taste your skin while he goes. 

Seungheol’s grip on your chin slides down toward the base of your neck, his fingers pressed tight against your pulse. You can feel your heartbeat slamming in his grasp as he bends your head away from him, lips attaching to the softness of your throat. 

His name escapes your lips in a whisper. He hums a pleased sound, tongue dragging up your neck to your ear where he nibbles. “So good for me,” he whispers. “I’ll reward you.” 

You follow with an urgent nod, pleased when his hand slides down the waistband of your shorts and underwear. When his fingers brush against the flushed, sticky folds of your cunt, you keen loudly, unable to keep it together.

“So needy.” You can’t tell if it’s an insult or not the way he growls the word against your ear, grip on your throat tightening. “Need my help that bad, huh?” 

“Yes, god.”

“I am not god,” he grinds out, voice dark. For a second, the illusion shatters and you glance up at him. His eyes are endless, an ancient thing looking back at you. You freeze in his hold, a prey caught in a trap. Then he softens, pressing a kiss to your brow. “Tell me what you need, Pretty.” 

“Hands. Need your hands.” 

A bolt of pleasure goes through you when Seungcheol’s middle finger circles your clit. Your nails dig into his wrist, leaving little crescent moons behind. His ministrations are leisurely, giving you what you want but not as fast as you want it. 

That’s Seungcheol’s game. He’ll give you what you want, only when he feels like it. You feel a sense of deja vu, realizing that you’ve been here before. Snatches of memories flash through your mind. They pass through your grip like sand, none of them firm enough to grab onto. 

“Missed you,” you mumble. “Can’t sleep without you.”

“Ah, there it is.” 

Seungcheol is pleased with your recollection. You can tell when he relents his teasing touches, fingers drifting down to press a single digit into your heat. Your stomach flips when he does, relief sweeping through you as he shallowly fucks you with a single finger.

It’s not enough but it’s better. You shiver in his hold, going a little slack in his arms, hips twitching. He’s content to have you like this, working your cunt slowly, watching your reactions as your breathing catches and restarts. 

“Feel good?” 

“So good.” You can barely get the reply out, words faint. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, Pretty.” 

His kiss is soft against your cheekbone, at odds with the grip he still has on your throat. You feel his hand like a comforting weight, loving the feel of it resting against your pulse. He doesn’t squeeze or choke you, content just to hold you against him. 

Seungcheol pulls his fingers out, the wet squelch obscene. “Take this shit off for me,” he tells you, pulling at your shorts. 

His heavy hand rests on your collarbone as your hands shoot to your shorts. Hooking your thumbs in them, you shimmy down, lifting your hips with his help to kick them down your thighs and legs to the floor. 

Cool air hits your heat as you settle against his chest again. He nestles against your neck, fingers resuming the task of peeling you apart as he sinks his pointer and ring finger into you. You clench around him, loving the stretch and the feeling of his fingers pressing against your g-spot as he slowly strokes you, breath hot against your ear. 

Being unable to remember your previous encounter with him feels cruel. Seungcheol knows exactly how to work you toward your high. The slick sound of his fingers between your legs accompanied with his lips pressed against your neck drives you insane. 

Unable to keep still, your hips come up off the bed to meet his hand. The hand not fucking you to insanity slides under your shirt. Heat trails his touch. He traces the curve of your breast and your breath stutters, catching in your throat. His nails scrape against sensitive skin, moving higher until he drags his touch over your nipple. 

The heel of Seungcheol’s hand presses firmly into your clit. You mewl, thrashing against him, closer and closer to your peak. His strokes turn harsh, finger-fucking you at a brutal pace while his other hand tweaks your nipple, the pleasure-sting making you quake. 

“Come on,” he urges, voice deep. Sharp teeth scrape against your throat. “Come for me, Pretty.” 

Everything turns to static as you clench around his fingers. You squeeze so tight he can barely continue stroking you through your peak. There’s a high-pitched ring in your ears as you pant through it, vaguely aware that Seungcheol is muttering something against your ear that you don’t understand. 

As your orgasm fades, so do you. The world becomes soft at the edges. You feel Seungcheol’s heartbeat against your back and smell jasmine, but you slowly drift away from him, barely able to catch his growl of remember me next time before you’re gone. 

-

Cold granite countertop digs into your knees. You barely register the pain, one hand pressed flat to the counter, the other reaching behind you to tangle in Seungcheol’s hair. Your hot breath skates across the surface, the cool stone not enough to combat the heat of your skin. 

Seungcheol’s face is pressed as far as he can go into your cunt, the flat of his tongue dragging from top to bottom. You’re nearly catatonic, eyes rolling behind your eyelids as he fucks you with his tongue. 

He grunts when your fingers tighten in his hair, holding him close as he sucks harshly at you. He’s loud as he eats you out, his hunger something more demonic and fiendish than you’re used to. You don’t care, pressing back into him as he mouths at you. 

His hands firmly pry you open, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. You can feel the bruising way he holds you, uncaring as he works you toward another high, so desperate for it that you’re begging. 

Begging for what, you don’t know. None of the words that fall from your mouth really make sense. You’re a rambling disaster under the mastery of his mouth, and as you tiptoe the line of your high, it feels like you’ll never unscramble your thoughts again.

You come again, feeling the way you flood his mouth. He doesn’t care, growling low in his throat as his mouth becomes more insistent, fingers pressing into you even harder. Something takes over him in that moment, his grip on you so fierce that you think you might break.

But you don’t. You never do. 

-

“Pretty,” Seungcheol murmurs, cocking his head to the side. Your mouth aches where it’s stretched harshly around his cock, spit leaking from the side of your lips. His thumb brushes across the spilled fluid, grinning as he leisurely pops it into his mouth and sucks. “Such a pretty thing, mouth full of cock.”

You hum around him eagerly, shifting back and forth on your knees. He’s got you on the floor of your bedroom in front of your bed, hands linked obediently behind your back while he stands in front of you. His stomach ripples as he flexes his hips forward, driving himself deeper into your mouth.

Your throat seizes around him again and you feel yourself gag. He pouts and pulls back, letting you gasp for breath. Your mouth is a mess of saliva and cum, wet and sore and battered. You don’t care, looking up at him with watery eyes and sticky lips.

“So important to me,” he whispers, nodding as though to assure you. Your stomach flips and you shuffle toward him eagerly, mouth open. “So perfect for me.” 

Instead of using words, you stick your tongue out, eager. Seungcheol grins and the room darkens. There is a buzz in the back of your mind that you can’t place, ignoring the feeling in favor of watching him slowly slide back in, letting your tongue scrape the bottom of his shaft.

Seungcheol sighs, tilting his head back as he sets a slow pace, using your mouth as he pleases. He’s beautiful like this, all tan skin, heaving chest, sweat sliding down his neck, red hair damp. His eyes are closed but his mouth is open, cherry lips parted sweetly to show his sharp little fangs as he pants. 

So pretty, you think. Even with teeth sharper than they should be.  

-

You’re standing in front of a bar named Hush. The pink neon burns bright against the gritty night, hurting your eyes. Turning around in a circle, you notice there’s no one else in the alleyway. There’s a certain charge to the air, a hum that you can’t place, but grows stronger when you turn to face the bar again. 

A single door sits under the sign, closed and waiting to be opened. Chewing your bottom lip, you stride toward the door, unsure what’s waiting for you on the other side. 

With a hard yank, you pull the door open and step into the darkness of the room beyond. It takes a second for your eyes to adjust to the single, flickering light over the bar, but once they do, you see it’s a tiny room. A single piano sits in the corner near two booths, and there’s only one bar top in the back, a few stools in front of it. 

A single man sits at the bar but he’s facing you, leaning back on his elbows as he drinks you in. He’s in a purple suit that would look ridiculous on anyone else, and his red hair is bright enough to light the night like a flame. 

He cocks his head to the side, a wicked smirk on his lips. “Hi,” he greets. “Can’t sleep?”

“How can you tell?” 

“I’m familiar with these things.” 

He looks like a devil. You can’t place your finger on what exactly about his face makes you think so. His eyes are dark as the depths of the ocean and when he smiles, you swear his teeth are sharp. “Need some help?” 

You do need help sleeping. The doctors can’t help you. Therapy doesn’t help you. Something tells you maybe this stranger can help you. 

“Please.”

“It would be my pleasure, Pretty.” 

-

“Seungcheol,” you gasp, hand flying to his wrist to grip him. “Fuck, holy shit.” 

Fuck is absolutely right. His hand tightens around your throat, placed just right to make it harder for you to breathe. Your thoughts swim as he fucks into you, his sweaty chest sliding against your back as his strokes grow harsher. 

Your knees slide on the bed under the strength of his thrusts. He growls at you to keep up and you whimper, flexing your thighs to remain upright as he drives his cock into you at a pace that sends you hurtling toward your peak. 

“So fucking difficult,” he grunts in your ear. His teeth nip your ear lobe and you whine, intoxicated by the smell of jasmine and the tightening knot in your stomach. “You’re always so difficult.” 

You don’t know what he means by that, but you don’t think it’s the first time you’ve heard something like that from him. Your thoughts turn to liquid you come around him though, feeling the way you grip his cock like a vice, seizing in his hold.

Everything turns to nothing. You can’t hear, see or feel anything but static. Can’t breathe. Can’t do anything but squeeze and squeeze and squeeze.

And then you're gasping for air, lungs burning as you gulp it down. Falling forward, you crash into the sheets and into complete darkness. 

-

“Why do you come and go so often?” 

Seungcheol lifts his head from the bed to turn and look at you. He’s still naked and covered in a sheen of sweat, crimson hair clinging to his forehead. He’s on his stomach laying opposite of you, his head by your feet. 

Something sparks in his eyes at your question, his heavy brows pulling together, cherry lips downturning. “I only come as often as you let me.” 

“What do you mean?”

His face twitches in what you think might be annoyance. “You have a complicated relationship with me.” 

“We have a relationship?” 

He snorts and turns away from you, resting his chin on his arms as he settles back down, closing his eyes. He reminds you of a cat - a particularly dangerous cat, you think. “I suppose. Most people couldn’t say they have a relationship with me, and yet I keep letting you invite me back.”

“Invite you?” 

“Hush. Stop asking questions.” 

“But I don’t… understand.” 

“Good,” he quips. “Because every time you do, you send me away only to invite me back in.” 

-

“Come on,” Seungcheol teases. “You wanted it, so do the work.” 

Your thighs ache. A pitiful sound leaves you as you nod, putting your hands on Seungcheol’s shoulders as you lift your hips, legs shaking. You’re exhausted and burned out, but the ache you need filled as you slowly slide up his cock drives you to keep going. 

Dropping back down in his lap, you feel sparks. Your movements are slow. Seungcheol’s hands are tucked behind his head where he leans back on your pillows, fathomless eyes watching you as you ride him, a little uncoordinated and weak from the exertion he’s put you through all evening.

“Cheol, my thighs,” you protest, instead trying to grind into him. He raises a brow and you pout. “Please.”

“No. Come on, Pretty, you can do it. You can fuck yourself on my cock and make yourself come. Come on.” 

“Cheol.”

“No. Do it yourself.” 

Gritting your teeth, you let your annoyance fuel you. Anger burns right alongside pleasure as you find the strength to do exactly as he tells you. Leveraging your hold on his shoulders, you continue to spear yourself on him at a steady pace and slowly, your anger is replaced with bliss.

Seungcheol feels incredible. He’s hard to take, stretching you to the max and at this position, he’s so deep that you swear you can feel him in your stomach. You keep going, nails biting into his skin and drawing blood but you don’t care. 

Fire burns in his eyes as he watches you. You stare right back, seething at the way he’s making you do it yourself, a little bit of humiliation stinging the edges of your pride. You can tell he thrives on this, satisfied that what you want outweighs any sort of desire to be stubborn.

Somehow, he always wins like this. Always manages to get you to do what he wants. He’s sneaky like that, knowing just what button to press to get you where he wants you. 

Sometimes you feel like you’re a puppet whose strings are connected to his fingertips. 

Either way, you manage to drive yourself to an orgasm, shuddering around him as you seat yourself fully in his lap, throbbing around him. He lets out a long groan, eyes fluttering shut as he struggles to keep his composure.

Leaning back against his knees, you catch your breath. He’s still painfully hard inside of you, and when his eyes open, you see his hunger isn’t sated. Your heart lips when he surges forward, fast as an adder. His mouth crashes into yours hungrily and you let him have you, eager at the flutter in your stomach as he shifts, altering the angle. 

“I’m not done,” he mutters, kisses turning into sharp bites. “So hush while I take what’s mine.” 

-

Something wakes you up from sleep. It’s too dark in your room to see, but your heart is hammering and your hands are quivering. Leaning toward your nightstand, you search for your phone. All you feel is cool wood, no device anywhere.

The dark is oppressive. You don’t remember your room being this dark, the blackout curtains serving as a good device to keep out the city and streetlights, but never so much that you feel swallowed whole. Lost. Devoured.

A tingle buzzes at the back of your neck. You freeze in bed, looking into the never ending darkness. Silence roars in your ears, the outside world completely removed. You can’t even hear your own pulse or breath, the quiet so heavy that panic starts to rise in your throat.

You can’t see but you know you’re not alone - can feel the solid press of something else in the room. 

Too afraid to make noise, you resume the search for your phone, fingers moving slowly across the top of your night stand. You can’t find it. 

Something presses into the mattress at the end of your bed. You feel the dip under its weight but can’t hear the creek of springs. You give up the search for your phone, snatching your hand to your chest and squeezing your eyes shut.

It’s a dream, you tell yourself. It’s a dream it’s a dream it’s a dream it’s- 

The thing in your room moves closer. A scream works its way up your throat where it gets stuck, lodged and unmoving. You squeeze your eyes shut harder, fireworks of color exploding behind your eyelids as you do. 

“I know you’re awake, Pretty.” The voice is so low you can barely make out the words. They scrape against you like claws. “You can’t keep doing this,” it says, almost a sigh in its voice. “You know what this is. What I am.” 

“Go away,” you whisper, voice weak. “Leave me alone.”

“Don’t do this again.” 

“Go away, Seungcheol.” 

There’s a low growl that you can feel as it vibrates the air. “As you wish.”

-

The neon sign above the door says Hush. It burns bright and pink against the night sky. You look around, unsure how you got here. Sighing, you pull out your phone to check the time. It’s 3:33 in the morning, which means you’re probably a victim of your sleep walking again. 

Sliding your phone back into your pocket, you look up at the sign again. There’s a little blue moon to accompany the pink cursive neon, and though you don’t think you’ve ever seen this bar before, there's a magnetism about it that draws you in. 

Curious, you walk up to the door and go in. The lights are dim and you have trouble seeing at first, but you can make out that there’s a piano in the corner, two booths and a small bar with some stools. A man sits at the bar, his back turned to you. 

“We’re closed,” he grumbles without turning to look at you. You frown, cocking your head as you drink him in. 

The purple suit he wears is an odd choice. His hair is the color of blood, slicked back and a surprisingly nice contrast to the bright color of his suit. A single light flickers above him, painting him in a gold hue.

“What is this place?” you ask, ignoring the fact that it’s closed. 

He doesn’t answer for a second. You think he’s going to ignore you, but finally he says, “Do you have trouble sleeping?” 

