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aseaofyoongi · 1 year

Text

behind pixels: sequel | jjk

jeon jungkook x reader (f)

genre: sex worker au (jk)

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: after visiting a certain little app where a guy assisted you during a very stressful night, you realize the man is closer to you than you think.

warnings: not another continuation to a college au. . yes, yes it is; a bit of fluff, a but of smut; wetdreams-ish; masturbation; clitorial stimulation; fingering; in a public location… if you know what i mean; penetrative sex; unprotected sex; oc is a bit insecure; crush culture; i think that’s it honestly

word count: 12.7 thousand words

posted: may 13, 2023

notable songs: self control - frank ocean | love is only a feeling - joey bad$$ | day dream - destin conrad | fire in the sky - anderson paak

It’s been two weeks.

An entire fourteen days since you were blessed with JK’s instructions as assistance to a night of relief from a collection of frustrating days.

The night when his thunderous voice soothingly lead you towards the most delicious orgasm you’ve experienced. Days after that very event you found yourself dwelling in the fanasities he had communicated from the other side of the screen — dusting off the records stored deep in your brain. All you wanted, all you craved was his voice, his attention, and the one thing you had not been able to experience yet, his touch.

After locking your dorm room door, you removed you shirt and shorts before plopping down on your cotton bed sheets. Your eyes were shut tightly blocking out the brightness from the lamp on the nightstand, with the constant linger of JK in your head your hand began traveling lower until it finally pushed past the hem of your panties. The feeling of your fingertips against your clit sent bolts of electricity en route down your back. You began, working towards that same finish line you’d once crossed when talking to JK on Eargasm. But it wasn’t the same, it’s like you were on that same road you once were but your destination moved farther and farther into the horizon.

Still, with beads of sweat streaming down your temples and with your right hand going numb you continued to rub circles against the sensitive bud in-between your folds.

“Come on, come on,” you huffed as your already muggy dorm became hotter and hotter.

But it wasn’t working — It was useless. Your fingers were useless.

“Doll,” you heard his voice from across the room.

“JK?” your eyes flew open envisioning the man you’ve only spoken to from behind your computer screen. You weren’t sure why but it was so hard to draw the connection between the two of them. There was JK, the man who helped you just a few nights ago with his alluring utters. Then, there was him, still JK only he was the boy who sat behind the front desk in the student center with his nose constantly stuck behind a book. They were the same person but they couldn’t be any more different.

Standing at completely different ends of the road. One became the personification of all of your carnal desires, while the other hid behind a clear shell unbeknownst to the effects his beauty had on you, on all of those around him.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, dazed by the fact that he was here. . in your dorm and you were semi naked in his presence yet again, “how did you find out where I live? How did you get in?”

“Don’t worry doll,” he still wore the black mask he wore when he was on camera with you but you could tell by the way his eyes crinkled up that he was smiling behind the dark cloth, “I’m here to help. And by the looks of it seems like you just might need my assistance once again.”

He nodded in the direction of your hand buried under the fabric of your panties.

“I don’t have a masturbation addiction, OK?” you sat up on the bed resting your back on the headboard.

“I never said that,” he chuckled, “if you haven’t noticed I’m a sex worker and if anything, I’m addicted to making people cum.”

“Right.” You cleared your throat, his bluntless shooting straight down to your core.

“By my records I made you cum very. . very quickly,” yes, you were still succumbing to the endorphins of your thoughts circling around him — too focused on the way the bed dipped right beside you, “do you remember that?”

“Huh?”

“Come on, doll,” his hand landed right beside your thigh and he began gently stroking the fabric of your sheets, “don’t tell me you forgot already.”

“I didn’t,” there was a tingle slithering on the surface of your skin, “I was just thinking—“

“You’re thinking of him again aren’t you?” he shook his head, “just remember I’m just a couple messages away and he isn’t even around.”

“Him?” if only he knew. He was him.

“Him. That boy you told me about,” the pads of his fingers brushed against your thigh leaving a trail of goosebumps behind, “the one you said you were thinking about when you were touching yourself.”

“I wasn’t thinking of him.”

“Don’t spare my feelings doll. Tell me the truth. I can take it,” in a way he was right you were thinking of him, the boy from the student center but that also meant you were thinking of JK — how would you even go about explaining this situation to the very man who was clueless to the fact that he was the only person occupying your thoughts?

“When you wanna forget about him for a bit you know where I’ll be doll,” he leaned in and whispered in your ear softly, “I’ll show you a good time.”

His cool breath met the shell of your ear almost in a slowed motion, it left you a shuddering mess. Overcome by the feeling of the electrical currents coursing through your veins. You were addicted to that very feeling but specially because you knew he was the only person who could make you feel what you felt.

“JK, I promise, I’m not—“ you opened your eyes only to be met by a vacant space beside you on the bed.

Fuck. Not again, not again, not again. Everytime you found yourself aiming lower in an attempt for self release he visited you. Storming your thoughts like a tropical storm and wreaking havoc in his path. Reminding you that your fingers no longer had a sense of direction in mapping out your fantasies.

Your fingers now entirely futile. All while your sexual frustrations rose and your cunt continued its rhythmic drumming mimicking a quickening heartbeat. It was increasingly painful and it reminded you of the ease you’d once experienced under JK’s ministrations.

“I’m going crazy. .” you whispered out into the void, “I’m going fucking crazy.”

Temptation drew you closer and closer to the laptop laid out on top of your desk. Although you tried to restrain yourself against it, leaning back on the feeling was much easier. And before you knew it you were sitting on the computer chair with the browser opened up staring right back at you.

In your mind, you typed out Eargasm over and over again — yet there was a hint of hesitation restraining your hands to the arm’s rest.

“He’s just a couple words and clicks away,” you typed out the letters but your hand remained hovering over the keys incapable of actually conducting the search. Surrounded by silence and the anxious streaks of hesitancy — there were an abundant number of questions clouding your mind. But the main one remained whether he would even want you there.

“Just do it, you little bitch,” realistically speaking the chance of JK being online was high, but wasn’t exactly the issue. You knew he extended an invitation for you to visit him at your leisure but in the back of your head you couldn’t help but wonder if you were pushing it demanding his attention this quickly?

The clacking of the keys echoed among the walls of your room. Immediately, your eyes were exposed to the bright turquoise full screen with the seven letters highlighted in a bright pink tone. The more you ogled the welcome screen the more you were consumed . . fervid with the excitement cooking up in your stomach as you came to terms with the fact that JK was so close. In a haste you clicked on the message icon wanting to pull up the very familiar username but to your demise there was a ruby colored ring surrounding his icon. He was with someone else. . Someone who wasn’t you.

This is his job. You repeated.

He does this every night. You repeated.

There was an aching sting springing in the center of your chest and while prior to that night your heart remained at a sinus rhythm, in this moment that changed and you could feel as the organ slowed pumping almost coming to a full stop.

It really shouldn’t sting but you couldn’t help that it did.

“Please tell me you’re planning to go back home at some point this summer,” your best friend approached the table you occupied on the second floor of the dinning hall.

“Not a chance,” you swayed your pointer finger left and right.

Though, campus was significantly bare during the following scorching months there was nothing to really go back home to. While, you didn’t necessarily have a bad relationship with your parents — they were just never there. The purpose for their living and breathing was reduced down to avoiding you so they became addicted to their jobs. A pair of workaholics looking to forget about their personal lives, which only resulted in becoming estranged to their only daughter in the process.

And at the end of the day you’d rather spend nearly all three-hundred and sixty five days of the year on school grounds as opposed to being cooped up in a ‘house’ with nothing but empty rooms and frigid hallways.

“I can’t believe you actually chose to stay here. If I were you I’d be springing right past those brick columns and archway,” she sighed resting her head on her palm.

“How about we actually get you to pass that pesky math elective so that we can get back to your family for the entirety of the summer.”

“What about you?” she asked.

“What about me?”

“What will it take to finally get you to go back home at least once next summer?”

“I don’t think anything is compelling enough for me to go back there and ruin my summer,” you shrugged while taking another bite of your sandwich.

“Come on,” she whined, “Nothing?”

You shook your head — there was nothing back home for you but stark loneliness. That was crystal clear to you.

“There’s not a special somebody waiting for you?” Once again, you shook your head.

Nada.

“So you’re telling me there's not a mystery man who’s the root of all your pent up sexual frustration?” She raised an eyebrow at you, clearly not believing a single word out of your mouth. You hushed her immediately, scanning your surroundings to make sure the people in the surrounding tables weren’t hearing in on your conversation. They weren’t.

“Can you shut the fuck up?”

“You act as if it’s a crime,” she rolled her eyes, “everyone masterbates and it’s actually healthy you know.”

“I would really appreciate it if we could hold this conversation until we are behind closed doors,” you uttered through gritted teeth, feeling like you had the label ‘recent masturbater’ plastered on your forehead.

“Fine,” she took yet another bite of your apple, “will you at least tell me if Eargasm helped you illustrate all of your wildest fantasies.”

“You make it sound like it’s some sort of elaborate form of art,” you guffawed.

Her bulging eyes stared at you as if you’d insulted one of her family members or a pet, “It is an art form. It definitely is. Just think how hard it must be to help someone get off by quickly reading their body language through a screen.”

“When you put it like that the guy I saw must be a magician,” God, you tried stripping all hints of excitement from your voice at the casual acknowledgment of his presence.

If anything JK himself was an art piece himself, illustrated onto the canvas with pristine brush strokes detailing all the perfect curvatures of his face and physique. He draped himself in dark hues and even within the square frame just hung on the wall he was a light source. One that demanded your attention, holding eye contact at all times and refused to let you dedicate even a bit of your attention to anything or anything who wasn’t him.

“What do you mean by that?” she squinted while crossing her arms at her chest.

“Well, for starters,” you shrugged, “I kind of never turned on my camera. . Not for the beginning of the session at least.”

“Not for the entire session?”

“Exactly.”

“Bitch, that was a question not a statement.”

You sighed; blanketed with bashfulness, “so after I requested a video session and he finally called I physically couldn’t hit the camera button.”

“And what did he say?”

“Nothing condescending,” you took a sip of your water, “he was actually really nice about it. That was pretty much the session.”

“But you insinuated you turned it on at some point?”