You’re surprised by the question. “Yes, actually.” 

“I can help.” 

“Really?” You step further into the bar, watching as he turns to look at you over his shoulder. He is painfully pretty, the kind of beauty that reminds you of old paintings of Lucifer. “How?” 

“Are you accepting my help?” 

Without hesitation you answer, “Yes.” 

His cherry red lips twitch and he shakes his head. Picking up his drink, he polishes it off before standing to turn you fully. The weight of his presence presses down on you like an invisible blanket, weighing you down.

“Of course you do.” He strides toward you and though your instincts tell you to run, something else tells you to stay. He looks down at you with a pair of eyes that threaten to swallow you whole if you let them. His lashes are silky and long, a delicate balance to his heavy gaze. “You always need me, right, Pretty?” 

You nod, a word - a name - buzzing on your tongue as he looms over you. “Please,” you whisper, thoughts a little cottony, a little dizzy. “Seungcheol.”

He grins, revealing sharp teeth. “Hush,” he murmurs. “You’re mine.” 

-

TAG LIST

@ddaddunugu @ourkivee @tie-nn @cherrylovescheol

@cookiearmy @thesunsfullmoon @stray-bi-kids @ldysmfrst

@thepoopdokyeomtouched @avochele @eoieopda @onlywon4u

@hopeless-foolery @iamawkwardandshy

replaced MC au

pairings: MC x brothers (platonic), MC x Purgatory Hall (platonic)

genre: angst

summary: in which there's a new human exchange student

a/n and warnings: some strong language, my spin on the replaced mc au :> not proofread!

pt 2 pt 3 pt 4

you could hear the laughter of the brothers ringing though your ears. well, the laughter of the brothers and the new human exchange student.

diavolo had decided to do another exchange program, considering the first one went quite well despite a few bumps in the journey. this time, there were only one new student from the other two realms. for the devildom, there would be one new human and one new angel.

when hearing of the news, you were quite happy. no, ecstatic even. you could meet a new human who was like you! solomon didn't have any problems adjusting to the devildom since he was a powerful wizard, but when you came, you had no idea of how anything worked.

you thought you and the new human would become best friends, especially since diavolo announced that the new human would stay in the house of lamentation with you. you could guide them through the year and help with whatsoever they needed.

some of the brothers didn't seem too excited though.

levi dreaded meeting new people, "ugh, another normie?" he would groan.

"lucifer, don't tell me i have to take care of this new human too! i've already got a lot on my plate with MC!" mammon complained, as if you weren't the one keeping him out of trouble.

beel would think they had to share more food so he would get less and belphie still kind of resented humans, you and solomon being an exception.

satan didn't seem to care that much though, it was just another human. asmo was quite happy though, maybe he could befriend them and the three of you could dress up and go clubbing.

if lucifer cared, he didn't show it much. he was still in his work mode where he wanted to make sure everything would be prepared.

you were so excited on their day of arrival! a new student, a female human named laila.

she had arrived with diavolo and barbatos at the house of lamentation, barbatos carrying her bags that held her belongings. you figured you would be the first to greet her, lucifer was quietly talking to diavolo at the side.

"hi! welcome to the house of lamentation laila! my name's MC, these are the brothers," you said, gesturing towards the rest.

"nice to meet you, my name is satan," satan introduced himself, being the gentleman he is.

"hi deary! i'm asmodeus, you can call me asmo or anything else you like~"

she smiled and nodded, soft and warm, "hello, my name's laila. i'm from the human realm."

diavolo smiled happily, lucifer returning to join his brothers, "well! i'll leave it to you all then! barbatos and i shall take our leave."

barbatos placed the bags down and left, giving a gentle bow and following after diavolo.

you were the first to help laila, grabbing her bags, showing her to her room and helping her settle in. satan and asmo helped you show her around, telling her about all the fun times and activities that happened in the HOL.

she was kind, wonderful actually. she was so warm and patient, if you didn't know any better, you would have mistook her for the angel exchange student from celestia.

asmo was complimenting her greatly as he always did, talking about how healthy her skin looked and asking what brands she used on her hair. satan would answer the questions she would ask, he read a lot so he knew much more than you did.

the more you talked to her, the more you liked her, it felt as if you met her before.

until dinner that night and it all clicked.

"laila, i was told that you were actually from the same family tree as MC," lucifer announced.

you were surprised, this was your first time ever meeting laila.

"really? i never knew we'd be related!" you exclaimed, looking towards laila who was eating her meal.

the rest of the brothers looked in shock, you thought that it was because laila was in fact somewhat related to you, but that wasn't the case.

laila, but she acted just like lilith, the brothers' dead sister. no wonder the brothers were all so stunned. no wonder they swarmed to her like a moth to a light. well, all the brothers except satan, he didn't know lilith much anyways.

she looked nothing like lilith, but the way she acted, her demeanor, the way she spoke. it was all so similar. you were happy! the brothers would have someone that is related to a person that was once close to them and you would have a relative, be able to find out more about your family tree.

well, at least that was the case at first.

now, as you sat alone in your room, you could hear the brothers and laila having dinner downstairs. they didn't even acknowledge you when you went downstairs to bring you dinner back up to your room. they all had their eyes on laila.

it had been like this for the past few weeks. no, it had been like this for the past few months. whenever you hung out with laila in your room, one of the brothers would conveniently whisk her away, comepletely forgetting about you.

laila on the other hand always asked if you were alright, asking if you wanted to join or telling the boys that she would rather spend time with you and chill.

of course, you weren't one to keep laila from the brothers. even if you did join their little 'adventures', you'd be treated like a side character who would be forgotten.

belphegor would ask her to sing him to sleep sometimes, making sure to cuddle her. there wouldn't be any more space for you in the end.

beel would get her to bake pastries for him since she was practically a master chef. if you bought food from madam scream's, he'd be apparantly 'too full'.

she had the perfect body so asmo would ask her to model for him, doing skincare routines at night together and disregarding your routine that you had together.

she was always learning more about the devildom so satan would offer to teach her, she enjoyed reading books as well. satan would 'have his hands full' while teaching laila when you needed his help for homework.

she wasn't too good at gaming but was patient and willing to learn from leviathan since he'd always ask her to join him, forgetting about your nighttime gaming sessions.

mammon would bring her to the casino with him. she seemed to be extremely lucky too, helping mammon win big numbers. you were no longer his 'lucky charm'.

and of course, she had incredible grades. not missing a single day of class, no tardies at all, always handing in homework when due and getting perfect scores on her tests. lucifer would praise her, you on the other hand would be compared.

"why are your grades dropping? i exepected more from you MC, it seems i've been too lenient."

"sorry MC! laila and i's are goin' to the casino! i don't want you breakin' my lucky streak!"

"huh? MC? oh, i'm busy teaching laila how to play this new game. it's only a two-player game so there's no spot for you."

"i'm teaching laila about devildom history right now, MC. and this question is easy, you'd be able to get the answer if you looked inside your textbooks for once."

"MC? sorry dearie, but i'm bringing laila out shopping with me at this new luxury brand. and i don't think the clothes would suit you anyways."

"madam scream's? i'm a little full MC... i asked laila to make me some pastries just now. huh? oh no, i ate them all. you could eat madam scream's yourself."

"mmm... go away MC, i'm sleeping... there's no space for you here anymore."

as you were lost in thought, trying to complete your homework while letting your food grow cold, you heard your door open.

gazing up from your table, you were greeted with lucifer, arms crossed and having a disappointed look on his face.

"lucifer?"

"MC. i've seen your results on your recent test. why are you doing so horribly these past few months? if you knew you were lacking this much, you should've went to ask laila for some help."

oh, so that's why he came to see you.

"i've just been a little worn out lucifer... please try to understand, it's been... stressful for me, recently," you croaked out. your throat was dry from not drinking enough water and your eyes were tired from analyzing the same passage over and over for you assignment.

"stressful? MC, how are you the one that's stressed? you've been here over a year, that's more than enough time to adjust. laila has been here for less than half that time and she's doing incredible! her grades have been top of the board and she tops it off with perfect attendance. you on the other hand have been failing every single test and have been late for over half your classes."

"lucifer, i'm sorry, i'm just really stressed right no-"

"don't give me that excuse again MC. i'm extremely disappointed in you. why can't you be more like laila? she's a model student and wonderful at not causing me any more stress, you being the cause of it."

you bit the inner of your cheek, trying to stop yourself from frowning as much as you did currently. you were tired. so, so tired.

you stared down at the papers on your desk, trying to ignore the insults lucifer was saying by reading the text.

"lucifer, please, i'm just really tired..."

he ignored you, lecturing you over and over about how your grades weren't 'acceptable' and about how he should have dealt with you.

your tears fell from your eyes as you tried keeping your focus on the papers, fresh tear stains forming on your assignment paper now. you didn't dare look up because you know the look on his face would make you break but you needed to speak your mind.

"can't you just leave me alone?! i've been so fucking tired these days! maybe if you got your head out of your ass, you'd notice that the reason why i'm not doing well is because of you! you and your brothers! i love all of you with my heart but the way you have been treating me these past few months is terrible! and stop comparing me to laila! i know you love her soooo much because she's perfect and practically the reincarnation of lilith, but i'm not her! and of course laila is doing well! unlike her, i was killed within my first few weeks here! and all of you threatened me, telling me i was just some human! don't you remember that?"

lucifer scoffed, staring down at your figure. your voice was loud although you were choking on your words, but not loud enough to overpower the laughter that was apparent downstairs. all of them enjoying themselves while you were expected to sit here and deal with their shit.

your figure shrunk as you let your tears fall freely now, sobbing as your eyes were now unfocused. you could barely see through your tears as you felt lucifer's rage roll off him.

"scoff. blaming others for your faults. pathetic."

finally, he left the room, slamming the door behind him as you flinched at the sound. the loud chatter from the dining room halted for a short moment but continued with joyous laughter.

what was left of your slight appetite was now gone, fatigue filling your body as you let your head fall to your desk while your sobs filled the room.

they could really just forget about you like that, couldn't they? forget that you were the one who helped them mend their relationship as brothers again. forget that you were the one who literally sacrificed your life.

in a fit of rage and sadness, you grabbed your book of spells and slammed it onto the table.

solomon had told you about this before, a spell that was used to help people forget about bad memories, usually used to help victims of trauma forget about what happened. some called it a blessing, some said it was a curse. but as long as it worked, right?

it was simple enough, just write the few given words on the palm of your hand along with your name, then chanting the words written.

if they wanted to forget, then so be it. you'll do the same.

A Little Too Much

inspiration: you were never too much and anyone who says you are should go find less

summary: your boys always got your back, wether it's from someone or the voices in your head

pairing: ot7 x reader

genre: a little angst but not much, a little fluff but not much (maybe too much…), healing journey

word count: 3 k

warning (not detailed): emotional abuse, implied violence [overprotective BTS with a you’re-my-entire-world-and-without-you-life-is-meaningless kind of love]

“What did you just say to her?” Namjoon’s voice was hard as it cut through the hallway. You wanted to peer around the man’s broad shoulders to see him, but the man tightened his grip to keep you in place. Your eyes still flickered back and forth in an effort to catch a glimpse of Namjoon though.

The man tossed Namjoon a look over his shoulder. “She your’s?” He spoke like you were just some procession to own. It was as if you were merely a thing hold. He hadn’t even bothered to look at you when he spoke, reinforcing the idea that you weren’t the one in charge of your own life. When his eyes found you again he was looking at your body. He never did meet your eyes. And that wasn’t out of respect, rather that they didn’t mean anything to him. Not like the rest of your body might.

“Let her go.” Yoongi’s voice rang out. Instead of Namjoon’s deadly, but calm question, Yoongi’s voice was all rage and power. His voice sounded like death personified. You shivered as memories of Yoongi’s dominating voice pass through your head. “I won’t ask again.” It’s like he was making a promise to violence.

You could hear their footsteps echo throughout the empty hall, but they didn’t seem close enough yet. You tried to peak around the man’s shoulder again, but he pushed you back causing your head to hit the wall. You let out a muffled yelp. The man didn’t even look towards you.

He shifted to look towards Namjoon and Yoongi, but didn’t let go of you. Instead he just pulled you along with him as if you were merely a doll that children were fighting over. His grip tightened and you knew that it was going to bruise.

Honestly, the fact that he thought that you were some thing to drag around hurt more than his grip. You felt your shoulders bow inwards. It was like you truly thought that if you were small enough he might forget you were there. You wanted him to let go of you, but you were too scared to move let alone say anything. And your head still hurt from hitting the wall earlier.

It probably wasn’t the best, but you had learned early on in life that men thought that they could take whatever they wanted— that they were entitled to take what they want— and the more you fought the worse it was. So no it wasn’t that you wanted to be in this situation, backed against a wall by a complete stranger, but it had also been ingrained into your head that if you went with it, it would hurt less.

It’s not fair to blame yourself for your trauma responses. It’s not fair to blame yourself for not doing better when you are simply trying to protect yourself in the only way you know how to. Despite that simplicity, it’s something that many people tend to forget.

In that moment you were reminded of a time when you had been taught that you needed to be less. You definitely needed to talk less, but it would also be good if you thought less too.

You hadn’t felt like a person in those moments. You didn’t feel worthy of anything or anyone. You didn’t feel like you were valued. Instead you felt like a thing that would be fought over but quickly tossed aside once they got bored. And you had a feeling that the man currently holding your arm in a bruising grip got bored very easily.

Needless to say that was before meeting the boys who had tried so hard to help you change those thoughts. But here you were, being thrown right back in. It hurts how little control we have over our own thoughts sometimes. It’s so easy to be swallowed up by the past.

You had always been told that you were too much. You were told that your love was suffocating. You were told that you tried too hard and it wasn’t a good look. You were told that you just needed to relax, as if it were ever that simple.

So you had also spent a lot of time trying to be less, all in an effort to make other people feel more comfortable. You shoved all of these pieces of yourself deep down into a tiny box buried within your heart. You could almost pretend like those pieces didn’t exist at all. At the time, you thought that if you pretended to be less, that you might be more likable— more palatable. And deep down all you wanted was to feel accepted. If you had to lose parts of yourself you thought that it may just be worth it.

Overtime, you had started to forget just how special you really were. You had been playing a part for so long that you actually started to believe all those toxic voices in your heard. The ones that would twist your reality and punish you for taking up space. You had begun to lose your sense of wonder and tended to see the world in more black and white than color.

You had started to feel like less of a person and more of a thing to be controlled.

And before you truly realized it, you were the one feeling uncomfortable, but no one else seemed to mind. No one had tried to make you feel comfortable despite you trying so hard for others. You weren’t comforted or hugged because that would require others to care about you, or at the very least notice.

Instead you were shoved to the side so people could pretend like you weren’t hurting. People don’t like to think about the fact that others are living their own lives, especially when people are in pain. For some reason, other people’s pain is an unbelievably uncomfortable thing for people to sit with; however, that really shouldn’t be a surprising revelation.

It wasn’t until the boys crashed into your life that your perspective changed. Since then the seven of them had made it their mission to fight off anything that told you should be less. Sometimes it ended in physical fights with the people who haunted your past. Other times, they had to settle for comforting words and cuddles in an effort to fight the voices in your head. For them, both were equally important.