You stared out the glass windows adoring the wall beside the table — Now, you began to weigh your options. You could either deflate, avoid or confess. And at this point you were one hundred percent sure she has seen far too much. Much more than you ever intended to show anyone on this entire campus.

“I said that?” Avoid? Ok.

“You did. .” She pushed her chair closer to yours, perhaps her attempt at creating a concealed atmosphere.

“I have nothing to tell.”

You kissed her teeth simulating hints of annoyance at your discretion, “Bitch. . stop acting clueless. You’re a shit liar.” She eyed the way you anxiously played around with your hooped earrings.

“I’m not hiding anything” you let go of the silver jewelry and sat up on your chair, “And I’m not a shit liar.”

“Fine. Spare the juicy secrets.” She shrugged, “but at least tell me who you saw.”

After giving the tables around you a thorough scan to make sure he wasn’t near you finally whispered the only name you knew him by into her ear, “I almost chose Tae but then remembered you see him so I saw JK instead.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t cause Tae is mine,” she grinned like a fool. A love struck fool.

“Yours, as in yours and probably a hundred other girls. You know that, right?”

“That’s the crude reality isn’t it?” she sat the half eaten apple on the table huffing continuously like a mopey child, “how was JK though?”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and while there were a million praises you wanted to express, all of the words sat idle in the back of your throat, “he was good.”

“Just. . good?”

“Well, better than good actually,” you began, urging your mind to unscramble the words needed to amplify his saccharine aid, “He was gentle and patient. But even more than that he was also sweet and caring.”

“I’ve read this man’s description before so he has tattoos and an eyebrow piercing right?” you nodded in confirmation, “plus he’s a literal angel?”

“Pretty much.”

“Dear God, how are you even breathing right now?” she placed her arms at your shoulders and rocked you back and forth emphasizing your existence here on planet earth as you finally comprehended that you weren’t just living some sort of venereal dream.

“I-I honestly don’t even know,” the flashed lingers of that night resided in your mind in small clips — the more you tried to recall the amatory details the more your mind became cloudy, dazed in its own lustful elixir. A potion so potent you were still high days after just off that hour doze, “it was definitely a night.”

“You should visit him again,” she began poking your side, “I know you wanna see him again.”

“I don’t know,” you giggled, pushing yourself away from her finger, “I honestly think it was a one time thing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

General Ed classes were frankly the worst part of university. You couldn’t quite understand the need to take all of the same classes you took and passed in highschool just so that they could reaffirm that you could in fact do math or knew your basic knowledge of biology or chemistry.

It was bullshit — An evident cash grab scheme. All at the expense of dedicating one’s freshmen year attending classes we truly didn’t even really need applied to our major.

You could sincerely rant about this all day long but it was currently nine in the morning, you were running low, (very low actually), on coffee and you were already ten minutes late to your intro to biology class. Your pace was matched with long strides as you were practically running through the courtyard.

Finally pushing through the glass door you felt the way the blanket of sweat covered your forehead. Leaving your skin as bright as polished glass and your breath shortening as a result of the rapid trip between your dorm and the library.

“Fuck,” you were out of breath choosing to take a seat on the bench near the entrance for a seconds before reluctantly hoping back on your feet and trotting up the stairs to the computer room.

Looking through the door’s window you saw the professor lecturing away. You practiced about a dozen ways to go in before you finally convinced yourself to just barge in — which eventually you did but a wave of regret washed over you when the door behind you closed with a loud bang and suddenly all glares were on you.

“Sorry,” you muttered.

“No worries, it happened to almost everyone here. Seems like the door is louder than we perceived,” the professor replied.

Scanning around the mid-size room you saw foreign faces staring back at you until your bestfriends smiled beamed brightly from the table at the end of the room. She was sitting alone with two vacant chairs on either side “Yeah, seems like it.”

“Well, welcome to Intro to Conducting Research. I’m Mr. Kim.” he introduced himself with a tender smile, “I hope you found your way ok. I know this one’s kind of a hidden gem unlike the rest of the lecture halls.”

“It did take me just a bit of time,” you chuckled, suppressing your nerves as they quickly urged you to scramble away from the front of the class and just sink into a chair to prevent yourself from verbalizing anymore idiotic babbles and incoherencies, “is the seating assigned?”

“No, no go ahead and find a seat wherever you’d like. We were just getting started.”

Quickly, you found yourself plopping on the chair beside your bestfriend, puffing out the constrained breath that had taken your chest cavity hostage as a result of your embarrassing entrance. Mr. Kim continued his first day lecture which mainly consisted of a syllabus reading, his life’s story and the scrambled rules to an icebreaker on the white board.

“What do the icebreaker questions say?” your friend asked, squinting to get a better look at the board, “I left my glasses at my dorm.”

“Does it matter?” you slouched down aiming for complete comfort slinging your feet on the metal bar, “we literally know everything about each other already.”

“Bullshit, I have no idea what your name is. .” Her delivery was accompanied with low and raspy vibratos. If you didn’t know any better you would have thought she was mimicking Mr. Kim’s voice. She pulled her phone from one of the pockets of her book bags and began scrolling aimlessly.

Your chuckle was airy and quickly vanished when you heard the rusty hinges of the door wailing out. The loud noise from the door meeting the threshold startled you although your eyes were already glued to the front of the room.

“That door is going to drive me fucking crazy,” the exasperation in her words was evident and you were about to agree but suddenly, you had moved from your place right beside her — feeling like she was now miles away. While you were now in this narrow space similar to an alley or tunnel. In the distance you saw her still glued to her phone screen while sitting on the opposite end; succumbed to pitch blackness. Even as you stood and attempted to sprint in her direction you were condemned to the enclosed walls.

You couldn’t tell whether you were trapped within a dream or a nightmare but he was here.

JK was here.

That was the torment drumming itself amongst the walls of your skull as the beat etched the stills of that night deep into your brain. The night you swore you would forget yet here he was to remind you of every second of it. Yet, your gaze was focused on him and you just couldn’t peel your eyes away.

You’d concluded it was entirely his fault. He possessed the kind of beauty you’d only ever heard derived from the ancient Gods of Greece — and as if he was a descendant of Aphrodite he held distinct associations to his name. You would argue JK was synonymous to beauty (obviously), love, passion and most certainly lust.

You must have been deep in orbit because you couldn’t recall the first or the second or the hundredth time your friend called out for you, so much so that she began shaking you to get you to snap out of it.

“Cute boy is coming this way,” she nodded in his direction, and you quickly realized he was closer than you had perceived, “Look alive bitch. He definitely looks like your type.”

“I don’t have a type,” you whispered through gritted teeth — he was close now. Just a few feet away.

“Yes, you do,” she mumbled back, “he’s practically a carbon copy of your Eargasm boyfriend.”

“He’s not,“ you argued quietly.

With her giggles circling through the air and your bulging eyes of horror JK finally made it to the proximity of your table and his soft utters sent an algid shiver to take route on your skin freezing you right into place.

His name was Jungkook, you’d learned.

He was JK but he was also Jungkook.

Between unremitting stutters you introduced yourself briefly and he took the liberty of occupying the only vacant chair left in the classroom which also happened to be right next to your best friend.

Small talk was your kryptonite and while your friend excelled in keeping conversations alive, you sat opposite the two of them lulled into space. Making your best attempt to seem as least interested as possible. But the truth was whenever you heard his voice you thought a command would follow right behind it — just like the ones he communicated that night.

Your thoughts were scrambled into a mess and there was a dull ache in between your legs further accentuating the frustration you’ve felt for far too long.

“What about you?” he asked, his eyes were duly set on you.

“Huh?” his brown eyes were so much more invasive in person and you felt like he devoured you with them.

“Is this your second year too?” he repeated.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, “it is.”

“Don’t mind her,” your friend said, “she’s a little out of it.”

“It’s ok,” he smiled; and quickly you noticed the silver hoop sparkling on the corner of his lip. Was that always there? You hadn’t noticed before. “Being here for the summer has us all going a little crazy.”

“Is this your first summer here?”

He nodded, “I usually head back home for summer but I figured I would get my gen ed’s out the way.”

“We all had the same idea I suppose,” you contributed.

“It’s better than being here for a whole extra semester,” she played mindlessly with the zippers on her backpack.

“What about you guys?” he asked, “is this your first summer here.”

Your friend quickly began recounting her endless summer adventures from years prior. . far far away from campus. Jungkook nodded and they both reflected on the forsaken summer ahead. Deflated at the exceeding number of voyages they’ll be missing while condemned to remain on campus.

You couldn’t help but wonder about the things you had kept from yourself. . A lot perhaps.

With the company of the scorching heat of the summer months daylight savings time lurked right behind it—providing the longevity of the sun, as the Earth seems to lean a bit closer to the star and decrease its speed in rotation.

And here you were melting away by the very sun. Unbeknownst to the so-called wonders of the summertime. Barred from any of the memories everyone seemed to be defined by: the best months of the year, the best moments of your life they’d say.

While enthralled in your own thoughts you heard your friend’s voice though it was a bit muffled, still you were able to make out what she said, “Ellie is over there. I’m gonna go say hi. You two talk okay?”

Jungkook chuckled softly. Why would she say that? Ugh, she made it weird. She definitely made it weird.

“Is she always like this?” he asked, leaning a bit closer in your direction and although he still remained in his chair at a considerable distance, you could feel the waves of his body heat crashing against you.

“Always,” there was a hint of nervousness stained on your tongue but you swallowed it down. Or at least tried to, “life’s never boring when she’s around.”

“You guys been friends long?” he asked, gis voice still vibrated in your inner ear, sounding like the beat of drums. It truly did frazzle your nerves.

“Yeah, we’ve been friends for a bit.”

He nodded. Simply soaking in what you’ve said—there was nothing else to say but you urged to hear the strumming of his sweet words just once more.

“What about you,” you clasped your balmy hands on top of the table, “you got any friends around here?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook nodded, “I have a couple. We all live near each other back home too so I’m never allowed a moment of peace.”

“Seems like we’re kind of living under the same pretenses.”

“Seems like it. Maybe, we could escape away together one day.”

Together? Did he just say together? As in the both of you, on the same route. . Intentionally, while in each other’s company?

The silence between the two of you was deafening, you became nearly incompetent; unable to communicate anything corrigible. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your throat became dry. So fucking dry.

“Or-“ he began, seemingly taken back by your lack of verbal communication.

“Yes,” you finally said, “I’d like that very much.”

“You promise?”

“One day.”

The first week of research class was slow. . repetitive and you couldn’t help the way your thoughts wandered off to your conversation with Jungkook the first day of class. How you promised each other one day—Just one day but that was as far as it has gone so far.

Even though, in that moment, you couldn’t feel farther away from him.

You’d barely uttered a word to each other but the patented ‘hello’ and ‘bye’ but that was the extent of it. There had been nothing else. Plus he no longer sat near, he was three tables away with his friend, Namjoon who had switched in on day two of class.

You couldn’t ignore the ping in your heart when you walked in that day and you saw him that far away—You could no longer spark up nuisance conversations, or sneak glances when you pretended to write your notes or have the sweetness of his vanilla scent inundating your nostrils.

It has all gone to shit. With fervent frustration you trotted up the stairs to your dorm on the second floor. Looking forward to laying in the comfort of your bed until you have to physically peel yourself away from your sheets.

The first strike was pitched the moment you pulled out your key card from the back pocket of your jeans and it immediately hit the floor. Conducting a string of breathing exercises to ease your rising vexation you picked up the card once more and took a deep breath before sliding it into the reader. The world was pitted against you that day though, because as soon as you retrieved the card and reached for the knob the electronic lock dinged and flashed its red light.

You tried again and again and again—all your attempts leading to the same result. Until finally your irritation ran rampant through your veins and you continuously banged on your door with your balled fists as if that would have made a difference. There was no one on the other side who could possibly rescue you, your only solution lived in the student center. . Visiting the very booth occupied by a certain boy who lived in your heart and mind.

“Oh c’mon, not today,” you mumbled leaning against the cold wooden door, “fucking Monday’s are always shit.”

The way to the student center was not long at all but your calves were torched with the amount of walking you’d already done for the day. Luckily, as you pulled the door open the hallways were vacant which meant there were no lines and most importantly no waiting.

“Finally, this damned day might just be turning around,” you mumbled to yourself.

You walked down the corridor, entered the second to last room and there he was sitting behind the rectangle frame carved into the wall. Jungkook’s chin rested on his palm. His long strands were left in a disarray but it made it work. He truly did. The rest of his body was hidden behind the tall desk but even from your position near the door you could see the collar of his black t-shirt. Even as the bell on top of the door chimed his attention was consumed by the brightly lit screen laid out in front of him.

“Hi,” he greeted, not looking up in the direction of the door once, “welcome to card and ID services. How may I help you?”

“Is this how you greet all the students who pop in here?” you teased with what you recalled to be your most idiotic smile plastered on your face.

He chortled finally realizing who it was, “if I would’ve known it was you I would have given you my undivided attention from the moment you walked in.”

Realizing you stood without your friend as a shield for conversations, you swallowed your nervousness. “You say a lot but I bet you don’t mean half of what comes out of your mouth.”

“I live by codes of honesty, doll.”

There was a stumble in your step as soon as you heard the pet name he uttered through your laptop screen all those nights ago. The same one that had you lured under his spell, in a disarray of emotions, whimpering babbles of nothing at all and everything all at once.

“Whatever you say, Jungkook,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m actually here for a reason, not just for your charms and to see a pretty face.”

“Charms and a pretty face huh?” he smirked.

“Anyway,” you diverted the conversation away from your inane choice of words, “I’m actually here because I can’t open my dorm door with this thing anymore.”

“Is it working though?”

“No,” you slid the card over to him on the surface of the desk. You were hoping to get a peak of his tattoos as he reached out for it but he wore a hoodie. “it isn’t working like. . at all.”

“Actually, I was talking about my charismatic personality and dashing good looks.” His annoying and compelling magnetism had you in conflict between wanting to smack him upside the head or suck his dick behind the counter. “According to you of course.”

“Let’s table the cockiness for now and focus on the actual problem taking root,” you tapped your fingers in the plastic rectangular key.

Jungkook smiled and took the plastic key before sitting back on his office chair and typing away purposely into his keyboard. Even under the shitty lighting of this holed up office space his attractiveness was evident.

“How did you even manage to fuck up your card this bad?” he asked, not really demanding an answer but you shrugged anyway, “the computer won’t even read it.”

“I really have no idea.”

“This is gonna cost you, you know” his eyes still remained on the screen.

“I thought this shit was free?” you argued, “don’t we pay enough tuition to cover a little damaged keycard. I should’ve just broken my way in.”

Jungkook simply shook his head whilst dragging his chair back towards the printer to fetch your card.

“Consider that we’re very well acquainted classmates. Can you please deduct fifty-percent from what you were going to charge?”

“Well acquainted classmates?” His expression was hard to read but if you had to guess he seemed a bit hurt. . perhaps offended. But you could also just be misreading the situation. “And here I thought we were really good friends.”

“Aren’t they synonymous?”

“Not to me,” he held the new card towards you only to pull it back when you reached for it.

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes at him. “We’re friends. Great friend actually.”

“Hm, I don’t know. Sounds a bit disingenuous,” he sat back on his chair still holding your key hostage.

You scoffed. “And how would you possibly know that?”

“I can read people.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

He smirked, “I can always just show you how well I can read people.”

The intent behind his words was blurred behind thick lines and while you genuinely thought he wanted to plead his case, you couldn’t help but feel like there were hints of temptation behind his promise.

It actually took you a bit off guard—though, not really. Jungkook, like JK, (his alter ego?) was a concoction of sensuality and comfort. He is the personification of sweetness and while that was a fact he also had a player persona and he was driven by flirtatious mannerism.

The perfect combination of two.

“Is this how you spend most of your day? Harassing all of the girls who come by to get their keycards fixed.”

“Harrasing is such an ugly word,” he smiled. That stupid that was so compelling it actually drew you closer and closer to him. “Besides you’re the only one I like to fuck around with.”

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky you,” he repeated in a hushed tone, placing your card on the wooden surface while his hand remained on top of it, swallowing it whole under his palm. “If you really wanna test your luck I want to offer a proposition.”

“What would that proposal entail?” You removed his palm and finally grabbed the card, shoving it in your back pocket. You tried to hide it but the feeling of your fingers meeting his ignited sparks to crackle in the pit of your stomach and instantly you were blinded by bright lights, perhaps fireworks.

“One day, remember?” Jungkook’s eyes are mesmeric, stroked with intricate detail, dabbed with a tone of cafè noir, glossed over as a final coat offering a shiny layer.

“One day, yes,” you confirmed taking yourself back to your conversation on day one, “you offered to take me around and show the beauty of summer. Everything I’ve been missing apparently.”

Jungkook shook his head light-heartedly. “Right. I was just wondering if we could upgrade the singular term to plural.”

“What do you mean?”

“One day,” he repeated. “Can we change that to a couple of days instead?”

Days. . This implies that you’ll be spending days with Jungkook? This felt like a cultivation of your own personal heaven. Initially, when he proposed the idea to you back in class a seed had been planted in your head, slowly blooming a flower which swayed briskly the more you thought about Jungkook and being able to ever spend time alone with him.

“You know I didn’t actually think you meant any of it,” you lied, you believed him or at least you wanted to.

“Did I not just say I’m a man of honesty?”

“Apparently that’s your morale code, right?” you raised your eyebrow at his claims of integrity.

“Of course, it is.” He confirmed, “don’t sound so surprised please.”

“Not surprised. Just absorbing all of this newfound information.”

“Absorbing sounds a lot like mocking.”

“Mocking is such an ugly word,” you teased.

“Ha—ha, very funny,” he uttered jokingly accompanied by a rumbling fake laugh, “you know what’s not funny?”

“What?” you tilted your head slightly with a smug smile painted on your lips.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I do?” you hummed.

“You really strive to puncture my ego don’t you?” his gaze was set on you intently, his dark orbs read you slowly from head to toe. It made your palms balmy and you could feel a tremble taking route at your lower extremities.

Walking towards the door your shaky hand reached for the handle and opening it before turning back one last time. “The answer is yes.” You walked out although you heard a string of questions following right behind you, all of them left unanswered.

Yesterday was Friday, which meant today was Saturday. You knew that. You were competent enough to map out the days of the week accordingly. . Still, you weren’t quite sure why you heard an alarm blare through the walls of your dorm at six in the morning, startling you right out of the comfort of your slumber. Now, just thirty minutes past seven after rushing your morning routine thinking you’d ‘late for class’ you sat in bed showered with no real plans for the day ahead.

Your bowl of instant oatmeal was now empty and sitting on the nightstand beside your bed.

Navigating through the multitude of apps on your laptop was not as entertaining as you once perceived and although it did ease your boredom for a bit. Now you sat with the base panel sticking to your thighs staring at the home screen with nothing else to probe into.

“Come on,” Jungkook’s voice was barely above a whisper, once again he seems to have invaded your thoughts, “I know you wanna visit me.”

“I’m not sure what you mean. I don’t need to visit the student center today.”

“You know what I’m talking about, doll,” the words bounced in your head, “I know you remember.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, your attempt at trying to vanish him from your mind entirely. But even if you hated to admit it you couldn’t help but crave that feeling of him being here even if it was through the building blocks of your own imagination—It just felt so real. The heat of his presence felt so real and truly you just wanted to be consumed by it.

“Last time, I visited you. . You were a little busy.”

“That was last time,” he laid back sinking into the softness of your mattress and pillows, “I promise I’m all yours today.”

His commands were like the songs of sirens inching you closer to the very spot where he wanted you to be. Very easily you typed in the name of the website you’d grown very familiar with on the browser and quickly clicked on the last messages between the two of you — he was online and without indication of being in another session. That’s a good sign.

Yeah.

You can call.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard without indication on how to approach a conversation because for one you wanted to speak to him but it was also eight in the morning and Eargasm was a simple gateway to an orgasm. Not to mention, you’d be talking to JK not Jungkook and while the two were the same person they were also different.

BunnyBoy98 is typing…

Fancy seeing you

back here ;)

You quite literally could not move.

Have you missed

me?

Please. Don’t flatter

yourself.

It’s not flattery.

Last I recall, I

did make you cum.

My fingers did that.

Not you.

Who was the guiding

voice though?

Right.

Don’t you ever

forget it, doll.

Is there a reason

you messaged me?

I like that about

you, you know.