They never wanted to you to feel uncomfortable again. They wanted to you to feel safe and happy, but they especially wanted you to feel safe and happy with them. Bonus points if it was while in their arms.

You flinched when the man behind you abruptly shoved you towards Yoongi and Namjoon, causing you to trip over your feet and fall forwards. They both lunged for you. He tried to run but you didn’t even bother looking, choosing to wrap your arms around Namjoon, who had reached you first. You buried your head in his neck and his arms tightened around your waist. You felt him press a soft kiss to the top of your head; it was a stark contrast to the harshness of the past half an hour.

With his arms around you, you felt safe. You always did with the boys. When they hold you, you feel like nothing could harm you. You liked to think that their hugs gave you bullet proof skin.

You could hear the man yelling behind you and Hoseok’s and Jin’s loud voices, but you decided you liked hiding in Namjoon’s embrace much more than facing whatever reality awaited you.

You’ve seen Hoseok’s deadly right hook before. You can imagine Jimin’s sadistic smirk as he plays with his switchblade. And Jin will be donning that unemotional mask that he likes to use to scare the people who threaten you. There is nothing as terrifying as not knowing what is going on in someone’s head.

Besides, Namjoon didn’t seem to mind holding you. If anything his grip tightened when the yelling started like he knew that the loud voices might upset you. So you held him tighter too.

You didn’t flinch like you normally would if you were to feel a hand rub along your spine, but it was gentle. And you think that deep down, when your being held by one of the boys, you know that they would never let any harm come to you. It’s not that you think that they would when you’re not in their arms, but you know they would never let anyone else close enough to touch you when you’re in their embrace. Well, anyone besides them that is.

They really are that possessive.

Taehyung pulls you out of Namjoon’s embrace who leaves an apologetic kiss on your forehead before heading over towards the others.

“Sweetheart, let’s go wait in the car.” Taehyung coaxes you towards the car while holding you to his chest like he’s worried that if one of them isn’t holding you, you might fall apart. He isn’t completely sure what happened before Yoongi and Namjoon got here, but he isn’t willing to take any chances.

None of them are when it comes to you, and your safety.

Jungkook is waiting in the car when the two of you get there. He quickly pulls you out of Taehyung’s embrace and further into the car. Well, more like into his lap. Your legs straddle his waist as you bury your face into his chest. You feel his chest rumble with his soft laughter and his hands come up to cradle your head and neck. You’re willing to bet that he’s trying to silently ask Taehyung if you’re okay over your head.

“Princess” Jungkook calls for your attention and you reluctantly look up at him. It’s not that you don’t love looking at his doe eyes, but you really loved hiding in his chest. Especially when he is laughing. “Let us take care of you, yeah?”

You love that he knows not to ask you if you’re okay. He can already guess that you’re not. And he doesn’t need you to confirm that for him.

You love that he doesn’t force you to talk about anything even though you are sure that he wants answers. He prioritizes your needs over the answers that may make him more comfortable. In that moment his comfort isn’t the one that matters.

Jungkook also knows that you aren’t used to having people to rely on. Too many people have told you that you’re emotions are too much and that you need to tone it down. So he knows that you may not want to rely on him, too worried about what they may think of you, but he also wants to smother those voices.

If he could physically touch those toxic voices they would already have broken necks.

“You can feel however you want to feel, Sweetheart.” Jungkook nods at Tae’s words. It hurts them to see the traces of emotional abuse that you’ve experienced. And it really hurts that they know that they’ll never be able to completely remove those thoughts. However, that doesn’t stop them from doing everything in their power to minimize those voices and provide as much reinforcement as they can.

“Princess.” Jungkook waits until you meet his eyes so you can see how serious he is. “You were never too much. And you never could be too much. I’m so sorry that people made you think that and that they turned your mind against you.” He presses a kiss to your temple as if it could heal your mind. It was something that the boys had all told you before, but you felt your heart swell every time they said it. It was probably why they kept telling you; they could see the way that their words impacted you.

“He’s right, Sweetheart. It was never your fault. We get that it’s really hard to acknowledge that, especially when it’s so much easier to blame ourselves. But it was never you.” His hands run up and down your spine and the repetitive movement makes you a little sleepy. But you can’t help but feel comforted by them.

“We know that it’s hard to believe that, but we’ll always be here to remind you.” Jungkook and Taehyung look at you with such determination that it makes some of those toxic voices in your head go quiet because when they look at you like that it makes you think that they’re right. It makes you think that it was never your fault no matter how many times you were told that it was.

You aren’t ready to fully believe that, the abuse has penetrated your mind too deeply for it all just to go away, but the more time you spend with your boys the more that you’re starting to see it the way that they do. It fills you with hope so even though you know that you’re not healed, you know that you are healing.

It is one of the most wonderful feelings in the world.

The boys wish that they could make it all go away with the snap of their fingers. They wish that they were able to fix all of your problems and remove any and all barriers to your happiness, but they also know that there are somethings that they can’t just fix for you. So, in those cases they stand by you, hold you, and encourage you because no matter what they will always be there to support you. They’re ten toes behind no matter what.

You smile at his words and pull your gaze away from Jungkook’s to smile at Taehyung. You watch him visibly brighten at your smile like you just gave him a shot of dopamine. They love when you smile. And most of the time, when you smile they can’t help but smile too. They will do whatever they can to make you smile like that.

You deserve the world and they would gladly serve it to you.

The others slide into the car with tense shoulders and angry expressions. When you spin around in Jungkook’s lap to see them, you swear that Jimin has blood on the cuffs of his dress shirt but before you can look closer he’s pulling you out of Jungkook’s lap and into his. “Baby, you scared me.”

You want to reassure him, but you aren’t quite sure how to explain yourself. Instead, you hug him back even tighter. He smiles into your neck which makes you smile too. It’s funny how despite everything Jimin can make you smile so easily. You love that he’s able to make you smile because you can remember a time when even smiling was exhausting. Now though, now it feels effortless around your seven boys.

“Let’s go home, Love.” Jin’s voice pulls your attention away from Jimin. He’s sitting in the passenger seat but turns around to look at you. You watch his eyes rake across your body checking to make sure you’re okay. You love that Jin never tries to hide how much he cares about you. He never tries to minimize his love for you.

He wants you to know that he wants you to be okay. And he would do anything to ensure it.

The boys let you live in your own little bubble for a while longer, but you also know that they’ll want to talk to you. They will want to check in with you because they know that in the past people haven’t cared enough to ask.

They never want you to feel like that again so they always make sure to check in with you. They never want you to suffer in silence ever again, not when they can do something about it. Some might call it overbearing, but they would do whatever they need to ensure that you feel seen. And until you ask them to stop they never will.

You remember asking Hoseok about it once, wondering why they were so protective. It had been when you were first getting to know them. He explained that everyone deserves to feel safe and protected. But he also told you that he likes feeling needed by you. He likes being able to protect you.

Not that he told you this, but the boys also love that shy look you get when one of them steps in or has your back because you haven’t quite realized that they’ll always defend you. A part of him wants to cry for you because someone made you feel like you were alone and that you didn’t have anyone to protect you. So no one can really blame the boys for going overboard. At least that’s what Yoongi always says with a smug smirk, but you catch the way his eyes soften whenever he looks at you.

It is difficult to find the balance between giving you space and never making you question if they care. They want to reassure you, but they also don’t want to overwhelm you. The eight of you are slowly finding that balance, but it’ll take some time.

You secretly love it though. Before the boys, people never showed that they cared so maybe it’s a little toxic, but you have your reasons. You love their overprotective nature that never wants you out of their sight because you’re their whole world. You love that they want to do everything for you, not because you can’t, but because they want to. You love that they will be at your side as soon as you ask because it’s their favorite place to be.

But in that moment of peace on the car ride home, you hug Jimin closer. You close your eyes and let yourself take a moment to see how you really feel because for the first time in your life you know that those feelings are valid. You no longer have to second guess or dull them so others aren’t uncomfortable. You know that the boys will accept you regardless.

You will never be too much for your boys and that makes you feel like you could do anything. You think, with them by your side, you could conquer the world.

CHANTAJE! (xxiv)

SUMMARY: being under the watchful eye of the media and your fans, your managers are in desperate need of regaining back your popularity after other influencers who hate you cause mayhem to your life. what best way to do so by having you pretend to be in a relationship with the popular 7 who are known to be intensely wealthy and stoic? will you be able to regain their trust or will they go with their promise of damaging your reputation even more?

WARNING(S) FOR LATER: gore/blood/murder, harassment/bullying, mental health talks (nothing badly triggering), child endangerment (mc was a child actor, again nothing badly triggering. if there is, there will be a warning)

NOTE: playing l&ds im so close to writing imagines of them omg

TAGLIST (CLOSED): @parapiop7 @an-ever-angry-bi @softforyoongles @thenaverse @chansatlan @juju-227592 @skyys-universe @carolinexkpop @reallysparklychaos @namjooncrabs @savagemickey03 @drunkzseok @svnbangtansworld @2ne1unni

“You shouldn’t even be up.”

You turned your head to the side to see Hoseok, Jimin, and Yoongi with bags in their hands. You frowned at the groceries in confusion and simply stared.

“Why are you bringing groceries?” You asked, turning to open your fridge to see if they had come across it. But, much to your relief, the fridge wasn’t entirely empty. “I’m fine.”

Snorting at your words, Yoongi placed the bags on your kitchen counter while simultaneously taking away the knife you were using to cut the apple you wanted to eat. He gracefully took over.

“Go sit your ass down,” he said with a voice as soft as his hands, which you felt when he grabbed the knife away.

You huffed and, with a leg raised, hopped away towards the table in the kitchen that Min-seo usually sat by to eat during her lunch. You quietly sat, and the boys could see your dramatics were at a high due to the pout on your lips still stuck there after 3 minutes passed.

Hobi, having made eye contact with Jimin who was staring at you, tilted his head your way. Jimin frowned, mouthing a “What?” to state his confusion, his eyes watching Hoseok’s lips move.

“Go talk to her,” Hobi mouthed again, getting closer to him to nudge him on the side.

Jimin pursed his lips at coming to understand what he was saying and rapidly shook his head.

He glanced at the back of your head and wondered. What would he talk to you about? Your kiss again? Maybe. That should be something interesting to talk about considering you can’t even look at him without panicking. He can see your body tense when he’s near and he can feel your body heat warming him up if he even dares brush his arm against yours. He can read you so easily and you don’t even know about it.

With one last push, Jimin staggers off and sits on the chair next to you, softly clearing his throat.

You tense beside him, he noticed. Your fingers lightly twitched as soon as he leaned back against his chair, legs slightly spread with his hands resting on his thighs.

“If I give you another kiss will you look at me?” He muttered under his breath with almost a breathy tone. He couldn’t help but admit to himself that he missed the way your lips brushed against his and the way your fingers intertwined itself with the strands of his hair. Your lips fit so perfectly with his he yearned for more. “It’s just an option.”

“I will stand up and walk on my hurt foot if you continue,” you threatened, looking at him.

He smiled with his eyes in satisfaction at being able to have you look at him.

“Do it,” he said with a shrug. “It’s going to hurt you more than it’s going to hurt me.”

“I’m going to bite you,” you retorted back, eyes squinted. You could see he thought you were bluffing but, you weren’t. So, you stood up on your hurt ankle, and walked away from him. He watched you and the way you didn’t even flinch that much being on your foot.

He shook his head, standing up to grab you.

His hands made their way under your knees, the other going around your waist, and he squatted down a bit to pick you up better.

“Shut the fuck up and stay still,” he warned, sitting down on his chair with you on his lap. He shook his head to the side to get rid of the strand of hair blocking his view, and he couldn’t help but look at you.

He bit his lower lip, his eyes becoming slightly hooded and dark at the idea of being so close to you. He could grab the back if your head and bring you closer and closer until your lips were hovering over his. He could feel the need of his tongue to explore your mouth and feels yours and he could feel the need of having you straddle him again. How beautiful you would look with that dazed expression on your face after having kissed him. He loved it.

“Jimin, be careful with her,” Yoongi mumbled loud enough for him to hear across the room. Jimin glanced at the man over his shoulder and hummed to let him know he was listening. He knew he should be careful with you, so he placed a hand on your thigh and let it run up and down in a comforting manner.

Fuck that comfortable manner, though, because his touch made you tense up. You didn’t know if it was because his legs were flexing under you or the fact his chest was slightly exposed due to the buttons of dress shirt being unbuttoned. He was looking off to the side to look at the food Yoongi and Hobi were making and you were looking at his side profile.

His lips, his plump lips, the ones that were soft and warm and wet against yours, were parted to talk, and his eyes were like stars under the warm light in your kitchen that gave off such a nice vibe to you all.

His touch was distracting you.

“Here,” you snapped out of your thoughts to look up at Hobi bringing you a smoothie he made. He had a teasing smile on his face as he looked at you. “Just to cool you down.”

“I-” You could only let out, noticing he glanced at Jimin to make sure he wasn’t looking so he could wink at you. You waved him off and downed the smoothie.

But of course, Jimin grabbed it off your hands after you took a couple of sips, and grabbed it with one of his hands while the other still maintained its spot on your thigh. He held you tight so you wouldn’t slip off and it made your mind go crazy and quiet.

His lips touched the part you sipped from and you swore your heart sped up to the point you could hear it thundering in your ears.

Could he hear it, too?

“This is good, right?” Jimin asked after he gulped down the drink. He looked down at you with his brows furrowed as he savored the taste. “I like it.”

“Yeah,” you replied with a nod. You looked at Hobi over the cup he was drinking from again. “It’s great, Hobi.”

Hobi smiled. “Thank you!” He backed away so you could see the ingredients. “I can make you a strawberry and banana smoothie or a blueberry smoothie. Just let me know whenever you want one so I can make it.”

“I’ll hire you as my personal chef,” you said, grabbing the cup away from Jimin’s hand to take another sip. “It’s so good.”

“It’s just a smoothie guys,” Hoseok snorted out, waving off your compliments. He eyed you and Jimin with an amused look. Even Yoongi was hiding his smile behind his hair as he looked down at the cutting board. “Why don’t you guys stay in the living room? We’ll come get you once we finish dinner.”

“Since you say so.”

You couldn’t even take another sip of the smoothie before Jimin picked you up again without any hesitation.

“What the hell?” You gaped, holding onto his neck. You wouldn’t be surprised if he dropped you. He had the stupid habit of playing with you and teasing you, so you didn’t want to take any chances.

As he sat down, much to your surprise, he kissed you.

You gasped in surprised and stayed in shock before feeling the way his fingers dug into the flesh of your skin, the the tips of his fingers leaving small dents behind.

He kissed you and you hoped, wished if anything, that he couldn’t hear your heart beating so fast it was overwhelming you.

He kissed you. And he kissed you like he needed you so desperately. He kissed you like as if you were his last salvation, as if kissing you was all he needed in order to breathe.

The way he moved, the way he held you, the way he made sure you were comfortable was enough to cause your brain to freeze. You were falling hard. You were falling hard for all of the men who wove their way into your heart until they held your heart tightly into their hand and you didn’t even give a single fuck. This would either end in the worst heartbreak you ever experienced, or they were willing to work the relationship out with you, and it scared the crap out of you.

You didn’t have a good nor a bad relationship in your life, you’ll admit that. Those relationships just lacked the emotional and physical connection you yearned for and here you had it in front of you now. It’s not just Jungkook, Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jimin who have made you feel this way. The way Hobi made you smile in his text messages and the way he made sure to check on you made you connect with him even deeper. He made his way into your heart with the way his smile lit up whatever place he was in. He was so beautiful.

Yoongi was a protector and you could see that. He didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, but he did love showing you what he felt through his actions. He may never tell you he was worried about you straight up, but he will offer to make dinner for you like he was doing now. He was more in tune with showing his care through his actions more than his words.

And Jin. He was the nicest one since the beginning. And though you haven’t had a moment alone with him due to his hectic schedule, he loved texting you random text messages that cheered you on. He loved being able to text you a message that sparked your heart and your emotions because you have never had someone send you a message of encouragement. He always did that.

Could loving these men be your biggest blessing or your worst nightmare? After all, they had a contract with you. One year to be exact and then after, you would be gone. Was it worth it? Will it be worth it?

Jimin kissed you and you kissed him back with an emotion he knew too well. You were scared just like they were.

As you separated, he placed his forehead against yours, your breaths intertwining and your lips brushing against each others. His eyes were looking at you, inspecting your every move and the way your chest heaved up and down just like his due to the lack of oxygen.

“I feel like I’m making you cheat on them,” you mumbled, your fingertips touching your lips.

He smiled reassuringly and shook his head. “They wouldn’t have told me to come here with you.”

“They know?”

“More than you know.”

Yoongi and Hobi walked with you on your garden. Yes, walked. They made sure they were walking slow with you and begging you to head inside but, you were too stubborn to listen so they made sure you were okay.

It was night already, the stars were twinkling, and the moon was not full this time like usual, you noticed. It was so thin you could only see it if you focused hard and you were focusing really hard.

Silence enveloped you three, and the boys could see your hesitation to speak up about something that was clearly troubling you due to the fact you were staring at the moon like it was her fault that you were walking. You were having a stare down with the moon they got chills on their arms.

Glancing at each other with expressions of amusement, they decided it was their time to break the silence, fully knowing that you most likely will not talk about your overbearing and will shut down instead.

“You don’t have to worry, you know?” Yoongi reassured you with a hushed voice, almost as if he spoke any louder he would wake up the rest of your neighbors. “Whatever fear you have, whatever thought you’re overthinking about, don’t let it cloud your brain from seeing what’s in front of you.”

“And what’s in front of me?” You muttered, giving him a look, clearly surprised his words were correlating with what you were overthinking about.

“People who notice you.”

You frown and stop in front of them. They could see the way your brows furrowed together in confusion and in clear conflict because whatever you were thinking about was making you fidgety. Of course they knew, though, they just didn’t know the full specifics. They had an idea on what you were thinking about, nothing more than that.

“How are you guys okay with your jealousy?” You asked, looking at them under your lashes.

The men glanced at each other.

“It’s all about boundaries,” Hobi answered with a nonchalant shrug. “Stating what we’re fine with and what you’re not. For example, if we’re satisfied enough with the people we have in our relationship, we would never seek for you, much less any other person. But, we’re open to the idea of adding in one more person.”

“What does that have—”

“If any of us kissed you,” Hobi continued, understanding what you were trying to ensue by now due to how you were quiet when you and Jimin came to eat, “we wouldn’t mind.”

“But why?” You asked.

Yoongi hid his smile, hands buried in the front pockets of his baggy jeans. “You really haven’t noticed, huh?” You shook your head. “Really? You haven’t taken a hint when Namjoon kisses you even when there’s no cameras, when Jimin kisses you and can’t stop touching you, when Jungkook and Taehyung can’t be away from you, and when me, Hobi, and Jin text you and call you 24/7 when we’re not too keen on texting or calling? Not even when we came here to make you food because we got worried you weren’t eating well?”

“I just…” You stammered out before letting out a small scoff. “I just thought you were friendly. You guys know I’m not good at this. I’m not good at taking hints.”

“When you get in relationships,” Yoongi began as you three paused to look at each other, “do you get with them because you like them or because they ask you?”

“Because they ask me,” you answered. Yoongi sighed and Hobi pinched the bridge of his nose. “What?”

“You’ve never thought about wanting to be with them because you like them or because you feel genuine feelings for them?” Hobi asked, raising a brow, hands crossed over his chest.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to,” you explained. You pursed your lips and shrugged. “It’s just every time I liked someone, genuinely liked someone, they either did me wrong or were just with me to get fame. I broke it off kindly enough and they acted like it was fine so… I believed we ended things in a good way.”

“Oh, you sweet poor innocent angel,” Hobi breathed out, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He brings you closer to him. “You never end things in a good way with someone you were with just for money. It never ends in that way, especially in their eyes. They’ll most likely come back into your life unexpectedly and wishing to get back together.”

You froze.

That explains a lot.

Nervously chuckling, you looked at the two men and sheepishly smiled. “Um, then I think my ex-boyfriend wants to get back together.”

“What?” Yoongi frowned.

“He’s been sending me text messages that he wants to see me because he misses me,” you said, scratching the back of your neck. “I just ignored him because I don’t miss him.”

Yoongi snorted at your words. You truly meant them. “I’ll deal with him. Just send me his phone number, though.”

“Yeah, I’ll send it later when you guys are leaving.” The two men nod in satisfaction at your words, beginning to walk again with you stuck between them, though now you’re closer to Hoseok. Very close. “Do you guys genuinely like me?”

“Do you?”

Did you? You’ve never heard that question get repeated back to you. You’ve never had anyone care about your feelings rather romantically like this.

Did you like them?

You smile the hardest when they’re around. You do laugh more, too. Not to forget that kissing Jimin and Namjoon makes you so dumbfounded as if kissing them shuts off your brain.

Did you?

Hobi smiled, understanding your silence for one that said a lot more than what you were saying.

“Yes,” you muttered. “I genuinely like you guys. I’m just nervous I won’t be enough in your relationship, especially since all of you have known each other far longer than I have known you. What if I’m just a burden?”

“Don’t worry your pretty head about that. Making yourself overthink over a situation that hasn’t happened yet will drive you crazy so, just trust us, okay?”

You hesitated, but you knew you could. They gave you enough reasons to do so.

Heading back home, you three eyed Jimin drying his hands on a cloth you left out for him. He had been left with the duty of washing the dishes after you ate and you were happy with that.

He eyed you three back.

“So, she won’t leave once the contract ends?” He muttered, never straying his eyes away from you.

“I talked with Jin and Namjoon before coming here,” Yoongi explained. He sat down on the chair near your kitchen island and raised his hands to pull up the sleeves of his sweater. “They don’t want her gone either. For all of our sanity.”

“Sanity?” You gaped at them.

“Taehyung might be going crazy because he really wants to be with you intimately and emotionally,” Jimin snorted out. He was amused by the way Taehyung was acting and the way he was handling his emotions for you. “He’s the one who’s been overthinking about you leaving once the contract ends and that’s why he’s been wanting to be closer to you.”

“Aw,” you jutted out your bottom lip at thinking about Taehyung’s attitude towards you. “I want to see him now.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, pretty,” Jimin said, the nickname slipping off the tip of his tongue very easily. Almost as if he has been calling you that name since forever. “He and Jungkook can’t know about this right now. They both have been a bit of a… mess. Taehyung more. If he finds out that we have pursued you—”

“‘Pursued’ is crazy,” you teased, a light giggling escaping your mouth.

Jimin playfully rolled his eyes. “Anyway, if he finds out we are with you and you know we like you, he will not stop. He will immediately come here and will not let you go.”

“But that’s what I want,” you slightly whined in a tone that had the three get closer to you.

Jimin stood in front of you, his hand placed on your cheek. He was mimicking your pout. “Yeah? You want Taehyung to be here with you and kiss you and mark you and clearly never leave your side because he feels so safe with you?” You stare at him and he smiled, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. “Hmm?”

“He wants to do that?”

“Badly.”

You gulped. “Never mind. We’ll wait.”

“Good girl,” Jimin said with a chuckle. He glanced down at his watch. “We’ll talk more tomorrow about this, okay?” You nodded. “Though, I’m carrying you up to your room before we leave.”

“That’s not—”

“I’m not listening to you,” Jimin scoffed out, picking you up in his arms. Your legs wrapped around his waist and one of his hands was placed under your ass to prevent you from slipping.

“I feel like a big baby,” you grumbled.

“That’s what you are with the attitude you give me sometimes,” he retorted back, his eyes glancing down to your lips.

The other two behind you laughed.

“Goodnight, Y/n,” Yoongi said, grabbing his keys while waving at you.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, angel,” Hobi sang, wiggling his fingers goodbye. He chuckled once you waved back just as enthusiastically.

Once you two were alone, Jimin looked at you before looking away with a ghost of a smile plastered on his face.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he simply stated.

“What?”

“Having you trust me again,” he replied, going up the steps of your stairs. “I know I was an asshole and I hope to make it up to you by taking you out to the park again.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “We’ll go with Jungkook the day after tomorrow. I know Jin wants to talk to you tomorrow since he hasn’t spent a lot of time with you.”

“Mhm.”

“So, I’ll pick you up.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

He places you on your bed and since you were already in some comfy pj’s—they did come over at night—he placed the blanket over you.

He looked at you and he couldn’t get enough of you looking at him with such pretty eyes that if you found out the power of puppy eyes, he was sure he would burn the world for you. In other words, he would do anything you say and ask of him.

“Ji—”

He kissed you before you could utter his name.

And he kissed you hard and passionately it took you by surprise.

He loved kissing you, you noticed. He loved touching you, and kissing you, and holding your face in his hands so he could feel the warmth of your face at the shyness you felt.

He moved with you and let his lips brush against yours when you would back up from lack of air, but he would have your lips back on his once he couldn’t take no more of being away from you.

Backing away one more time with a singular saliva string attached on both your lips, he swore he could’ve moaned right then and there.

He was falling hard for you. He was. He definitely was. How could a person look so beautiful like you?

He didn’t know, but he felt blessed.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Latibule Season 2: V

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: BTS is 7.

Masterlist, Latibule 2.IV

“You’re finally awake,” a familiar, gentle voice on your right remarked.

You slowly turned to the direction of the voice, your eyes were slow to adjust from the sudden brightness of the white and sterile room. You could make out a man with a tall form, and even with the little vision you were left, you were sure you have seen this man before.

You blinked owlishly, clearing out the sleep from your eyes and little by little, your vision cleared out as best as it could. When it finally did, your breath hitched from the recognition of who this man was.

The man who claimed to have lost his cat years ago– Suga’s hyung.

He smiled at you when a stark recognition crossed your face.

“I never thought we’d see each other again,” he chuckled from his seat, on his lap was your chart. “Let alone in this circumstance."

You quickly sat up. Only now did you feel a restriction form your left hand. Your other hand was quick to reach out, feeling the dextrose drip attached to your skin. You turned to him with caution in your movement, memories of what transpired before this rushing into you.

He found you and he was going to end you.

“W-where am I?” trying to steady your trembling voice and muster some courage.

Seokjin tilted his head to the side. If he noticed your trembling, he did not mention. Apparently, he was content with observing you with almost scientific curiosity. “You’re in my hospital,” he replied.

He followed your eyes as you tried your very best to see what this room was, your eyes drifting across the whole room as though you were looking for something.

“Are you looking for Yoongi?” he asked when enough silence passed with you looking like you were ready to bolt in any given moment. You were sure that

Your refusal to answer was an answer in itself. Your silence spoke volumes.

Seokjin’s relaxed demeanor was just adding up to your nervousness. Why was he not doing anything, you wondered? You were sure that he was a part of whatever shady business Suga was part of. It was impossible that he was not aware of that. After all, they did seem close and they were brothers. The correlation alone was enough to make you be wary of him despite the friendly act of his.

“He’s outside the room,” Seokjin shared with lightness in his words. He chose not to divulge that his younger brother was literally just outside the room, standing guard as though someone was going to take you from him. Worse, that you would disappear right under his nose had he left his pose. “Wanna know why? Apparently, he, and I quote, ‘cannot bear to see the frightened look his angel gave him’.”

“Do you want to see him?”

“I want to leave.”

He stood up calmly and proceeded to check and adjust your dextrose. “Don’t move this hand too much. You’re going to bleed,” he advised, murmuring under his breath how Yoongi was going to hurt him if you were hurt under his care. He also noted how none of his brothers treated him with the respect the eldest should be given. Also, he grumbled about how he kept on feeding them despite their disrespect.

It wasn’t lost on you how he didn’t answer nor acknowledge what you said.

He fished a penlight from his white coat, “I’m just going to check your eyes, Y/N,” he said as he turned the penlight on and instructed you to open your eyes. “Minimal reaction to light,” he murmured to himself before writing down on your chart. “When did this happen?”

“Should I answer?”

“That’s alright. I’ll just check with Doctor Choi-“

“How did you know my doctor?” you asked in aghast. Did their hold know no bound? If not, how then would he know something of confidential matter?

“Hmm?” he moved away from you slowly, his eyes comically wide and his hands raised as though in retreat. It would have been funny had you not been sure that he was one of the bad men you despised so much. “Y/N, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You squinted your eyes at his retreating form. The room that you were in seemed to be ridiculously large and despite the number of steps he was taking, he was still far from the door.

“I swear I don’t know. But also, while we are in the topic of things I certainly do not know and have absolutely no way of knowing, I also have no knowledge of the scar on your stomach that suspiciously do not look like a cesarean scar.”

---

Seokjin jumped from shock when Yoongi stepped in front of him as soon as he exited the room. “I’m going to die early because of my own brothers,” he grumbled in irritation, clutching your chart to his chest. “I can’t go without seeing my sunshine one more time.”

“How is she?”

“Hey, hyung! Have you eaten, hyung? Thank you for staying up all night to take care of the love of my life. I owe you one, hyung. You’re just the best, hyung. You’re so handsome, hyung– really?! Is that so hard to say those things?!” Seokjin finished, his heavy breath a telltale sign of his agitation.

“Let’s just go ahead and pretend I said those things. Anyway, how is she?” Yoongi asked, his face couldn’t hide the exhaustion from staying up all night and refusing to leave despite his assurance that you would be fine under Seokjin’s care. His face was even paler than normal.

He didn’t even leave his post to eat that he had to call the only available brother (and not even his second nor third choice, but his last resort), Kim Taehyung, to disguise himself and come to the hospital with food. Taehyung then had to force the other brother to eat at least two spoonsful of rice.

Taehyung was rarely denied by Yoongi, so maybe Seokjin chose the right brother for this task. Never mind the fact that he was later on kicked out by Yoongi because he kept on looking closely and taking notes of the way he was acting because he said that it would be useful for his next movie character.

“Hopeless. All of you are hopeless-“

“You are, too. How’s your sunshine, by the way?” Yoongi shot back and despite his lack of sleep, his words were sharp as ever.

“I don’t know where she is, okay!? Why are you hurting me like this?!” he asked dramatically, childishly glaring at him. “I hate you! If you want to know how your Angel is, you better ask her yourself!”

Seokjin walked away, his steps quick and his white coat was trailing behind him which further added to his dramatics. A paid actor, if you would.

“I…I can’t, hyung,” Yoongi admitted behind him. The quietness of the hospital wing was enough for him to hear his younger brother’s vulnerability. Further, it was just enough to stop him from walking away.