What?

Your bluntness.

It reminds me of

someone I know.

It’s hot.

There’s someone else? Someone who occupies his thoughts regularly it seems. Your heart felt heavier as the sharp blade pierced right through it leaving behind a vast hole and an incurable wound. You weren’t really sure why but it hurt so bad.

But you knew it should not. His job required sparking up conversations with dozens of girls on a daily basis and helping at least a dozen more find their culmination.

You cannot feel anything.

Thinking of other girls

in my presence? Shame

on you BunnyBoy.

Sorry, doll.

I promise right

now is all about you.

But we seem to have

started on the wrong

foot. How can we fix

that, BunnyBoy?

Use me as you

please.

As you read his request there was a shift in the atmosphere. Sort of like what you felt back in back that first day, where you were briefly dreaming inside of a dream or like what you imagined it would feel like if the Earth ever slammed down on its brakes coming to an abrupt halt. Actually, you were sitting in a massive slingshot just waiting to be catapulted into space — it was all too grand to minimize into coherent thoughts, too great to be reality.

But it was and you were pulled right out of your own illusion when the phone call icon began vibrating repeatedly signaling there was an incoming call.

While your head was still swimming among the cottony clouds your fingers somehow managed to hit the green button on the call from JK popping up on your screen.

“I was beginning to become hopeless,” his voice was so distinctive the minute he began talking your skin became covered in goosebumps.

“Why were you becoming hopeless?” To this day, you wondered how you were able to point him out even in a crowd just by his voice and he’s yet to identify yours. Perhaps, that is exactly the reason why you were so comfortable speaking to him here — and adopting the confident persona you lack in real life.

“When I call there’s usually an answer just by the first ring.”

“Things are different today, BunnyBoy,” you laid down and placed the laptop on the pillow right beside your head. “I make the requests today, remember?”

You were nervous and you weren’t quite sure just how much of this you could actually pull off but you were willing to try just to show him a good time.

“It’s your turn to tell me what you desire most,” you tried to maintain a whisper to your tone. Not only was that your go-to interpretation of seductiveness but it was also really fucking early in the morning and the last thing you needed was to be the dirty talk alarm for your dorm neighbors.

“I like to be the gateway to heaven.”

“Elaborate.”

“You know exactly what I mean,” he snickered. Of course, he was referring to the art of making someone orgasm and he was right you were all too familiar with it. . Especially coming from him.

“What is it that you like so much about it?”

“It’s just an addicting feeling. I don’t really know how to put it into words,” you could tell he was talking through a wide grin, “it’s such a vulnerable moment for most people but I can’t help but drink the other person in entirely until I’m drunk off the antics and mannerism of their orgasm.”

“You get off by getting other people off?”

“I guess that’s an easier way to explain it.”

“So do I need to get off to help you get off right now?”

He huffed out a small breath, “Is that what you want, doll. To help me?”

You hummed, crumbling and failing to come up with any words at the mention of the nickname he’d attached to you.

“I can dig into my memories, you know. There’s so much about you I remember,” Again, you couldn’t see him but you could sense the smirk right through the microphone, “I know you kept your screen off but the sounds you made were enough to have me touching myself every second of everyday for days on end.”

The sensation of your walls clenching around nothing was taunting and the stream flowing right through the fabric of your panties just piled up on the mountain of frustration. You were miles away from the peak as you trotted up slowly but your thoughts remained on him.

“It’s like an audio file on loop. Your whimpers, and moans and the soft utters of my name. Fuck. The mixture became an ideal composition to the perfect ballad,” he confessed through a string of soft pants, “and then the way you pushed your fingers past your lips just to savor the taste of yourself. You really drove me to insanity.”

Your body felt as light as a feather and you could’ve sworn you were levitating right above your mattress you just couldn’t open your eyes to prove it. Instead, your tanktop was pushed below your breasts and your finger began its trail on your clit rubbing slow circles.

“JK, ima need you to shut the fuck up right now,” you were breathless with a hint of desperation. Ready to lose yourself in his voice, but you couldn’t, “shut up—“ you repeated, “this is not how it’s supposed to go today.”

“You say that,” he cooed, “but how come I can tell you’ve already begun to touch yourself?”

You pulled your hand from yourself, repelling away from the gravitational pull forcing you to reach back down between the warmth of your thighs. “You don’t know that and I was not touching myself.”

“You were and I’m 100-percent sure of it.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“Don’t worry, doll. You’ve done more than enough to get me where I need to be,” he hissed.

Realistically speaking this was the goal—Your goal for the day. But the reality of Jungkook’s whine sounding near the shell of your ear made you imagine things that weren’t even there for the third time in the past few weeks.

And there he was, beside you once again, with his cock springing out from above the hem of his shorts. It was longer; bigger than you’d imagined but he made use of his veiny hands moving up and down his length with a hastened pace. Quickly working his way right into an orgasm.

“Tell me how it feels, JK,” you rubbed your legs together in search of some ease — perhaps to ignore the pain or the desirous sting threading dangerously near to overwhelmingness but it wasn’t helping. You reach out for one of the decorative cushions sitting on your bed and quickly rid yourself of your panties hiking your skirt up past your belly button. You weren’t quite sure what came over you but looking over at ‘JK’ laying beside you began swaying your hips against the cotton cushion to match his exact pace.

“Fuck—“ you squealed.

“Oh, doll,” he let out a rasp groan, “t-that’s exactly what I needed. Keep going please. I’m so close.”

Minutes went by since the two of you began exchanging the alluring songs escaping each of your lips. It was an orchestra of pleasure and you kept at it until your whines combined with his grunts signaled the peak of your actions.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed out, “I’ve never done that before.”

“What?”

“This has never happened during one of my sessions.”

You smiled, “I’m glad I could be of assistance.”

“Visit me more often,” he said, “I mean it. Don’t wait another two weeks.”

“I’ll be back. Don’t worry Jung—JK,” you cleared your throat as an attempt to mask your almost massive fuck up. Hopefully he didn’t hear.

“I’ll be here.”

“Bye.”

The call was disconnected. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Not again.

Hours passed since your very interesting morning with Jungkook or should you say JK. It was closer to late night and you sat on a bench just outside the library with the luminous ray of the moon singling you out like a spotlight. You were tired and just like the moon sat without any stars surrounding it to keep it company you chose to be here, alone; secluded just for a little while. You needed it.

The night hadn’t begun this way. Not at all.

Your friend had texted you hours prior letting you know that a couple of people from research class had noticed a mini research project due for that Monday. And like any other group of panicked college students you all grabbed your shit and ran to the library to get the work done. Back then, you didn’t know that by ‘a few people from research class’ she also meant Jungkook.

While you could feel a kaleidoscope of butterflies flapping their wings against the lining of your stomach, there were also those pressing nerves. You know, the ones that make your hands tremble, your tongue feel heavy inside of your mouth and your palms balmy all together.

It was a variation of your own personal heaven and hell.

“May I know why you’re out here sitting all by yourself,” there weren’t winds strong enough to make you shiver the way his voice had just now.

Would he recognize your voice from this morning? Maybe he would. You pressed your hands against the wooden bench and took a deep breath.

It’s gonna be okay. You chanted. It’s going to be okay.

“Oh, I’m done with the project and I just needed a bit of fresh air,” you waved your hands around in an attempt to point at the library but you ended up pointing in the opposite direction, “it was just too hot in there.”

“Yeah. .” He slouched down and placed his head on the back rest, “I needed out too.”

“Did you get to finish?”

“I did,” he laughed, “I chose the effects of tattoos in the workplace.”

“Ha—“ you guffawed, shaking your head, “I’m sure you meant to make a statement.”

“Of course, doll.” There it was again. The effects it had on you were so grand meanwhile he just brushed right past it like absolutely nothing.

“How many tattoos do you have anyway?”

He rolled his sleeve up revealing his arm all the way up to his bicep, “I lost count after filing in the gaps for my sleeve but I’ll confidently say I’m well over thirty.”

“You must have all of the secrets to pain tolerance,” you stared at the art pieces adoring his honey skin.

“I would say I have it more under control now than I ever did before,” his head turned towards you and his dark eyes pierced your soul, “I almost cried during my first one though. Hurt so fucking bad I had to keep taking breaks.”

“Which one was it?”

He brought his arm up and showed you the flower sitting right on his right elbow.

“Can I?” That was your way of asking if it was okay for you to touch it without having to actually say it.

“Yeah.”

Your fingertips traced the small orange flower along with its surroundings which sprawled out into a larger floral design. Sparks of electric currents traveled from your fingers as they remained in contact with his skin. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too but you were too afraid to ask.

“Did you get it shaded and colored in one go?”

“I couldn’t,” he shuddered, likely remembering that very day at the tattoo shop, “hurts just thinking about it.”

“But then you went and got a whole sleeve?”

“I guess I’m still fond of a bit of pain.”

“That’s psychotic.”

“Maybe,” he closed his eyes lightly, as a cheeky wide-toothed grin formed on his lips. That was the last of your interaction for a bit, the two of you just sat back in silence enjoying the serenity of the night. But of course, silence seemed to be a burden on Jungkook’s behalf because it didn’t really last too long. “Hey, you wanna go get ice cream? I hear the shop just off campus is open late.”

“Is this the kick start to your summer itinerary for me?”

“Could be. . if you want it to.”

“Sure. Let’s go.”

With a stunned expression your friend watched as Jungkook followed behind you, into the library to collect your belongings only to see you exit with him once more. Even though the windows you saw as her mouth remained agape as you disappeared into the night with the man that occupied so much of your heart and mind.

Seconds after you felt your phone vibrate continuously in your back pocket. Knowing it was probably just her with an abundance of prying questions you ignored it for now instead choosing to focus on the paved road ahead you. There are so many beautiful things to admire at this time of night — the way the bright green leaves sway with the cool breeze on the branches they’d call home for the duration of the summer, there was also the way the brightness of the street light illuminated the way to your destination. There were no lone frigid gusts whispering their way through the city, instead there was the buzzing chatter of on-goers bringing the streets back to life.

Jungkook and you occupied the sidewalk taking in every scene, every conversation, every person, every detail in your way and just as you neared the little ice cream shop you saw the way his doe eyes lit up at the vibrant shade of pink on the concrete walls.

“What should I get you?” You sat on one of the small tables lined up on the sidewalks just a few feet away from the shop.

“Chocolate please,” you pulled out your wallet just as he placed his hand on top of yours and shook his head.

“I invited you, didn't I?”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

Across from you at another small table you spotted a couple seemingly on their first day. You could tell because the girl as beautiful as she was, she wore the same gitters you did. The way her fingers trembled whenever the boy across from her inched his hand closer to hers.

She wore the exact same gitters you did but you were not here on a date. You were merely an acquaintance. Someone Jungkook knew in passing — likely to become someone he once knew once this charade of wanting to show you around for the summer was over.

“Are you always this deep in your own thoughts?” Jungkook sat across from you on the table and handed you the wafer cone with two chocolate scoops.

“Not always. .” you took a swift lick of your ice cream, “sometimes is probably a bit more accurate though.”

“May I ask why that is?”

“There are too many things dancing around in my head to figure out the steps to,” you began playing around with the edge of the napkins laid out on the table.

“Do any of those pressing thoughts have to do with your shit taste in ice cream flavors?” The dimples on his rosey cheeks were scaled to your meter of comfort and you couldn’t help but reciprocate his cheerful manner.

“Shit?” you sneered, “if we’re talking shit, strawberry is definitely first on the list.”

“Strawberry ice cream tastes like actual strawberries. Now please tell me what chocolate ice cream tastes ‘cause it is certainly not chocolate.”

“Bullshit. It does taste like chocolate.”

“Now, that's bullshit,” he continued, savoring his frozen dessert. “Will you ever tell me why you despise the summertime so much?”

“I do not despise it. I just—“ you sighed, “there are just experiences that simply do not wash away with the currents of the beach waves.”

“That’s awfully poetic.”

“I like to dramatize my life experiences.”

“I won’t make you elaborate. I will, however, smother you with my favorite activities until you have no choice but to fall in love with the season,” he strapped his backpack on and called over to you, “you ready?”

Whoever said spinning around on the roundabout after devouring an entire cone of ice cream was a good idea — was wrong. Of course, Jungkook’s ideas of the perfect summer night were made up of late night escapees, sweets and indigestion.

Jungkook, the culprit in this entire scheme plopped down on the multi-colored metal surface, clearly out of breath after having spun you so fast the heavens were now where the ground once used to be.

“You are the worst,” you laid down on the roundabout, eyes closed, swallowing down the nausea creeping up the back of your throat, “if I puke. . It is entirely on you.”

“Last I recall, you’re the one who wanted to be spun around on this thing.”

“Yes.” You continued taking deep breaths, “keyword spin not attempt to blast me off into the Milky Way.”

“You are such a drama queen.”

“There is nothing dramatic about the way my head is spinning right now,” you felt his shower brush against yours — he was now laying beside you. You opened your eyes slightly, turning your head in his direction, “are there now three of you?”

“Here,” he raised a hand to your face, “how many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two?” you lied. He had all five fingers up.

“I know you see my whole hand is sitting right in front of your face right now,” he rolled his eyes.

“Actually, I don’t. That’s why I said two,” you stuck your tongue out at him before redirecting your attention back to the sky. “Do you think the moon ever gets lonely up there?”

Jungkook followed your line of vision to the sky above where the moon still sat all by itself, “I’ve never actually thought about it but I think everything and everyone can feel lonely once in a while.”

“I think I’m like the moon.”

His voice was soft, “in what way?”

“I guess—“ you battled with all the words crashing against each other in your brain, “in the sense that compared to Earth and most planets, the moon is so small right?”

“Yes.”

“I just feel like that. You know? Like a single grain of sand in a sandbox — feels like I’m an ant in a world of giants.”

“While it is true that the moon is fairly small in comparison to most of the planets in our solar system,” he began. “It is also a beacon of light. Without the moon our nights would be composed of utter darkness, the ocean tides would fall and the course of the life we know would be altered. Without the moon our lives would be shit.”

“Right.”

“Small yet consequential. You get that?”

“I do.”

You told no fib. His words were a warm blanket of solace wrapping itself tightly around your figure — serving as a shield, protecting you from anything that could perforate through your being; your soul.

Your parents had always been the main assailants in the attacks you had experienced throughout your life. After your brother walked away from home they pushed you aside, neglected you and left you to raise yourself. They were never there for birthdays or the holidays or summer vacations or even just regular days. You were a thirteen year old girl alone not being able to decipher why all of their grief from your brother’ abandonment came at the expense of the love they claimed to have had for you.

All your life you tried to work out if you’d done anything wrong but you finally see that it wasn’t you. Their neglect was based on their inability to be parents before anything else.

So yes, you were like the moon. Small yet consequential.

Jungkook’s pinky brushed up against yours slightly as he traced random shapes on your skin; sort of like asking permission before actually holding your hand. You looked at each other and before you knew it he wrapped his hand to yours. The warmth radiating from him was soothing and like nothing you’ve ever felt before. If you were sure of one thing — it’s you never wanted him to let go.

You just wanted to stay there with him in that moment forever.

“Jungkook, you better shake off all that sand out here or you are forbidden from entering my room,” you threatened, which only resulted in a mischievous grin from the man and the sand to go flying in your direction as he purposely tried to get it on you.

“Is that all better?”

You snorted, brushing off any of the remaining sand he did get in you, “you are so mean.”

A week of summer adventures had graced your life for the better — Jungkook had burdened himself with the mission to get you to enjoy the wonders of the scorching summer months and he was succeeding. You have enjoyed all of it thus far. Even having the ocean sand in places where the sun doesn’t shine.

The schedule doesn’t cease and while your platonic relationship with Jungkook blossomed though you couldn’t completely shut out the feelings that sent your heart into a frenzy whenever he was near. You like him so bad, but your friendship with him was like a gem, a rare gem and you wouldn’t trade that for anything on this entire planet.

“You know what’s weird?” Jungkook walked out from the bathroom just as you finished getting dressed. One towel hugged his waist, while the other he used to dry his hair.

“Jungkook?” you yelped, “clothes.”

“Oh, come on, you saw all of this at the beach,” he pointed at his sculpted physique. You did and you were almost sent into cardiac arrest then — what makes him think you’d be any better off within the congested walls of your room. He was feet away near the bathroom door but it felt like he was just beside you.

“Whatever. .” you turned around trying to keep yourself busy with something else, something that did not involve gawking at him. “This wall—“ he noticed you weren’t looking, “this wall right above your bed it looks so fucking familiar.”

“Jungkook, you’ve been in here about a dozen times in the past week,” your body stiffened as you felt a nauseating flutter in your stomach.

“You’re right . .” your back was still turned towards him but you could hear the floorboards creak as he inched closer, “but that right there only confirms it. There’s also your voice, that birthmark sitting right below your bottom lip and not to mention your nail polish you always keep the exact same shade.”

“Jungkook—“

“Not very clever I’d say,” his chin rested on the nook of your neck, “especially we ended on becoming this close.”

You wanted to say something — anything but you couldn’t actually speak.

“After our first time on Eargasm together,” he whispered into your ear, “do you know how much I thought of you? Your voice was the only thing that has played in my head since then. I wanted. . needed to meet you. The girl behind the black screen.”

“How long have you known?”

“Since the day you went to get your card fixed at the student center,” he continued, “your voice is soft, euphonic, harmonious, even when you’re cumming. It’s easy to distinguish.”

You shuddered as a result of his dulcet praise, “I’m so transparent but your tattoos ratted you out especially the snake sitting right below your wrist.”

“Problem is I wasn’t trying to hide, doll.”

“You didn’t care?”

“I didn’t care.”

Turning around the two of you remained face to face examining even the tiniest of details within one another. The pale red tint on the apple of his cheeks matched the tone of his lips almost perfectly.

His lips . . they were so inviting. You were sluggishly levitating towards him before his words slammed at your brakes.

“I think we should get going,” Jungkook said standing by the door holding his keys out to you. Was he kicking you out of your own dorm? “You wanna wait for me in the car? I’ll be right down.”

“Uh—“ you were a bit taken back with disappointment and just a bit of confusion. Was he really oblivious to it? “Yeah, that sounds fine. Don’t be long.”

A million thoughts scrambled your brain on the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car as your eyes drifted off toward the sun disappearing into the horizon. Love was never your forte but if you were sure of one thing it’s that what you felt although unspoken was evident; crystal clear more so. So you replayed what had happened in your room time and time again to decipher when it all had gone to shit. Perhaps, he was in fact still angry about you knowing it was him all along. . But you’d apologized when joined you in the car and he reassured you that it was fine and he wasn’t mad.

Looking back towards the driver seat, Jungkook remained with one hand on the wheel and his eyes glued to the road ahead. Not a word escaped his lips. Why is it so difficult to figure out what men are thinking?

Once you arrived at the drive-in movie theater, Jungkook parked and quickly dismissed himself to buy snacks while you tried to find the station provided to be able to hear the movie and finally you did.

“Okay,” Jungkook opened the car door, taking his previous seat back on the driver’s side, “I got popcorn, cherry slushies and a bunch of gummies. I just guessed on everything hoping it wasn’t a complete miss.”

“Of course I like these. Thank you, Jungkook.” You’d like anything he brought back for you simply because it came from him, “You know, I thought this style of movie watching ceased to exist after the 90s.”

“Yeah, I guess there was a decline in popularity after the 90s. Now, in some places it is once again sought out as a popular summer activity.”

“That is evident,” you looked around at the packed lot out in front of you. You guys scored the very last spot in the very last row, “Do you come here often?” Only you knew the real undertones of that question. ‘Do you bring other girls here often?’ This is what you actually meant.

“Not often,” he took a sip of his slushie

“Not often,” you repeated under your breath with a residue of bitterness left in your tastebuds. You weren’t sure if your drinking had grown pungent or if his words simply landed a punch in your gut triggering your acid reflux.

Patience, patience and endurance. You’d neared your limit for both while your heart continued its call for Jungkook but he simply could not hear. Was he really oblivious to it? You wondered once again. Was the wailing just white noise to him . . Non-existent? Could he not hear it as loudly as you could? Because to you it was all you could hear, the only thing you could pay mind to. To you the movie was long gone and all you wanted was for him to notice you. Not simply as friends, but to embrace what you knew he briefly felt for you back at the dorm. To actually see you.