“Yoongi, you little shit, what do you really want to happen?”

Yoongi sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping in a rare display of weakness. The image of the strong, composed leader seemed to dissolve in the face of his fear. The man who was usually a pillar of strength was now showing vulnerability. It was true what they said—even the strongest man falls to his knees for the woman he loves.

“Hyung,” he started, his voice low and his dark eyes down casted to the floor. “I just want her to be well. I want her to get back the life she had before I destroyed it. I want her to have a chance at normalcy. She deserves it. She deserves peace-”

 “She will be well.”

“How can you even be sure, hyung?” his voice, despite hinting a bit of hope still held despair. “You didn’t see her like I did. She was so…far from who she was.”

Seokjin smirked, “Because I said so. Now that that is out of the way, what do you really want? What’s really in that disgusting thingy you so fondly called a heart?”

Yoongi looked at him, his eyes held a certain darkness Seokjin was all too familiar with. He stood up straight, a strand of his hair fell to his face as he scoffed, “Her.”

He chuckled before leveling him with a serious stare. “Then go and get her.”

---

Your breath hitched when the door opened and your steps haltered.

Coincidentally, you knew who it was before he could even make it two steps inside the room. Even with your eyes failing you, you could never not know who he was. The sound of the door clicking shut behind him was unmistakable.

This was the moment of truth, you realized. This was your nightmares all and simultaneously coming to life.

You took a hesitant step back as his shoes made a sound. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat louder and more frantic than the last.

“You shouldn’t be walking around just yet, Angel,” he admonished quietly, and by doing so, effectively broke the silence between the two of you. You had never forgotten how his voice sounded like despite attempting your very best to erase his existence from your memories. You had never forgotten how deep his voice sounded like, nor how to tell what he was feeling by the timbre of his voice alone.

Despite all that, you couldn’t help but feel something when you heard his voice,

The anxiety was almost suffocating that your breaths came out short and quick. “W-why am I here?”

“You lost consciousness, Angel.”

You stepped back when you heard his voice nearer. Unlike back home, you didn’t know the layout of the room like the back of your hand. You were utterly and truly helpless in his presence. You only had yourself this time. “I want to leave.”

“You need to get treated, Angel-”

“I want to leave!” you screamed at him, your hands now shaking uncontrollably from having to face the person who destroyed your world.

“Angel, calm down,” he implored, worry apparent in his voice but you didn’t care. It didn’t matter what he felt. You wanted him gone. You wanted to get away from this situation. You wanted to go home where everything was familiar. You wanted to hold your son again. You wished he never found you again. You wished that you could just wake up from this nightmare and back to your life.

Suddenly, the back of your leg collided with something solid, and you lost your footing. The room tilted as you fell, the moment drawn out, weightless—until strong arms caught you before you hit the ground. His reflexes, honed from years of instinct, were faster than gravity.

You were in his arms again.

For a breathless moment, you were in his arms again. Your body stiffened immediately, every muscle tensing in protest. Panic flared hot in your chest, overwhelming every sense. The touch you had once welcomed now filled you with terror. You shoved at him, desperate to get away.

“Don’t touch me!” Your voice was sharp, trembling with fear, and you struggled to free yourself, needing to break the contact. He loosened his grip, and you stumbled back to the floor, but his eyes never left yours.

“You’re scared of me…” he said in horrifying realization. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever want you of all people to be terrified of him when he had been nothing but gentle to you. Not when you looked at him before like he held all the answers and hang all the stars in the sky- too opposite of how now your eyes never left his in terror that he would do something terrible to you. Now, your wide, terrified gaze was locked on him as though he were something dangerous, something monstrous that might strike at any moment. The realization seemed to tear him apart, slowly, painfully.

“I-I’d never hurt you,” he stammered, his voice shaky with desperation as if each word might be the last thread keeping him tethered to something he no longer understood. “You have to know that Angel–”

“Don’t call me that,” you cut him off, your voice harsh as you pulled yourself further away, dragging yourself from his reach, from his proximity. And inching toward any corner. The endearment that had once meant so much now felt like an insult, a reminder of everything he had taken from you. His very presence was a wound you were desperate to escape, a scar you could never heal while he was near.

He recoiled at your words, the pain in his eyes deepening as if the rejection physically hurt him. "Please... I’d never—"

"Stop." Your voice shook as you raised a hand, as though the very sound of his voice was too much. "You don’t get to talk like that. You don’t get to act like you weren’t planning to use me and kill me the first chance you got."

A deafening, soul-crushing silence settled over the room, so thick and oppressive it felt like you could choke on it. The accusation hung in the air, heavy, suffocating, leaving no room for either of you to breathe. His face went blank, as if every emotion had been stripped away in an instant, leaving behind only a hollow shell. His eyes searched yours, trying to find something, some trace of the person you used to be, the person who used to believe in him.

If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he already left. His presence felt ghostly, his body frozen as if he couldn’t bear the weight of your words.

“Is that why you are so scared of me? Is that why you let me believe that you were dead?” he asked lowly, disbelief apparent in his tone. Was all the agony he endured because of a misunderstanding, a mistake on his part?

Your heart skipped a beat. What?

He believed that you were dead?

"What are you talking about?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper, confusion mixing with the fear that still pulsed through your veins.

Suga took a shaky breath. If you could see him, you’d see the tears pooling in his eyes, glistening as they threatened to fall. His gaze never wavered, locked onto yours, a painful mixture of sadness and confusion reflected in the depths of his eyes. “T-that night, Angel, you disappeared. We couldn’t find you anywhere. You just…vanished without a trace-” he paused, swallowing hard as if the memory was too painful to relive. “Everyone said that you died. Everyone told me that it would be impossible for you to survive that fire, not after the wounds you got. I never believed them. You must understand. I searched for you—years, Angel. Years of believing I lost you forever."

Your stomach twisted as his words settled in. The intensity of his gaze, the genuine anguish in his voice—it was as if he truly believed what he was saying. He had spent all this time believing you were gone, that you had died. But how? Why?

None of this made sense.

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of disbelief clouding your mind. Your heart pounded in your chest, and your pulse roared in your ears as you tried to hold onto your version of the truth—the one you had built to survive. "I didn’t let you believe anything," you whispered, your voice shaking. “You’re lying. You’re making a fool out of me again. You didn’t look for me because you wanted me gone! H-he told me that if you find me…that you’d kill me. That you’re scared of being exposed for who you are-“

"Who’s he, Angel?" His voice was soft, but there was a hard edge beneath it—an urgency, a desperation to understand what had led to this moment, what had driven you so far away.

You froze, realization crashing over you like ice water. No. You shouldn't have mentioned him. If Suga thought you had died, then maybe—just maybe—he believed that Hoseok had disappeared with you in the fire. If that was true, he had no reason to go looking for him. No reason to discover what you were protecting.

But time was running out.

Not just for you, but for Hoseok.

Kim Seokjin knew what you were hiding, and the longer you stayed here, the closer Suga would get to the truth. If he ever found out about your son…

Your breath hitched, panic clawing at your throat. You couldn't let that happen. You couldn't let him find Hoseok. "It doesn’t matter," you said quickly, your voice cracking as you tried to mask your fear, but you knew it was too late. His eyes narrowed, sensing the shift in you.

"It does matter," Suga said, his voice growing harder, his patience wearing thin. "Tell me who’s been feeding you these lies, Angel. Who made you believe I wanted to hurt you?"

You swallowed, feeling the weight of his words press against your chest. His eyes were locked onto yours, searching for any sign of weakness, any crack where you might let the truth slip. But you couldn't. If you did, everything would fall apart. You would endanger your son.

"You’re not going to tell me? Fine," he said after a moment of tense silence, his voice dropping to a dangerous calm. "We have the rest of our lives to figure this out. But make this clear: you will not make me live without you again. I’m not letting you leave me."

“You can’t make me stay here!”

Suga’s lips curled into a slight, unsettling smile. "Oh, Angel," he murmured, taking a slow step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I can."

Your pulse quickened as you backed away, but there was nowhere left to go. The walls, the room, his presence—everything felt too close, too suffocating.

"You said you loved me once," he continued, his voice soft but chilling. "I told you then... you can never take that back."

Your heart pounded violently in your chest, the words hanging over you like a sentence. You had once loved him, but that love was gone, buried under fear, pain, and the desperate need to protect your son. Yet to him, that love still tethered you to him—unbreakable, inescapable.

"Things have changed," you whispered, fighting to keep your voice steady.

Suga shook his head slowly, stepping closer until the space between you was almost nonexistent. "No," he said quietly, almost tenderly, "the only thing that's changed is that now, I know what it feels like to live without you. And I'm not going through that again."

He reached out, his hand ghosting near your arm, but you flinched away, causing a flicker of something darker to flash across his eyes.

"You don’t get to leave, Angel. Not this time."

( 전정국 ) . . . BURNING HOUR jeon jungkook

❪ synopsis ❫ there’s nothing better than spending an entire day at your boyfriend’s yatch, tanning and waiting for the sunset with a drink in your hand… too bad your boyfriend had other plans for you.

❪ warnings ❫ SMUT ! including : unprotected sex, rough sex, public sex but not really public, missionary, doggy, kook’s dirty, dirty mouth, nipple play, oral sex (f receiving), fingering + fluff <3 ! this work is fiction and therefore it does not represent the real jungkook !

The sun was beginning its slow descent toward the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the endless stretch of sea. The air was thick with the scent of salt and the faint perfume of sunscreen, mixing with the distant sound of waves gently lapping against the hull of the yacht. You stretched out lazily on the sun deck, the soft cushion beneath you perfectly cradling your body as you soaked in the last rays of the day.

The sunlight kissed your skin, its warmth like a lover’s embrace, wrapping you tenderly. A slight breeze brushed against your skin, playful and refreshing, teasing strands of your hair as they fluttered across your face.

The only sounds that mattered were the gentle swish of water and the occasional chirping of birds.

The yacht was your private paradise – a place you liked to escape to whenever you felt like it – and today, it felt like nothing could disturb this perfect moment.

Except your boyfriend.

You loved Jungkook more than anything in the world, you really did. He was the reason why you were lucky enough to relax in this yatch, after all.

But ‘relax’ is not a word that usually took part in his dictionary.

From the moment you boarded this morning, Jungkook had been bursting with energy, bouncing around the yacht like a kid on a sugar high. He wanted to do everything and do it together.

First, he insisted on a little snorkeling to ‘check out the fish,’ and when you declined, he moved on to trying to teach you how to steer the yacht, laughing as you awkwardly fumbled with the controls.

You indulged him here and there, even letting him drag you through a few rounds of jet skiing, much to his surprise.

“I swear if you wet my hair I’m gonna leave you right here in the middle of the ocean.”

Jungkook simply laughed at your words, expertly manoeuvring the jet ski to go faster, enjoying your little screams of terror as you tightened your grip on him.

It took you over an hour to convince him to take you back to the yatch, only wanting to lie down and let the sun take care of you.

But Jungkook was relentless. His eyes twinkled with that mischievous spark that told you he was far from done with his plans.

In the afternoon, he spent a good half hour trying to coax you into the water for a swim. “Come on, it’s the perfect temperature! Just a quick dip!” he pleaded, flashing you that charming grin that usually got him anything he wanted. But you stayed firm, citing the need to work on your tan, which earned you a playful pout.

“No way, Kook. This is the perfect hour to get tanned.” You reasoned and he rolled his eyes in response.

“To get burned…” he murmured to himself, although loud enough for you to to hear it.

In the end, you won that small battle, and he finally gave up, albeit with an exaggerated sigh and a promise that you were missing out.

With one last cheeky wink, he dove off the side of the yacht into the shimmering blue, disappearing beneath the surface.

You thought that was the end of it — that he’d entertain himself for a while, and you’d finally get some peace. But it wasn’t long before you heard a growing noise near by. The kind that tingled at the base of your spine, making you glance up from beneath your sunglasses.

Jungkook emerged from the water like something out of a dream, climbing the ladder with water streaming down his bronzed skin.

His raven hair clung to his forehead, framing his sharp features in a way that made your heart skip a beat. The sun caught on the droplets that clung to his skin, casting him in a golden light that was almost too perfect. His tattoos – colourful ink tracing the length of his muscular arm in intricate designs – stood out starkly against his tanned skin, and his abs, toned and glistening, flexed with every move.

He caught you staring, and a slow, knowing smirk spread across his lips. “The offer still stands, baby,” he teased, his voice low and playful, as he ran a hand through his wet hair.

You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest, pretending to be annoyed by his antics. But it was impossible not to notice how the light played off his body, how he was all lean muscle and effortless grace.

He stepped closer, drops of water trailing down his chest, and you could feel the warmth of his presence mingling with the lingering heat of the sun.

Maybe you had been too fast in turning down that swim after all.

Jungkook stood over you, casting a playful shadow across your sun-drenched body. His smirk hadn’t faded, and you could see the glint of mischief in his eyes – dark, intense, and utterly captivating.

He tilted his head, droplets of water still clinging to his skin, and let his gaze travel slowly down your body, focusing on the way your swimsuit covered… little to no skin.

“You sure you don’t want to join me?” he asked, his voice soft, almost a purr, as he leaned down closer. “The water’s really nice at this hour.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your cool, but the way he looked at you made it impossible not to smile. “I’m perfectly fine up here, thank you very much.”

He chuckled, low and deep, the sound sending a shiver down your spine despite the warm late afternoon air. “Is that so? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re missing out.”

You narrowed your eyes, catching the teasing tone in his voice. “And from where I’m lying, it looks like you’re trying to guilt-trip me into jumping in with you. Not gonna happen, Jungkook.”

He grinned, biting his bottom lip as if considering something. “Oh, is that how it is? Not even if I ask nicely?”

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. You turned your attention back to your drink, feigning disinterest, even though you could feel his gaze still locked on you.

Jungkook leaned in even closer, close enough that you could smell the saltwater on his skin, feel the cool droplets that fell from his hair onto your heated skin.

“You know, I can be pretty persuasive when I want to be,” he murmured, his voice all smooth confidence.

You fought back a smile. “Not persuasive enough.”

For a moment, it seemed like he’d given up, retreating a few steps back. You relaxed into your cushion, pleased with yourself for holding your ground.

But then, in a flash, Jungkook’s expression changed – a wicked grin spreading across his face as he straightened up, muscles flexing with purpose.

Before you could even process what was happening, he lunged forward, scooping you up in one swift motion.

“Jungkook!” you squealed, your drink spilling as he lifted you effortlessly into his arms, cradling you against his chest like a bride on her wedding day.

He laughed, the sound pure delight, and you couldn’t help but laugh along. You struggled half-heartedly, but his grip was strong, unyielding, and you knew it was useless to resist.

“Put me down!” you demanded, though your laughter betrayed any real seriousness.

“Gladly,” he said with a devilish grin, “but not here.”

Your eyes widened as you realized what he meant. “No– Jungkook! don’t you dare–”

But it was too late.

With a playful whoop, Jungkook launched the two of you off the side of the yacht, plunging into the cool blue water below.

The sharp intake of breath, the rush of wind, and then the sudden shock of the sea enveloping you, cool and refreshing against your sun-warmed skin – it all took you by surprise, and yet it was a sensation you rarely felt before.

You surfaced with a gasp, sputtering as you wiped the water from your eyes, only to find Jungkook grinning at you, his hair slicked back, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Told you the water was good,” he teased, splashing it in your direction.

“Oh, you’re so going to pay for that!” you laughed, lunging at him with both hands to splash him back.

The water danced between you, catching the last rays of the sun, turning everything gold as you playfully wrestled in the waves, your laughter mingling with his.

Jungkook's laughter echoed around you, warm and infectious, pulling you even closer to him as you both floated in the cool embrace of the sea.

His arms tightened around your waist, drawing you in until your bodies were flush against each other, his skin slick and warm from the sun, now chilled by the water.

Your eyes met his, and the playful spark in his gaze softened into something deeper, something that made your heart race in a way that had nothing to do with the adrenaline from earlier.

His gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there as if he was silently asking for permission, though you both already knew the answer.

"Come here," he murmured, his voice low and laced with that irresistible confidence, the kind that always made you weak in the knees.

You didn't need to be told twice.

Leaning in, you closed the small gap between you, your lips brushing against his, tentative at first, then bolder as he responded with equal fervour.

Jungkook's hands roamed up your back, fingers splayed wide, holding you tight against him as he kissed you like he couldn't get enough, like he was trying to pour all of his emotions into that one moment.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, feeling the strength in them as they flexed beneath your touch, your fingers tangling in his wet hair, pulling him closer still.

The water lapped around you, cool and soothing, but your skin burned where it pressed against his, the contrast making your senses tingle.

Then, you let out a soft gasp as you suddenly felt his growing erection pressed against you, making you shiver.

"Jungkook..." you whispered, his name a breathy sigh as your eyes fluttered shut, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Mhm?" he hummed against your ear, his lips brushing the sensitive skin there as his hands founding the soft skin of your ass, pressing you further against him. "What is it, baby? You know I love it when you say my name like that."

You swallowed, trying to focus, but it was impossible with the way he was touching you, holding you so securely in his arms, making you feel like you were the only thing that mattered.

As Jungkook's hands gripped you tighter, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your ass, you felt your breath hitch, your body responding instinctively to his burning touch.

The feeling of him, hard and insistent against you, sent a rush of warmth through your veins. You bit your lip, unable to find the words as you stared into his piercing eyes.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and rough, vibrating through your chest as he nuzzled against your neck, his lips grazing your skin in a way that made you shiver. "I've wanted this all day, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with want, his breath hot against your ear.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you tightened your grip around his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as if grounding yourself, your body arching instinctively toward him, craving more of his touch.

Sensing your need, Jungkook shifted, his movements deliberate and fluid as he began to guide you back toward the yacht.

His lips never left your skin, trailing soft, teasing kisses along your jawline, up to the corner of your mouth, before capturing your lips once more in a searing kiss. The kiss was hungry, demanding, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that left you breathless, your thoughts spinning out of control.

With a surprising amount of grace, Jungkook lifted you effortlessly out of the water, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you onto the yacht.

The cool air kissed your wet skin, but it did nothing to quell the heat that burned between you. The world around you seemed to blur, the only clear thing being the feel of his body against yours, the taste of his lips, the roughness of his hands on your body.

Jungkook set you down on the sun-drenched deck, the wood warm beneath you as he hovered over you, his eyes dark with desire.

His hands were everywhere, sliding up your thighs, across your hips, pulling you closer until you could feel every inch of him pressing against you. "Driving me crazy all fucking day," he whispered, his voice rough and breathless as he captured your lips again, his kiss deep and possessive, stealing the air from your lungs.

You moaned softly against his mouth, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him even closer, your body arching into his touch.

Another whimper escaped you as his hands found the hem of your bikini, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin beneath it, sending shivers of anticipation down your spine.

He groaned at the sound coming from your lips, his eyes flickering with something primal as he pulled back just enough to look at you.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice husky, thick with desire as his gaze roamed over you, taking in every detail, every curve. "So fucking perfect."

Before you could respond, he kissed you again, hard and deep, his hands sliding under your swimsuit, playing with your naked skin as he moaned at your softness.

His cold hand met your heated skin, and you gasped, but Jungkook was already there, his mouth trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, lower still as his hands explored every inch of you.

His touch was electrifying, each kiss making you shiver with anticipation. His fingers roamed over your exposed skin, brushing over the swell of your breasts, teasing the sensitive curves before moving lower.

He paused just above the edge of your bikini, his lips lingering as he breathed hotly against your skin.

You moaned softly, arching your back as his lips brushed against your stomach, the sensation almost unbearable. "Jungkook..." you breathed, your voice trembling with a mixture of need and frustration. "Please... I need you."

He lifted his head slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours, glinting with a teasing amusement. "Yeah? You're so demanding now. You’ve been fussy all day and now you need me, huh?”

You could barely respond, the heat pooling between your legs making it hard to focus.

“Please... don't tease me. I need you now..." Your voice became desperate as you squirmed beneath him, trying to bring him closer.

A smirk played at the corners of his lips, and he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin. "Tease you?" he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. "You were the one who wanted to keep things calm all day. I'm just giving you what you asked for."

His fingers traced slow, tantalizing circles on your inner thighs, making you shiver with every touch. "I didn't mean it," you admitted, your voice breaking with a mix of frustration and desire. "I want you. I want so bad..."

Jungkook's gaze softened slightly, though the playful glint never entirely left his eyes. "Is that so?" he asked, his voice low and velvety. "You want me now, after all that 'I'm fine on my own' talk?"

You nodded vigorously, your body arching instinctively toward his touch. "Yes," you breathed out. "I want you inside me, Kook… don’t make me wait.”

He let out a soft, approving growl, his fingers finally making contact with the heat of your core, his touch light electrifying.

“Mhmmm,” he let out a sigh of approval at the sight of your arousal, visible through your bikini. “I can’t give in so easily, can I?”

You whined at his words, a pout appearing on your lips. But he simply leaned back with a chuckle, the muscles in his arms rippling as he did so. His eyes never left yours, dark pools of desire that seemed to draw you into them.

With deliberate slowness, he reached up to the strap of your bikini top, tugging it gently downwards until the fabric pooled against your breasts, baring them to his hungry gaze.

His fingers traced over your hardened nipples, pinching and rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. “Such pretty tits,” he murmured, leaning forward once more to take one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive peak before moving onto the other.

Your breath hitched as he lavished attention on your breasts, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. “Jungkook... please...” you begged, writhing beneath him, desperate for more.

Jungkook smirked against your skin, relishing how responsive you were to his touch. He continued his assault on your breasts, sucking and nipping at the soft flesh until it was flushed and marked with his love bites.

Only then did he begin kissing a trail down your stomach, pausing to dip his tongue into your navel.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your bikini bottoms, slowly dragging them down your legs and tossing them aside. Now fully bared to him, Jungkook took a moment to admire the view – your glistening folds already slick with arousal, just begging for his attention.

“Look at you, all wet and ready for me,” he purred, spreading your thighs wider apart. He blew cool air over your heated center, making you shudder and clench. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

“You know exactly what I need,” you whimpered, reaching down to thread your fingers through his hair, urging him closer.

The anticipation was killing you, but you knew that he loved drawing out every last second of pleasure.

Jungkook chuckled lowly at your plea, his hot breath tickling your sensitive flesh as he hovered just above where you needed him most. “So impatient,” he teased, even as he finally dipped his tongue out to taste you, lapping at your swollen clit with slow, torturous strokes.

He focused on that bundle of nerves, flicking and circling it expertly while inserting a finger inside your tight entrance, curving it to stroke that spot deep within you that made stars burst behind your eyelids. “Like this?” he asked, voice muffled against your throbbing heat.

“Fuckfuck... yes!” you cried out, your hips bucking upwards instinctively as he already found that sweet spot. The combination of his finger pumping in and out of you rhythmically and his tongue working magic on your clit left you a moaning mess.

Encouraged by your cries, Jungkook intensified his movements, adding another finger to stretch and fill you further. He pumped his fingers faster now, curling them deeper each time to hit that spot just right.

His tongue became relentless too, alternating between gentle sucks and sharp nips that had sparks shooting through your body. “You taste so fucking good, baby,” he groaned against your slickness, clearly enjoying himself as much as you were.

The dual sensations of his fingers plunging into your depths and his mouth devouring your clit pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Your walls clenched tightly around his invading digits, trying to milk them for all they were worth.

“Jungkook! Oh god, I’m gonna–”

Hearing those desperate words escape your lips, Jungkook only increased his pace, driving his fingers deeper and sucking harder on your clit. But instead of giving you what you needed – what both of you craved – he pulled away abruptly.

“Not yet,” he breathed out, his eyes locking onto yours with a look of pure lust. “You're going to wait for me.”

Withdrawing his fingers completely, he moved up along your body again, pressing himself flush against you. His erection was hard and throbbing against your thigh, practically begging for attention.

You let out a frustrated whine at the loss of his touch, feeling empty and unfulfilled. But when he pressed his body against yours, the heat of his arousal seeping into your skin, you couldn't help but moan softly.

“Koo, take this off…” you urge him, your hands sliding down to pull his swim trunks down, the tent of his cock heavy against your pussy.

He chuckled at your eagerness, biting his lower lip as he watched your desperate movements.

“Impatient little thing…” he muttered, as he helped you stripping off his swimsuit bottoms completely, freeing his massive cock which bounced heavily free.

Leaning down, Jungkook captured your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue dominating yours as he lined himself up at your dripping entrance. He teased you mercilessly, rubbing the head of his thick dick along your soaked folds without entering you fully.

A shaky moan escaped your lips as you felt his hard length nudging insistently at your entrance, coating itself in your slick arousal. Your nails raked down his back desperately, urging him closer, silently begging him to fill you up.

Your hips bucked up involuntarily, trying to impale yourself on his thick shaft, but he held you down firmly with a warning growl.

“Ah ah ah, not yet,” Jungkook tutted disapprovingly, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. He continued grinding against you, his rock-hard cock sliding between your slippery folds and bumping against your aching clit with each thrust.

“You want my big dick stuffed deep inside this tight little cunt, don't you?” he growled filthily in your ear, punctuating his words with a particularly rough grind. “Beg for it. Beg me to fuck you senseless.”

One hand released your wrists to roughly palm your breast, kneading the soft flesh and tweaking your nipple almost painfully. His teeth grazed the side of your neck possessively as he awaited your response, still refusing to grant you the satisfaction of his thick length stretching you open.

Your chest heaved with ragged breaths, your breasts bouncing with each movement of his hand. “Just fuck me, Jungkook!” you pleaded, your voice thick with desire. “Fuck– just… just do it.”

His dirty words only fueled your arousal further, making your pussy clench and drip even more copiously.

“Not good enough, baby,” Jungkook purred, his voice low and seductive. He kept teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock, coating himself in your slick juices.

“I want to hear you say it. Tell me how badly you need my dick splitting you open. Beg me to ruin this perfect little pussy.”

His free hand slid down your body, finding your swollen clit and rubbing it in firm circles. "Be a good girl and ask nicely, and maybe I'll give you what you want."

He continued his movements, bringing you right to the brink of orgasm before pulling away completely. Over and over, he denied you release, leaving you a panting, needy mess underneath him.

"Please, Jungkook…” you sobbed, finally succumbing to him, tears of frustration welling up in your eyes.

Your hips bucked wildly, seeking friction anywhere you could get it. But without his thick length filling you, it wasn't enough. You were desperate, utterly consumed by your lust for him.

"I'll do anything, just please fuck me now pleasepleaseplease…” you begged, your voice cracking with desperation.

Your words got interrupted by a sudden, loud moan of his name coming from your lips when he finally thrusted forward, burying himself balls-deep inside you without giving you any time to adjust.

“Ah fuck...” he grunted out loud, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he watched your face contort with pleasure. “That's it, baby. Take my cock like the good little slut you are.”

With a firm grip on your hips, he started pounding into you relentlessly, each thrust driving his massive member deeper into your quivering walls.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as he pistoned in and out of you, his girthy cock hitting all the right spots inside you. Each powerful thrust sent jolts of electricity through your body, building up the pressure in your core.

“Yes, yes, yes! Harder Jungkook! Fuck me harder!” you demanded, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him impossibly deeper.

The obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin echoed across the deck of the yacht, mixing with your wanton moans and his guttural groans.

The sound of your voice screaming for more only spurred him on. Jungkook grabbed your thighs tighter, spreading them wide apart to allow for even deeper penetration. His strokes grew erratic, driven by pure animalistic lust as he sought to claim every inch of your body.

“Fuck, you're so tight...” he gasped out between thrusts, reaching down to circle your clit with his thumb in an attempt to push you over the edge. “Take it all... Every last inch of my cock.”

You mentally sighed in relief for being completely alone in the middle of the ocean, far away from the coast, because otherwise everyone would have heard your loud cries of pleasure.

And so you continued, crying out loud, your inner walls fluttering around his pulsating length. Your orgasm was approaching rapidly, ready to crash over you like a tidal wave.

“Make me cum, please make me cum!” you begged, your voice filled with desperation.

As much as he wanted to see you lose control under him, Jungkook knew he had other plans first – he still had to punish you for being so fussy with him all day.

He flipped you over onto your stomach, dragging your ass up towards him and positioning himself behind you. Grabbing hold of your hips, he gave a final, forceful thrust that buried his cock even deeper than before.

“We’re nowhere near done, baby,” he breathed hotly against your ear, reaching around to tease your swollen clit again. “You'll come when I say so.”

Your body trembled as he pulled out until just the tip remained inside you, then slammed back in with brutal force. You cried out in shock and pleasure, your fingers scrabbling against the wooden deck beneath you.

“Yes, god yes, just like that!” you wailed, your hips rocking back to meet his punishing thrusts. The new angle allowed him to hit even deeper, the head of his cock hitting your g-spot with every stroke.

“Yeah? You love taking my dick, don't you? You love feeling me split you open..." he whispered hoarsely in your ear, punctuating each word with a deep, punishing thrust.

The sight of your body moving so sensually beneath him, coupled with the feel of your slick walls gripping his cock, was intoxicating. Jungkook picked up speed, slamming into you over and over with relentless abandon.

“You’re so good for me…” he moaned, his voice breaking slightly as his hands moved all over your body. “My perfect girl.”

Your mind was lost in the haze of pleasure, unable to form coherent thoughts anymore. All you could focus on was the overwhelming sensation of his throbbing cock tearing through your inner walls, the delicious pain mingling with intense pleasure.

“Jungkook...!” you whimpered, feeling your climax building at the base of your spine. “I'm gonna... Oh God, I'm going to...”

Hearing your impending orgasm, Jungkook slowed his pace, dragging his engorged length along your swollen clit and through your dripping entrance. With a strong grip on your hair, he tilted your head back to expose your neck for his affectionate kisses and bites.

“Just wait... Just wait for me,” he murmured against your skin, peppering kisses down your shoulder blades before capturing your lips in a fierce, passionate kiss. “Let me fill you up, baby.”

You felt dizzy with need, your entire body trembling from the intensity of your impending release. Jungkook's tender kisses and loving caresses were a stark contrast to the rough, almost violent way he had been fucking you moments ago, sending shivers down your spine.

“Please...” you whimpered against his lips, your tongue darting out to tangle with his own. “I can't... I need...”