“Are you okay?” his hand slowly moved to shove some more popcorn into his mouth. His words were slack, almost as if he’d been put to function in slow motion, “do you not like the movie?”

You couldn’t care less about the fucking movie. “The movie is fine.”

“Are you sure?” Was that concern in his voice? “I can get you something else from the snack bar,“ he reached for the handle, “let ne get you a water.“

“No,“ you held his wrist, “just stay please.”

“The snack bar is less than ten steps away. Are you sure you don’t want it?”

“I don’t want you to go.” You weren’t sure you were being clear so you tried your best to elaborate, “I know technically left my own room earlier but I didn’t want to and now I do not want you to go.”

You heaved feeling the pace of your quickening heart beating your chest. Then mumbled, “I left only because you asked me to but I wanted to stay with you.”

His eyebrows were furrowed as he tried to unscramble your inept confession. Soon his chocolate eyes dilated realizing the weight of your words.

“Like?” He asked, allowing his silence to fill in the gaps.

“Yes,” you confessed. “I wanted to stay in my room with you and spend the night together.”

“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. Truthfully, I wanted you to stay but I didn’t want to overstep after we talked about the Eargasm thing,” He turned his head away from his hands gripping the steering wheel towards you in the passenger seat.

“I like you. I’ve liked you before Eargasm Jungkook,” you could’ve sworn the sky began plummeting down on you while you just sat amongst the deafening silence, with your heart poured out before you — and still Jungkook said nothing, “Uh, you know what forget I ever. .” you paused taking another look in his direction but Jungkook simply hid behind wide eyes, “actually, no. Scratch that. I like you but I’ll be okay.”

“You are much braver than me, you know,” he spoke quietly, “a lot of my life I’ve lived hidden behind JK and though he is my other half he is not truly who I am. He is much more courageous than I’ll ever be but you were brave so I know I owe you a reciprocation of the same transparency. I’ve liked you from the moment I walked into class that very first day and I’ve only fallen for you harder with each passing day.”

“Jungkook.”

He hummed.

“Kiss me.”

In the matter of seconds the two of you climbed over to the back seat — the clashing of your body heat drew sweat beads to cascade down your temples. Your attention was far off that though, instead you were lulled by the softness of his silken lips pressed against yours. You could feel the thud of your combined heartbeat in the way your bodies were pressed so tightly against each other. His palm resided by your waist as he continued tugging at your top.

He pulled away, keeping his forehead pressed against yours, “are you sure you want to do this here?”

You looked around feeling locked in by the tint of Jungkook’s car windows, “I’m sure.”

Before your back could meet his leather seat, Jungkook began pulling your panties down and pushing your denim skirt up past your belly button. Jungkook was always gentle whether it was with his words or his touch, that was the truth, and today was no different.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Jungkook’s usual dove eyes were now burning with hunger — desire. His hands rested on your knees and he began spreading your legs farther and farther away from each other causing your underwear to become soaked. You hadn’t really noticed how spacious the back of his car was until now, until he kneeled in front of you. His fingers traced the outline of your thighs as he reached under your skirt quickly pulling your panties down to your ankles.

You closed your eyes, melting back into the seat. The feeling came in waves you quickly realized. First, there was the anticipation as your body urged him to touch your body but he only allowed his digits to cloud over your cunt. Then, there was the taunting of his teasing touch where he would drag the pads of his fingers along your folds — a touch so agonizing you found yourself driving your hips against him for some relief.

“Come on, doll,” Jungkook cooed as two of his fingers sat at your entrance with no intention of moving, “I thought you were more patient than this.”

“I’ll be good,” you heaved, “I promise.”

“Promise?” He pushed past the muscle of your entrance quickly invading your insides and in that moment you could’ve sworn you were no longer in his car — instead you lived amongst the celestial body of lumineers lighting the night sky. Words poured out of you in the form of profanities featured by the moans you couldn’t seem to suppress the quicker he pumped in and out of you.

That was it. That feeling. You held on as if your life depended on it. There was nothing, nothing else that could claim your attention the way Jungkook was at that very moment.

“Oh, right there,” your nails dug into his shoulder blades as he reached the very spot in your insides which blurred your vision and caused your legs to shake just a bit, “j-just keep going right there.”

His lips quickly landed on yours for a kiss so torrid you could taste the remnants of his cherry chapstick on your tongue. Enveloped by the overstimulation of the kiss and his fingers inside of you, the remaining piece of string which held you together snapped and behind your eyelids all you saw were spots of flashing white lights.

“Jungkook. .” You waited just a moment to catch your breath before patting the seat right beside you, “come sit with me. Unwind.”

“It’s hard to think of anything else when you’re sitting right beside me looking like that,” he hummed, “ all fucked out when I’ve only fingered you.”

“Just. . trust me,” As soon as he sat you placed your hand on his chest climbing onto his lap placing your legs on either side of his, “will you do that?”

“I trust you.”

Even the mess Jungkook had already created in between your thighs you felt that concupiscent armor burning deep inside of you — it was like a wildfire you couldn’t extinguish. Jungkook’s hands landed on your waist, his grip was sweaty against your skin, he began you forward and backward on his lap. And you began reciprocating that movement at a rhythm equivalent to his.

The temperature continued to rise within the enclosure of his car and a mixture of his rough grunts and your pleased hums began to fill the space. His clothed cock and your bare clit continued to meet in the filthiest of ways yet you couldn't resist but cry out for more. You craved more.

“I-I need you, Jungkook,” you whimpered.

If you thought you’d known pleasure before there was nothing compared to the way Jungkook’s massive cock felt inside your walls. It’s as if his dick was personally crafted to slip into you. God, he wasn’t moving a single muscle — you weren’t either and still you couldn’t help the countless moans dripping right off your lips.

“Are you okay?” he asked, “can I move?”

“Please,” you cried out.

In being the embodiment of sin, Jungkook embraced his mercilessness as a result of your yelp when his cock rammed into you with a drawn out yet deep thrust. As he slipped in and out if you saw the way he almost pulled out entirely only to guide you back down harshly on his length. Over and over and over. Your head lulled back and you were sure your rolled eyes could recite the contents of the inside of your skull.

“D-don’t stop,” you choked out, placing a hand on the hood for support as Jungkook continued to have you at his mercy, “I’m so close.”

You couldn’t really see in the midst of the pleasure coursing through you but you could feel the way his warm lips landed kisses around your breasts while his hands caressed your sides.

“P-please don’t stop,” the car began moving along with his pace and you were sure the others around you were now aware of the events unfolding right beside them. But you didn’t fucking care. Jungkook’s hand reached down in between your thighs near the exact point where his length disappeared inside of you, and he began stimulating your clit — drawing out small circles. You were shaking with pleasure spilling a string of curses. This continued until you finally reached your peak through screams of his name and your juices coating his cock while he poured into you.

“Fuck,” you cried out sweetly as he pulled out, “that was amazing.”

“It was better than amazing.”

You laid your back against him as he wrapped you up in his warm embrace. The two of you were warm and sweaty, “so what’s on the itinerary for tomorrow?” You asked.

“We’ll go anywhere you wanna go. Together.”

“Together,” you smiled.

a/n: this is mildly edited sooo . . . thread lightly for any mistakes lol. Also, the smut is pretty average but my brain wasn’t working so sorry about that in advance <3

🔖: @shaybtsfoever @bjoriis @sharkipoonis @hoseokteardrop @ravensidea @skzthinker @cherryluvhobi

reblogs, likes, comments, replies are always appreciated.

#bts #bts smut #bts reactions #bts imagines #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #brief mention of tae namjoon and mr. kim aka kim seokjin #bts jungkook smut

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yoonia · 8 months

Text

Mirrors: what becomes of us | jjk (m)

⤑ Summary | One year has passed, and the unmistakable fuzzy feelings that have nothing to do with lust continue to grow. Yet while he is able to look deep into your heart, he has yet to allow you to see what is hidden inside his. He still puts up a hard front, making you believe that standing by his side may not be as different than standing in front of fragile mirrors.

⤑ Title | Mirrors: what becomes of us ⤑ Pairings | Jungkook x female reader ⤑ Genre | Smut, Angst, Friends with benefits to lovers!au ⤑ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; pwp (there’s a plot here if you squint), explicit sex scene, dom!Jungkook, brat!reader, partly clothed sex (oc will be wearing her shoes…again), dirty talk, mentions of deepthroating, praise kink, stripping, nudity, size kink, breast/nipple play, clit play, masturbation (mutual), oral sex (female receiving), grinding, face fucking/riding, minor ass play and ass kissing, cum eating, finger licking, mirror sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, standing sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, orgasm control, orgasm denial, multiple sex scenes, multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare ⤑ Word count | 8,5k words

⤑ Story guide: Mirrors

⤑ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi

⤑ Author’s Note | Found this rough draft while I was moving Mirrors back to Wattpad after the site deleted the book version and decided to rewrite it so I can release it for Jungkook’s birthday. Well, let’s just pretend that I didn’t post this a week late lol. While this story is connected to Mirrors, this one-shot can be read as a standalone.

You can feel the heat of his gaze without having to take a look.

It is not too hard to notice it when he has been doing the same the entire night.

The dinner party that you attended with him earlier now seems like a distance away, with nothing left but flickering images of the people whose names you have already forgotten and fleeting, hazy moments of it left in your memory. Because all you could sense and focus on had been his presence, and nothing could draw you away from his unwavering attention that kept tethering you towards him for the rest of the evening.

Looking up at the full-body mirror in front of you, you keep your eyes on your own reflection instead of focusing on the dimly lit bedroom behind you, denying the urge to turn and find him in the darkness. Knowing that he has his eyes on you only makes you want to give him a show as you slowly strip down all the fancy jewelries that you wore for the night. Starting from the glowing earrings, doing it gently as you take off one piece and then the other, before reaching back to the clasp holding your necklace together.

Just then, Jungkook slowly appears from the shadows, taking his position right behind you with his eyes locked on the reflection of your face. You return his gaze through the mirror. The intense look coming through his eyes quickly makes your skin tingle and warm without him having to touch you.