Your words dissolved into incoherent babble as you writhed helplessly beneath him, your hips bucking involuntarily for more stimulation.

Feeling your body tense and quake beneath him, Jungkook knew you were teetering on the edge. With a low growl, he pulled out of you completely, leaving you empty and aching for his return.

“Wait a little more, baby, I know you can." His sweet yet commanding tone made you whine, but before you could say anything he spun you around to face him.

Lifting you up, he pinned you against the railing of the yacht, your legs wrapped around his waist as he positioned his cock at your entrance once more.

You instinctively clung to him, your arms looping around his neck as your legs tightened around his waist. You felt the cool metal of the railing pressed against your back, a welcome contrast to the heat emanating off both of your bodies.

You looked up at him with pleading eyes, grinding your hips against his in a futile attempt to relieve some of the ache pulsing between your thighs.

He smirked down at you, seeing the raw desire etched into your features. Gripping your hips firmly, he slid back inside you in one fluid motion, stretching you gloriously around his girth.

“That's it, baby… take all of me,” he groaned out, starting to move slowly this time, savoring the feeling of your tightness enveloping him inch by inch.

His thrusts became increasingly deep and deliberate, designed to draw out your pleasure rather than simply satisfy his own needs.

The slow, torturous rhythm he set had you panting and moaning, your hands fisting in his hair as you tried to guide his movements. Every single inch of his cock stretched and filled you perfectly, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

“God, Jungkook... please... I need to cum,” you pleaded, your voice laced with desperation.

His pace quickened at your desperate pleas, his hips pounding into yours in a relentless rhythm. Grasping your wrists, he held them above your head, pinning them against the cold railing.

“You’ve been teasing me all day…” he whispered, his voice strained with pleasure. “And now look at you. So desperate for me.” His thrusts grew rougher, more demanding, driving him closer to the edge as well.

The sensation of being taken so roughly sent sparks flying through your nervous system, your body shaking uncontrollably. Each powerful thrust sent vibrations rippling across your skin, making your nipples harden further.

“More... I want more,” you begged, your eyes locked onto his with a wild intensity.

He grinned wickedly at your plea, feeling the power surge within him. Thrusting harder and faster, he watched your breasts bounce with each impact, the hardened nipples begging for attention.

“Like this?” he asked, leaning down to take a nipple between his teeth gently while maintaining his furious pace. A moan tore itself from his throat as he felt your walls tighten around him, signaling your impending orgasm.

Your back arched sharply as he suckled on your sensitive nipple, the dual sensations of his mouth on your breast and his cock pistoning in and out of you becoming too much to bear.

“Yes! Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” you screamed, your nails digging into his shoulders as he kept going.

Feeling your nails dig into his skin only spurred him on further. He released your nipple with a wet pop, his gaze locked onto yours as he drove into you relentlessly.

“Cum for me, baby,” he commanded, his voice husky with lust. His thrusts became erratic as he chased his own release, the coil in his lower abdomen tightening unbearably. “Make a mess on this fucking cock, c’mon.”

Your body tensed, every muscle pulled taut as your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave. A silent scream tore from your throat, your vision whiting out as pure ecstasy consumed you. Your walls clenched around him, milking his cock.

“Yes, yes, yes!” you chanted deliriously, your hips bucking wildly against his as you rode out the intense waves of pleasure.

The feeling of your pussy spasming around him pushed Jungkook over the edge. With a guttural moan, he buried himself deep inside you, his cock twitching as he emptied himself inside of you.

“Yes, fuck... take it all, baby,” he groaned, his hips jerking sporadically as he rode out his own intense orgasm. He collapsed against you, his weight pressing you into the railing as you both struggled to catch your breath.

"That was amazing," he mumbled into your neck, placing soft kisses along your sweat-dampened skin.

You were left limp and quivering in his embrace, your heart racing and your body still humming with aftershocks of pleasure. As he peppered your neck with gentle kisses, you let out a sigh, your fingers trailing lazily through his hair.

After a moment of silence, you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh. “Jungkook,” you called his name, and he responded with a muffled sound against your neck. “You’re about to make me fall on the water.”

He let out a laughter at your words, purposely tightening his grip on you as he pushes your body harder against the railing.

“Jungkook!” you tried to push him off, although you couldn’t help the giggles escaping your lips. “I swear if I end up in the water again…”

He let out a laugh, the sound warm and intimate against your ear. “Alright, alright,” he said, easing his grip and helping you regain your balance. “But c’mon, you really think I’d throw you in the water?”

You looked up at him, raising your eyebrows. “You really want me to answer that?” You ask with a playful smirk.

Jungkook’s laughter softened as he looked into your eyes, his expression turning tender. “Okay, you’ve got me,” he said, easing his hold and helping you settle back comfortably. “I guess I might have thought about it a little.”

You both chuckled, the playful tension fading into a warm, affectionate quiet. Jungkook gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch light and reassuring. “I promise I won’t let you fall,” he murmured, his voice sincere and soft as he grabs your hand, walking inside the deck, before embracing you in a comforting hug.

You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “Good,” you replied, smiling up at him. “Because I’m happy right here with you.”

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Me too, baby,” he said quietly, his gentle, doe eyes reflecting the soft glow of the yacht’s lights.

Jungkook turned you around, hugging you from behind as his head found the crook of your neck, arms enveloping you once again.

The sun had dipped below the waterline, leaving the sky painted in hues of deep purple and fiery orange, the last remnants of daylight casting a gentle glow over the yacht.

The world around you was quiet, save for the soft lapping of waves against the hull and the distant hum of the night. The stars began to emerge, twinkling softly against the darkening sky, and you both watched in peaceful silence as the day gave way to night.

Jungkook’s arm tightened around you, his warmth a comforting presence against the cool evening air. “Look at that,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with awe. “It’s beautiful.”

You nodded, leaning into him. “It really is,” you agreed softly.

But little did you know, that as his sweet words left his lips, his eyes weren’t set on the magnificent view. They were on you.

Jungkook’s gaze lingered on your face, illuminated by the soft glow of the fading light. His expression softened, a quiet adoration in his eyes as he took you in. “You know,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t need sunsets or oceans to see something beautiful.”

You felt your heart skip a beat as you turned to meet his gaze, a blush creeping up your cheeks. “Jungkook…” you began, but he shook his head gently, silencing you with a tender smile.

“I mean it,” he continued, his arms tightening around your waist. “I’d watch you like this a thousand times over before I’d ever get tired of it.”

The sincerity in his voice, the warmth of his touch – it all felt too perfect, too overwhelming in the best possible way. You leaned into his arms, closing your eyes briefly as you allowed the moment to settle in your heart.

Even with your eyes closed, you sensed Jungkook’s gaze on you, so full of affection.

And just like that, the world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you under the starry sky, lost in each other.

would you able to do smth that’s pure full angst??? like angst that doesn’t lead up to smut, love your work btw!!

Choose

Summary: Gojo is forced the choose between his two best friends, Geto or you.

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru AFAB!Reader (slightly implied??)

Warnings: angst, kidnapping, violence, torture, blood, physical abuse, pain, character death

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: y’all wanted angst, I deliver 🙂‍↕️ enjoy your meal! Thanks @sugurubabe for your help!

The room was musky, thick was the humidity that had sweat heading against your forehead as you lay on the floor wheezing painfully before another blow hit your stomach hand. You curl into a fetal position, crying out in excruciating pain as boots crunched against broken glass that littered the floor. This wasn't how the mission was supposed to go; it was supposed to be easy!

A curse, a grade-two curse! Something both you and Suguru should have been able to handle! But it seemed as though there was no curse, none whatsoever.

What you and Suguru found waiting for you was a curse user and an assistant supervisor who had betrayed you all. Everything had happened so fast. The woman led you down a hall, revealing this supposed curse. You were in front of Suguru, listening to details and trying to sense the nonexistent cursed energy when a heavy thud sounded from behind you.

Nothing could have prepared you to see Geto on the ground out cold. The sight left you frozen in shock as your eyes darted back to the assistant supervisor holding a plank of wood stained with a bit of blood. You tried to act fast, reaching into your uniform to throw a talisman paper at the traitor, but the world went black for you. Someone hit you from behind.

When you came to, Suguru was still out, and the hats when the curse user began his shitty interrogation. He asked over and over again where Gojo was, and every time, you had a smart-ass remark. Which ended up with you getting the shit kicked out of you.

“I’ll ask you again.” The curse user barked out, crouching down next to your face. “Where is Gojo Satoru?”

Holding onto your stomach, you smirked, slowly lifting your head to look at your captor. “Your mom’s house.” Instead of a kick, the bastard backhanded you, making you wince before you cupped the side of your face, trying to hide the pain that you felt throbbing in your cheek.

“I don't like wasting time, and I don't like little liars.”

“Yeah, and I don't like assholes who beat up a couple of teenagers!” You yelled back, ignoring the iron taste that flooded your mouth.

“This is going nowhere; I thought you said the three were inseparable.”

That was true; Before the three of you were sort of a thing, going on dates, making out, sleeping together in the same bed. And that’s how it had been true until last year after the Star Plasma Vessel was killed. Ever since that fateful day, things have changed between you, mostly Gojo, but you could tell Geto was also starting to pull away too. He wasn't sleeping well, refusing to come to your room, go on dates, and you were both getting sent on more solo missions. You were honestly surprised you and Geto had been assigned this mission together, but even the two of them were slipping apart it seemed.

You’d been excited, looking forward to working together with one of your boyfriends? (Maybe you guys weren’t official yet), and had been planning to go on a soba noodles date afterward. Things were supposed to have gone differently today. What you imagined as a pleasant time with one of your best friends had turned into a literal nightmare.

You shot a glance in Geto’s direction. He was still out cold, but from the movement behind his eyes, you were hoping he was going to come soon enough. If you worked together, you might get out of this without further injuries. Until then, you just needed to continue to buy some time, and you could accomplish that by being extra annoying. You did learn from Gojo firsthand.

“T-They are—I thought they’d be assigned this together.”

“Well, he ain't here, is he?!”

“Yeah, sorry,” you spit your blood-laced saliva on the ground, “the band split up!”

“Oh did it?” The curse user asked, cocking a brow down at you.

“Yep! So I wouldn't count on him showing up anytime soon.”

That should have been enough to deter them from following through with whatever plan they had. But your words made your captor smirk. He said nothing as he reached into his pocket, tossing your phone to the traitor, before he moved fast, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking you to your feet.

“Why don't we get the band back together then?” You tried out in pain as he slammed you back down against the floor, lifting your head an inch as he crouched behind you. “Take a picture of her and Geto, and send it to Gojo along with the address.”

The flash was both blinding and suffocating as you struggled to free yourself. This wasn't good; you knew if Gojo were to see it, he'd come running. You were his best friends, and even thought he's been busy with training and all the missions he had been sent on, you knew he still cared for the two of you. And when he showed up, he would fall right into the hands of these monsters who were worse than the curses you constantly took out.

With the second flash that flooded the abandoned hospital room that was only illuminated by the light of twilight, you felt panic swell in your chest. You thrashed and screamed against the man still holding you down on the ground, watching in horror as they texted Satoru from your phone. This wasn't happening; it wasn't real; this was a terrible nightmare that was going to end soon, right?!

“There, done.”

“No!” You screamed, kicking your legs out underneath you. “No! You bastards!” Tears welled in your eyes as you focused on Suguru, grimacing near you. “Suguru! Suguru, wake up!”

“You’re too loud!” The curse-user shouted, kicking you in the stomach a second time, followed by a third, before he kicked you in the ribs.

The impact of that fourth hit had you dry-heaving and sobbing from the pain. You collapsed on the ground, vision blurring for a minute before a crashing sound from down below caught your attention. You wheezed painfully, trying to pull yourself up. You had to tell Satoru to run, that it was a trap, but you couldn't speak. Every breath you took was like stabbing to your stomach, to your lungs; everything hurt.

“Suguru?! Sweetheart?!” Satoru yelled, bounding up the stairs towards you. While you might not be able to speak, you used all of your strength to crawl, inching towards the doorway. Maybe your actions would prevent him from stepping closer. “Where are they, you bastard?”

“T-Tor—Toru—” you gasp out, crawling closer to the door to have the assistant supervisor kick you in the stomach this time. “Agghh!!” You screamed out, and you could hear the footsteps running closer to the door.

You didn’t want him to come inside, to be the reason he fell for a trap. But your prayers and wishes didn’t come true. The door flew open, and your best friend stood in the doorway, his blue eyes taking in the scene in front of him. He met Suguru first, watching as his best friend blinked a few times as he started to regain some form of consciousness. Then, pretty cerulean eyes found you. You could see the rage burning within the irises.

“Ah, the infamous Gojo Satoru, finally we meet.” The curse user unsheathed a katana from his side, licking his lips. “. you sure do know how to piss off a lot of people. And a lot of these people want to hurt you in so many ways. I was hired to deal with that pain for them.” The Curse user said in a condescending tone. “They want you to suffer, and they want to hurt bad. So prepare yourself; it’s not going to be pretty.”

“S-Satoru—run,” you whined, trying to lift yourself.

Your friend threw his head back and laughed out loud. “I don't no dumb ass hired you to ‘hurt’ me, but I’ve been living under a rock for the last year. I’m stronger than I was before, and nobody will kill me. So my friends go, and I’ll deal with you.” You couldn’t help but grin even though the pain was excruciating; leave it to Satoru to have a snarky comeback.

“Oooh, I’m sorry, there seems to be a misunderstanding.” You blinked, watching as the traitor bitch dragged Suguru towards you, throwing him down next to you, leaving him groaning as he blinked hard, trying to come to his senses. “I didn’t say I was going to kill you. I said I would hurt you, and unlike my clients, I have to know you are untouchable. So if I’m not able to hurt you physically, I decided hurting you emotionally would be much better.”

“Huh?”

The katana slammed against the floor right between you and Suguru’s heads. “Choose.” The curse user said in a deep voice, leaving your eyes wide as you stared at your reflection in the blade.

Satoru froze up, eyes focusing on you and Suguru on the ground. “What?”

“Pick one, him or her.” You swallowed as Suguru's eyes widened in shock.

“I ain't picking one over the other!” Satoru snarled out, looking back at your captor, who was smirking.

“You aren’t going to pick?”

“Fuck no!”

The curse user hummed, twirling the katana around in a circle. The dying light menacingly reflected off the blade. You swallowed harder, looking into Suguru’s eyes as the katana twirled faster. This whole situation, everything about it, left you feeling sick to your stomach.

“Then I guess we’ll choose for you!” The curse user announced, picking the katana up out of the ground.

“You—”

“Nuh-uh!” The katana slanted into the ground, an inch away from your face, making you cry out and fear. “Come near us, use one of your special moves, and I’ll slice both their heads off right here. You might be the strongest, but I can assure you that I’m the fastest.”

Your stomach twisted in pain and fear as your breath fogged against the blade. This really couldn’t be happening right now. You choked on a sob, as the katana lifted out of the ground, allowing you to stare into Suguru's eyes. He swallowed, exhaling through his nose as he inched closer towards you. That subtle action to let you know that everything was going to be okay, that he was there by your side, only caused more tears to stream down your cheeks.

“It’s okay, everything’s gonna be okay,” Suguru whispered, his eyes darting towards Saroru, who was clenching and unclenching his fist in apparent concentration, his eyes roaming between the curse user, the traitor, and his two best friends. “Satoru will figure this out; we’ll be okay.”

“Shut the fuck up!” the katana slammed down again, cutting strands of Suguru’s bangs. “I don’t like repeating myself, Gojo. And I believe I ask you a question. Choose. Someone has to die today.”

Dark eyes glittered with amusement as Suguru looked up at the curse user. “You obviously don’t know my friend, he would nev—”

“Suguru.” Satoru blurted out. You slowly turned your head to look at the tufts of white hair that dropped as he clenched his fists harder.

“Satoru.” Suguru purred out, smiling. “What I can—”

“I choose to save Geto Suguru.”

Your stomach twisted in pain as you felt tears welling in your eyes as the curse user barked out a laugh, moving the katana so fast you didn't see it slicing Suguru’s bindings. Was your mind playing tricks on you? Did he re—really just pick Geto? Was he choosing to let you die?

You meant nothing to him?

Your stomach churned with nausea as the room started spinning. You felt like you couldn't breathe as Satoru refused to look at you. He did, and he picked Suguru over you.

Tears blurred your vision as you listened to Suguru cursing as he was quickly unbound. “Wow,” the man towering above you breathed out. It looks like you see where you stand.” Anger and betrayal hit you as you whirled to glare.

“Fuck you—nngh!” he kicks you in the stomach for a fifth time. And the impact made you see dark spots.

“You heard the man; it’s time to die.” he kicked you again, rolling you onto your back, where it was hard to breathe. “I hope you're watching Gojo Satoru; watch the hope and trust she had for you fade along with her life!”

The katana rose up, and you shut your eyes, waiting for the pain to hit. Instead of your cries of pain, the man above you screamed. When you forced your eyes to open, you watched as one of Geto's curses shot out, swallowing the man’s upper half in one bite, before swallowing the rest of him in another. Weakly you turned your head as the traitorous bitch was wrapped up in one of Suguru’s other curses.

Your beaten and bloodied best friend was panting as Satoru stared at him in shock. As if he couldn't believe he had stepped in. But his shock quickly dissolved into realization as his head turned towards you, and he moved, running towards you.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, reaching to lift you up. But as his hands inched towards you, you pulled away from him, tears running down your cheeks. “Sweetheart?”

“Don't touch me.” you wheezed, vision blurring as your stomach twisted in pain. “Don't you ever fucking touch me again, you son of a bitch.”

“Sweetie, I—”

“Don’t touch me!”

Satoru pulled his hand away as if your words badly burned him. “I-I—” You laughed out bitterly, turning your head, and it was a look Gojo would never forget.

Your eyes were dull, blurred with tears, but he could see the betrayal and hatred swirling within them even with their dull hue. You wheezed deeply, blood seeping out of the corner of your mouth as Geto rushed towards you on the phone, calling Yaga. But nothing mattered nothing but you right then and there.

“Sweetheart, I-I wouldn't have let them hurt you. I promise!”

“You chose Geto.” you spat out, a droplet of blood jotting Gojo’s infinity as you curled in on yourself. “You chose to keep him alive and let me die.”

“I wouldn't have let them!”

“Bullshit!”

The pain in your face was like a million needles to Gojo’s heart as Geto told Yaga about what had happened. “That’s enough right now, you two! Satoru, Yaga wants you to take her back to campus so Shoko can help.” Gojo could see the shame in Geto’s eyes as he hung up the phone. “Princess, Gojo’s going to teleport you to the school.”

“No,” you whispered with a shake of your head.

“Come on! I won't hurt you; let me help you!”

“Don't you fucking touch me! I'd rather die than let you touch me. And you shouldn't have an issue with that, seeing that you picked me to die.”

Satoru gritted his teeth with anger but backed off, giving Suguru a shrug as the other man sighed. “Whatever.” With a sigh of annoyance, Sugiri picked you up princess-style and started running out of the room, heading down the stairs to get you in the car while Satoru followed behind, staring at the ground in shock and disbelief.

He knew you were mad; anyone would have been angry. But he panicked; he had to make a choice; otherwise, he would have lost you both, and that was something he was never going to let happen. Maybe he yelled out Suguru’s name because he was closer to him. Or perhaps it was just out of reflex, but he meant it when he said he would save both of you. There would be no way he would let anything happen to you. Both of you were his best friends.

You were just angry now; it would take some time, and he would explain that to you when you calmed down. All you needed was a little bit of time and space. What was the saying? Time heals all wounds?

Yeah, that was it. He just needed to give you some time to process what happened and allow your wounds to heal.

“Huh?” Gojo asked as he stood in the morgue, staring at Shoko.

“I said there wasn't much we could do.”

His eyes trailed down to the body that lay on the metal slab between him and Shoko. Your face was lax, your eyes shut, and bruises were discoloring your pretty face. This was a joke; it was all a fucked up joke for what he had said, right? You were going to sit up and say ‘jokes on you’ or ‘I got you bitch’ right? But your skin was too ashen, your pulse wasn't racing in your throat, and he couldn't sense your cursed energy with his Six-Eyes.

You were gone.

“B-But I don't understand. W-What happened, she was—she was fine.”

“On the outside, maybe.” Shoko lit a cigarette, holding it between her teeth as she moved some of your hair from your face. “But she took several kicks to the stomach, it looked like, and the sheer force formed an abdominal hematoma that ruptured with that last kick. If she got here a bit sooner, then maybe, just maybe, we could have saved her.” Shoko frowned, pulling the white sheet back up to cover your face. “But there wasn't anything we could do.”

Satoru's hands started shaking as he smelt earthy musk and mint approaching his side. He swallowed hard, turning to find Suguru staring down at your body, an almost unreadable expression on his face. What was he supposed to say in a situation like this? One where they both lost their best friend?

“She stayed true to her word,” Suguru whispered as he turned, his white button-down shirt tucked into his pants, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “I’m going on a mission to the countryside and won't return for a while.”

Satoru turned, glaring as Suguru opened the door to the hall. “What the hell do you mean she stayed true to her word?!” Suguru paused before looking back at Gojo with dull, lifeless eyes that almost mirrored yours the last time you had looked at him. It was so eerily similar that Gojo took a step back.

“She would have rather died than have you touch her.” His eyes focused on your body before he met Satoru's teary eyes. “And she did just that, all because of your choice.”

With that, the door slammed shut, leaving Gojo standing in the morgue with the body of one of his best friends while his other went off on a mission alone. A mission that would lead to him massacring an entire village. Little did Gojo know his choice would cost him the lives of both his best friends.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

No Longer Mine, part 2

A/N: Well, the first part of this fic, aka No Longer Mine, got very popular, at least compared to many of my other posts. I was planning on writing a second part anyway, but I also got a lot of comments asking for one so I’m happy to write this. I feel like I can’t get Nanami’s “voice” right, so the dialogue feels OOC, but I’m too tired to try to keep changing it. Hope you like this one too :D (Part 3 coming when I get around to it)

Some people asked to be tagged, so here’s that list: @labelt-san @username23345 @ourfinalisation

Word count: 1.9k

You didn’t know who else to call. You felt this horrible pit or dread growing in your stomach. Did you have anyone left? Were your friends from before your missing time even alive anymore? There was always a chance of dying suddenly because of the work you did. You didn’t have your phone and you didn’t remember anyone else’s number except for Gojo’s and maybe Nanami’s, you weren’t really sure. You decided to ask the nurse for a phone anyway and take your chances.

Nanami was in the middle of showering, so he couldn’t get to the phone when he heard it ring. No matter, he could just call whoever it was back. He had no idea that returning that phone call would turn his life upside down.

Six months had passed since your return, and a day hadn’t gone by that Gojo hadn’t thought of you. He felt guilty for not looking for you when you went missing, and on the other hand he felt guilty because all these thoughts were happening while he laid awake in bed, with his fiancée asleep next to him. He loved Ava, he really did, but he couldn’t get you out of his head.

For the first time since you were found on that side street in Tokyo six months ago, you woke up feeling content. It had certainly been an adjustment period after you got out of the hospital. All the nightmares, waking up in a cold sweat or just straight up screaming in your sleep. For the first month after you got released from the hospital, you stayed at Nanami’s place with the intention of looking for a place of your own. He let you take the bed while he slept on the couch. He woke you up from countless nightmares and held you as you cried about something you couldn’t even remember.

You were angry a lot of the time. Angry at whoever had taken four years of your life, angry at yourself, and angry at Gojo. It was the main emotion in your life for months. No matter how much you screamed and cried, no matter how many pillows and coffee cups you obliterated, Nanami stood by you through all of it.

It was very much like you were going through the five stages of grief. Denial happened at the hospital when you first found out that four years of your life had been stolen. Anger was with you for the whole process, and no matter how much you bargained, begged the universe that you would do anything to just go back, it didn’t happen. Life just doesn’t work that way. You don’t get second chances and you don’t get to go back in time to change things. The depression part wasn’t easy either. Sometimes you would pretty much go for days at a time without even getting out of bed. Nanami was still there, he made sure you ate something every day. He made sure you would get through it.

You were there to welcome him home from every mission, even during your worst days, you made sure to say “hi” to him when he came back. You were there to patch him up if he needed it. At some point he started actually looking forward to coming home, it wasn’t just a house anymore, it was a home, because you were there. He never wanted to pressure you into anything, the relationship just happened.

At some point during those six months, you and Nanami had become close. You had been friends before, but this was something different. At some point he didn’t leave the bed anymore after calming you down when you had a nightmare, at some point you just let it happen, you didn’t want him to go. At some point, you too, moved on. Finally, after six months, you found yourself waking up feeling content.

“Good morning sleepyhead” you whispered in his ear before pressing a kiss on his temple.

“Morning” he muttered sleepily.

“This is probably the first time I’ve seen you sleep past nine in the morning” you chuckled.

“I forgot to set an alarm, it seems” Nanami sighed, turning to face you.

“Do you have any missions for today?” you asked, tracing circles on his chest with your finger tips.

"No, today is all for you" he said softly, as he placed his hand on yours on his chest.

“That’s good to hear” you smiled. “I was wondering if we could go to Shinjuku? I need to get some shopping done. I still owe you some coffee cups…”

“Sounds good” he said.

The two of you got out of bed and before you knew it, you had eaten breakfast and were on your way to Shinjuku. Ijichi was kind enough to drive you, and you agreed he’d come pick you up later in the day.

You’d gone into a few shops, but nothing had struck your fancy, so you hadn’t bought anything yet. You were just enjoying your time out with Nanami. That’s when you noticed a familiar, tall, white haired figure in the crowd.

“Kento?” you squeaked.

“Hmm?”

“I think Gojo is here” ever since that day at the hospital, you hadn’t been able to call him by his first name. Not that you really needed to anyway, you weren’t together, nor were you even in contact at all anymore.

You’d been doing your best to avoid him and it seemed he had done the same, and now you just happened to run into each other. It was like the universe was giving you a giant middle finger. You tried to move so Nanami was between you and Gojo, so he wouldn’t see you.

Gojo didn’t notice you at first, he just saw Nanami, but he of course wanted to say hello to his colleague. It was quite crowded, so Gojo didn’t see you until his hand was already almost on Nanami’s shoulder. When he saw you, he froze, his hand just hovering a few centimeters above his colleague’s shoulder, before he pulled it back.

“Oh, hey” Gojo muttered.

“Satoru, I almost lost you in the crowd, you walk too fast” Ava said, as she appeared from behind him.

“Sorry baby, I just wanted to say “hey” to Nanami and… (Last Name)”

Ava’s eyes widened as she realized who you were. She’d heard about you from Gojo, she’d seen your grave, you were supposed to be dead. That’s what she’d been told, that’s what her fiancé had told her, but here you were.

“Oh. Nice to meet you (Last Name). I’m Ava, Satoru’s fiancée” she said with a beaming smile, while hanging onto Gojo’s arm, offering her hand for you to shake.

“Nice to meet you too” you said, shaking her hand, trying your best to smile back at her, but it felt awkward.

That’s when Gojo noticed it. You were holding Nanami’s hand. He felt an ember of anger flame up in his chest for just a second, but that was enough for you, Nanami and Ava to notice the spike in his cursed energy fluctuation. However, you were the only one who noticed what he was looking at when it happened. He quickly quelled his anger, but it was already too late.

“Oh screw you” you muttered under your breath, before turning away and rushing off.

“Haven’t you done enough damage?” Nanami questioned with an angry tone. “They’ve gone through enough”

Nanami took off after you, leaving Gojo just standing there, confused, with an annoyed Ava still hanging onto his arm. As Ava tightened her grip on Gojo’s arm, he could already basically hear the argument that was going to happen as soon as he got home with her. It was his own fault really, he hadn’t told her about you being back. He wasn’t even sure why he had even done that. It’s not like he had feelings for you anymore, right? His body just reacted, a spike in cursed energy meant absolutely nothing.

It didn’t take Nanami long to find you. He knew your favorite sweets shop was nearby, and that’s where he found you. You were just wandering amongst the shelves, muttering something to yourself.

“Are you alright?” Nanami asked, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You placed a hand on top of his and just sighed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to run off. He just makes me so mad, especially when things like that happen”

“I know, beautiful, I know” Nanami sighed.

“You felt it too, right? How his cursed energy spiked when he saw us holding hands”

“Are you sure that was the reason? I know he’s immature and arrogant, but surely not to that extent” Nanami said.

“I told him he moved on like I was nothing, when he came to see me at the hospital. Now he must think I’m worse, because it’s only been six months since I came back and I’m already with you” you rambled.

“If he has a problem with us, he needs to come out and say it” Nanami stated sternly. “He’s not allowed to get angry about how you moved on and with who, he doesn’t have that right anymore”

“I know, but I still feel like shit about it” you sighed.

“How about we buy some of your favorite sweets and go back home?”

“Home huh… Sounds good to me” you smiled tiredly.

Even that little encounter with you had made Gojo feel like his head was going to explode. Now with Ava complaining at him, it was even worse.

“Why didn’t you tell me they were alive?!” she hissed loudly as she paced back and forth in front of him.

“How many times do I have to tell you: I don’t know!” Gojo groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he sat on the couch.

“How do you not know something like that!? You consciously decided to lie to me about this, so how do you not know?!”

“I-I just don’t! Okay?! Could you stop fucking talking, your voice is giving me a damn migraine…” Gojo yelled, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth.

“Wow” Ava scoffed in disbelief. “You know what? You can go back to that bitch for all I care” she hissed venomously, before marching out of the room.

“Fuck” Gojo sighed, and laid down on the couch.

He could feel the migraine coming on and now he felt like shit about yelling at Ava too. Gojo didn’t understand why it was such a big deal, it’s not like he’d been seeing you behind her back. Hell, he hadn’t seen you a single time since that day at the hospital, so why did it matter? Why did you matter? Why did he still care? You had gotten so upset at him for moving on during the four years he thought you were dead, and now you had moved on with someone else in six months.

He just needed some sleep, right? He would just wake up from this nightmare the next morning and the past four and a half years would all turn out to have been a bad dream. You would be there next to him and he would never have to even think about you with someone else again. The thought made him feel guilty. He was with Ava, why was he still thinking about you? Why was he always thinking about you?