“Allow me,” he gently says with the tip of his lips rising to a grin, and you lower your hand so he can unclasp your necklace for you. Like an expert, he does it so easily without looking away from your face. Yet he takes his time with it, as he takes this chance to touch you after having to keep his hands away from you all night long. He slowly drags his soft knuckles against the nape of your neck as he pulls the necklace off, drawing a shudder that comes out through your exhale of breath, before he finally places the necklace on your palm.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he suddenly says, and the first reaction that you can give him is a scoff, though you doubt that it can do much to hide the way his compliment warms your cheeks.

“Only tonight?” you ask to tease him.

“Hmm—” he hums softly as he watches you putting away your jewelries before taking a step closer, pressing his warmth against your back. His hands find your waist, while his eyes once again find your reflection in the mirror. He keeps his gaze on you as he leans down, the dark intention you see glowing through his eyes becomes an invisible restraint that keeps you from moving away as he gently presses his lips on your shoulder, staying just an inch away from the straps of your dress. “You’ve always captivated me, but seeing you tonight was exceptional.”

You look down to hide your bashful smile, though it is quite hard to even try to pretend as if your cheeks aren’t getting warmer when he already knows what his compliments would do to you. It isn’t rare for him to surprise you like this, either with his words or the things that he does which often catches you off guard. And he always loves the reactions that he manages to coax out of you through the things that he does to you, through his sweet words and, of course, what has often affected you the most, his sweet praises.

“Do you remember what we used to do in front of this mirror?” he whispers against your skin.

While the warm breath that falls on your skin already does wonders to your body, it is the memory that he is bringing back which makes you feel as if you have a thousand wings fluttering inside your belly. The sensation isn’t only giving you warmth blooming within, but also a desire so familiar, so dark, that your next exhale of breath feels heavy, weighted down by your sudden want that starts building inside.

One year ago, you stood by this same mirror, baring yourself to him. When you stripped down your coat and dress right in front of his eyes—and yourself, when he made you watch your own reflection—and you inadvertently bared not only your heart, but also your soul for him to finally have a good look at what your true desire was.

One year has passed, and here you are, still standing right beside him instead of running away, and he is still embracing you with the same touches, blessing you with the same kisses, with not a single sign of the passion that you shared diminishing with the passing time. Just like how you had expected it would have.

As if he knows where your mind is drifting away towards, Jungkook nips at the spot beneath your earlobe and whispers, “We had quite a lot of fun with this mirror, didn’t we?”

You meet his gaze through the mirror and return the sly smirk he is giving you with an incredulous laugh. “Fun, hmmm?” Your question fades to a sigh when he continues kissing your skin, slowly going up and down the side of your neck that you can barely think clearly beyond the sound of your pulsing blood. “I think,”—you sigh when a shudder runs through your body. “We may have to review your definition of ‘fun’.”

With a soft chuckle, Jungkook tightens his grip around your waist for a brief squeeze, before he slowly slides his hands to your front, stopping at your stomach where he gently presses you back to him. “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy every second of it,” he whispers right as he captures your earlobe between his lips. “As far as I remember—” he stops briefly to press his lips against your pulse, making you gasp softly to the touch. “We both enjoyed our sweet moments using this mirror.”

There is a dark look twinkling in his eyes, and you can slowly tell where this is heading. That he has no qualms in taking you back to those moments when he first introduced you to one of his most wicked desires.

Even if you keep trying to deny it, you have to agree that you did enjoy everything from that fateful night. The mirror may have more to do than to simply show your reflections, as it helped reveal what your hearts had truly desired—both to you and Jungkook. Even now, you can clearly see the clear desire that Jungkook is currently feeling, as it is evident through his deep gaze, his shallow breaths that have been falling on your skin, and the drag in his touch, as he keeps moving his hands upward, leading towards the mounds of your breasts.

“Why don’t I help remind you of those fun times?” he murmurs against your skin, the last warning that he gives before his thumbs graze against the underside of your covered breasts, igniting the burning flame inside you. Your thin, silky dress and the delicate lace material of your bra can only do so little to prevent you from feeling the heat of his touch on your skin.

Your chest arches into his hands, and your head falls back as you gasp at the shudder that is now rushing through you. Through your hazy eyes, you meet his gaze through the mirror, seeing him licking his lips and his eyes darkening at the sight of you as you are embracing your desire. “Is that a yes?” he asks, while his fingers continue grazing up the mounds of your breasts, finding your covered nipples and rubbing against them until they grow hard under his touch. “Talk to me, baby.”

“Mmmh—yess!” your words erupt into a moan when Jungkook pinches at your nipples from over your dress, drawing out your cry when he continues by simultaneously rolling his fingers around them and pinching them. Your body jerks when the mix of pain and pleasure comes rushing all the way down, and you can feel your core pulsing with a new need that is demanding to be sated.

“Yes, Jungkook. Please—”

At the sound of your begging, Jungkook releases you and pulls his hands away. With his fingers on your chin, he turns your face towards him. No more words are needed when he captures your lips, and you immediately melt into the kiss even before he begins devouring you. The kiss continues for a moment longer, just enough to help distract you from his wandering hands. While he slips one arm around your waist to press you back to his chest, his other hand moves upward, slipping the straps of your dress off of your shoulder, taking one side off and then the other. The silky fabric falls and pools down around your feet once he pulls his arms away from you.

“Sneaky bastard,” you murmur against his lips once he pulls back from the kiss.

Clicking his tongue, Jungkook makes a disapproving noise as he whispers, “You have such a foul mouth.” He reaches up and runs his thumb across your lips, smearing the rest of your lipstick that still remains after his kiss. “Maybe I should teach you how to behave.”

You bite your bottom lip and flutter your eyes open for him, lowering your voice when you respond back to him with, “You never minded with my mouth when I was doing all the naughty things I did to you last night.”

A deep groan escapes from Jungkook when his mind wanders back to the night before, when you have your lips wrapped around his cock while you were on your knees for him, taking all of his length down your throat to bring him pleasure under his swift command. The way he responds to your teasing pleases you, yet you keep it to yourself, feigning innocence as you return his gaze.

“You’re being naughty tonight. But you’re lucky that I am in no mood to punish you for being a brat,” he murmurs. Jungkook pulls back and turns you back to face the mirror before you. His jaw is tense when he says, “I love seeing you like this. When you are stripped down and you look ready to be thoroughly fucked.”

A breathless laugh escapes you, though you cannot stop the flutter that you feel when you finally turn to look at your own reflection and see exactly what he is seeing from you—your makeup that is partly ruined with your lipstick smeared and lips swollen after sharing the kiss, your body that is partly exposed, with only a strapless bra and your lacy underwear left covering your skin, your dress that has been left as nothing but a heap of mess around your feet, and the pair of heels that he had told you not to take off until he tells you to.

Jungkook’s hands return to you. His fingers are tender as he reaches out to touch your waist, keeping you steady. “Let me see you take those lacy things off,” he says. His voice is stern, yet breathless at the same time, as if there is a wave of emotions engulfing him. You have doubts that it would be anything different to what you are feeling right now as you stand under his gaze. The same dark gaze that feels like invisible fingers tracing your skin as he runs it up and down your body.

Reaching back, you hold his gaze with your own through the mirror while you unclasp your bra. You hold it up with your palm, keeping it from falling and exposing your breasts a little too soon, and his knowing gaze flickers at your face. “Tease,” he murmurs, drawing a soft giggle out of you.

Finally, you drop the bra and your breasts come into view. His eyes are easily drawn to them, just like they always would when you are completely bare for him to see. Yet he still doesn’t miss a thing when you trail your hands lower, reaching down to the lacy panties that you still have on. By the time your fingers slide under the waistband of your undergarment, Jungkook reaches down to undo his belt. The two of you move simultaneously as you slide your panties down your hips, to your thighs, while he kicks off his shoes and socks and slowly begins taking off his pants, his boxers joining right after.

Once every piece of clothing is left piling on the floor, Jungkook steps out of the mess he created behind to reach out to you. His hands find your waist before he starts running them up and down your curves, doing his best to avoid the more sensitive parts of your body. Yet every part of you that is vacant of his touch still tingles. An instant craving to have his fingers touching them as well keeps building up. It grows just as strongly as your desire to reach out to him, to run your fingers down his hot skin that you get to see through his partly unbuttoned shirt and wrap your hand around his cock that has grown semi-hard, its tip pointing your way, like a promise for a good time that is so easy to reach.

It only takes one look into his eyes to know that he isn’t going to be giving it to you that easily. And he proves you right once again when a grin appears on his face, and the familiar twinkle that you would often see in his eyes whenever his wicked idea comes to him makes its appearance.

Jungkook steps back, his eyes remaining on your reflection as he pulls his hands away from your body. “Keep your eyes on the mirror and touch yourself. Show me everything you want me to do to you.”

He reaches up to continue unbuttoning his shirt while holding his gaze on you the entire time. Tension builds before your hands begin to move, rising steadily the more you get to see the lines of his chest as the shirt comes apart. The moment your fingers come up to brush against your breasts, desire ripples through you. If he cannot see it from the way your body tenses and your legs shift when the urge to press them together rises, he would be able to hear it through your sharp inhale of breath.

Stifling down the sounds threatening to come out of your throat, you look at him straight in the eyes and question him, “Like this? Is this what you want to see?”

Jungkook says nothing as she shrugs off his shirt, but his gaze says a lot more. The hunger in his eyes is palpable, growing darker and more intense as you start kneading your breasts, rubbing and massaging them gently until you start feeling good. Every part of your bashfulness goes out the window when you feel pleasure. A soft moan slips from you when you move your thumbs, rolling them in circular motions around your nipples to draw the delicate shudders going down your spine. You keep your eyes on him, watching the way his chest trembles with each deep intake of breath he makes, and it is quick to help you recognise your own hunger that needs to be sated.

“Keep doing that, baby,” you hear him whispering to you while he seems to be lost in the sight of you pleasuring yourself. You are not even sure if he realises that he had spoken, judging from the way he remains still, transfixed with what he is seeing.

His gaze follows your hand as you move it down your torso. You are not even close to where the tingles in your body are building up the strongest, yet your legs are already shaking, your heartbeat keeps picking up, and you can feel the heat coiling inside you as you get closer to your pulsing core.

With his eyes remaining on you, it feels like everything just sparks violently the moment your fingers come touching at your folds. Spreading your legs, you give him a better view through the mirror as you part your slick folds, showing him your throbbing clit. Jungkook licks his lips, as if he is picturing himself touching you, tasting you, and the image appears in your head right then just before you move your fingers, rubbing your clit in a similar rhythm to the fingers that are moving around your nipple.

“Are you wet for me?” Jungkook says, his voice drips lower as he watches you stimulating yourself. He seems transfixed on you, that it almost seems like he is moving under a spell when his hand come down, engulfing the length of his cock which has been growing stiff while he continues watching you.

Knowing that he is just as affected to this moment as you are only elevates everything. Even his question sounds so sinful. Even if it wouldn’t be the first time that you’ve ever heard him asking about something so obscene, it still does the magic. Your eyes flutter to close as you rub against your clit, and your arousal seems to ooze right out of you with the shudder that comes from your touch.

“Yes,” you whisper with a soft moan escaping you. “I’m so wet, Jungkook.”

He takes a step closer, slowly, but not as slow as the drag of his palm along the length of his cock. Even with his eyes on you, Jungkook continues giving himself a few lazy strokes, then his other hand finds your waist to catch you from swaying. Lost in the pleasure you are giving yourself, and the heady sight of him stroking his hard cock, you don’t notice the way your body is swaying and trembling, slowly losing your balance. Until the touch of his hand on your skin helps you feel it.

“You want me to touch you,” he moves his hand from your waist, joining your hand as he cups the underside of your breast and roughly palms it while whispering, “here?”

The cry that slips out of your lips is the kind of sound that you can’t recognise as your own. How you manage to remain standing is beyond you, when it seems like there is a hot wave rushing inside you. Beneath you, your knees begin trembling, but you can hardly focus on it, when the pleasure continues rising, increasing faster when your joined hands are kneading firmly at your breast. You follow his gaze as he looks down, watching closely as you rub your fingers back and forth against your clit.

Dark lust fills his eyes, and it pushes you to give him more. Just as Jungkook’s fingers give your hardened nipple a tight pinch, you slide your fingers into your pussy, pushing into your walls. You can hear the sound of his breath getting caught in his chest, and you tease him with a soft voice,

“I…want you to touch me”—you gasp when your fingers hit right at your sweet spot—”here.”

You push your fingers deeper, drawing a shudder that he can clearly feel now that he has his hand on you. “Fuck,” his muted curse comes with a gasp. Pride overcomes you knowing that you are the reason for him to react this way. Except he gives you no time to revel in it, when he suddenly pulls you back. A gasp slips out of you when you are pressed back against his chest, his hard cock is pressing at your back, making you pulse from the inside when you can feel his thickness without having to see it, and the hand that he used to stroke himself comes down to your front.

You find it hard to look away from your own reflection, seeing with your own eyes the way your body is trembling in his hold. Your chest keeps rising and falling with ragged breaths, though it almost seems like you are pressing your breast further into his kneading palm. Instead of touching you right away, Jungkook grabs your wrist and gently pulls your hand out of your pussy. Your fingers glisten with your arousal, and he brings them up to your lips.

“Taste them,” he whispers to you. And just like a spell, it drives your lust-driven mind to follow through, as you bring your fingers into your mouth and suck every single drop of your slickness right before his eyes. Moaning at your own taste, the heat inside you burns hotter, and his eyes seem to grow even darker with his hunger.

He reaches down between your legs, circling around your wet folds for a brief moment before making his way in to find your clit. He draws out a moan from you with his deft fingertips as he runs them through your wet slit, sweeping across your delicate skin, the slick sound of your dampness reaching to your ears as he keeps moving his fingers between your folds.

“Hmmm—you were right. You’re already so wet, just the way I like it,” he says with a hum in his voice, and it comes out so deep that you it vibrating all the way down to where he is now touching you. Jungkook presses his lips on the top of your head and briefly closes his eyes while he continues stroking your pussy. “Makes me want to taste you so bad,” he moans softly, and it almost draws a whimper through your lips when you can picture his mouth on you, tasting you. Suddenly, his eyes are opened, and his gaze turns dangerously dark when he smirks at you and says, “Good thing I skipped dessert earlier, because now I can take it properly and relish it as much as I can.”

Jungkook pulls out his hand at the sound of your gasp, though he doesn’t stay far. Because his hands are quick to find your waist, both still warm after being attached to your most sensitive spots, then he leans down. Once again, his lips find the spot where he can feel your pulse, and then he begins kissing your neck, making you tilt your head as you enjoy the soft shudders he is drawing out of you through his kisses.

As you begin to give in to the pleasure rising inside you, he continues to trail his lips all the way down from the back of your neck, your bare shoulders, and continues kissing his way down along your spine as he comes down to his knees. The press of his lips on your bottom cheeks brings heat to your face and your entire body. It feels scandalous when he continues kissing against the area that isn’t used to getting such attention. Even more so when his hands come up, palming your soft flesh while his lips continue trailing lower, and lower, hovering close to your tight and untouched rim, making you flinch when you are not ready to have him anywhere close to that specific spot.

But you quickly relax when he moves past it, barely grazing across the area that you have decidedly to be kept forbidden to finally come down to find your folds. His grip tightens, and he gently pushes your hips down to his face, angling you just enough so he can get some space where he can reach your pussy with his mouth and tongue.

A breathless cry comes out of your lips when he slides his tongue between your slit and his mouth comes to give your nether lips a deep kiss. Your hips come down to meet his face in return, almost grinding against his mouth so you can feel more, and that is exactly what he gives you when his tongue flicks against your hot entrance and the pleasant rush you have been searching for instantly surges through your body.

Your body begins to sway yet again with the overwhelming pleasure. Even your foot slips at the stroke of his tongue across your slit, but his hands give you a firm grip on your thighs to keep you from falling. “Take deep breaths, baby. Hold still,” he whispers, before he presses his open-mouthed kiss right at your pulsing pussy.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan and curse as he begins licking your pussy, starting soft and slow, then gradually building up pressure and speed to draw more and more of the delightful spasms you feel pushing from your core. He twists his hands, sliding them into a position where he can press your bottom cheeks and open you up for him, allowing him to go deeper, to work his tongue and press his tender muscle into your pussy, then go around your clit while giving it a light suck.

Standing upright without anything to hold on to becomes extremely challenging when your body is trembling under a myriad of sensations he is giving you. Seeing him on his knees, with his face entirely buried between your legs, with the sight of his jaw and mouth working to devour your pussy only makes your mind swirl even faster. Your hands move, searching for something to hold, a leverage to keep you up. While one hand finds nothing but air to clench, the other flies to your back, finding his hair to clutch as your head falls back at the surging pleasure.

It doesn’t take long before your thighs start shaking, your pussy contracts violently to each work of his mouth and tongue, and your moans become louder at the approaching climax. You know that he can feel it when the coil inside you comes close to snapping, and just like that, he suddenly stops.

A desperate cry escapes you when he pulls back. After giving a few more kisses around your wet core, he trails his hot lips back up, across the soft skin of your bottom cheeks and up to your spine. He reaches up to pry your hand away from his hair, and brings your palm up for him to kiss. As he rises to his feet, he entwines his fingers with yours and slips his other arm around your waist to hold you still.

“Jungkook—”

“Hmm, are you mad at me? Did you think I’d let you cum without giving you permission first? Right after you used your foul mouth to talk back at me?” he asks you as he slides his hand back down. He easily finds your clit and starts rubbing against the ache in your pussy from being denied release. His touch brings the sparks of pleasure back alight and you slightly jerk against his hold. He gives your clit a sharp flick, drawing the sound of your cry, only to take away his touch from your heated center when you roll your hips.

“Not yet, baby. I want you to cum around my cock, and I want to be able to look at your face when you do,” he says, forcing you to open your eyes again when he runs his hand down your right thigh, giving it a grip as he gently lifts your leg up, exposing you both to his eyes and the mirror so you can see yourself.

Moving his other hand away from you, Jungkook reaches down and guides his cock into your sweet, throbbing pussy. A soft moan is drawn out of you when the tip of his cock is pressing against your hot entrance, yet he does nothing to push his way in until he has one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady, with the firm grip that he keeps on your right thigh holding you up and open for him.

You have never done this in such a challenging position, especially with your heels on which makes you feel off-balance. But before you have any chance to question it, Jungkook bucks his hips and slides his cock deep inside your pussy. Your walls throb around him to welcome him in, stretching around his girth as he slides deeper. A pulse engulfs him and Jungkook curses under his breath, yet it doesn’t stop him as he immediately begins to move. He starts thrusting in and out, taking it slow for a few more strokes until your muscles are no longer tense and straining against him, and only once both of your bodies are balanced enough—just enough to stop you from getting knocked down once his strokes grow stronger.

His thrusts are sloppy when he continues on, yet they gradually grow in speed and power that it feels like your entire world is being shaken. You almost feel like floating, with only his arm keeping you up and pressed against him, unable to escape or fall even when you are barely standing on the tip of your heel. Your hands find his forearm for the sake of having something to hold on to. Your nails sink into his skin when he keeps stroking deep and hard into your pussy, hitting all the pleasure spots inside that is pushing you so quickly towards the edge.

“Open your eyes,” he suddenly snaps. You don’t even realise that you have your eyes closed while you are revelling in the pleasure. Opening your eyes feels like a struggle, yet you manage. Through your bleary eyes, you find his gaze in the mirror, and that is before your gaze falls on the scene that he wants you to see.

What you get to see is the startling view of your body taking all of him in—how your body is trembling with each deep thrust he is giving you. You can see the blurry image of his cock sliding in and out of you so rapidly with each powerful thrust, while the muscles in his arms are flexing as he continues to lift your body and hold you up. His glorious tattoos seem to glow under the dim light as a thin layer of sweat appears on his skin. Looking down, there is the clear view of your pussy that seems wet, swollen on the folds, and is stretched apart to accommodate his size.

The wanton way you are taking his rough fucking seems enthralling, and it feels maddening just by watching you take everything he is giving you, while he too seems lost in his own pleasure, showing you that he feels good by sending you off to your own edge. That you are both in this together. The thought ignites the rush of pleasure that is coming to you in waves, one that he feels through the flutter of your muscles around his cock. You suck a deep breath, hoping that you can hold out just a bit longer, afraid that giving in too quickly before you are granted his permission would only grant you a punishment. The kind of punishment that he enjoys, and would only end with your pleasure.

Except that you want to have that pleasure in your body now.

Just when you half expect to hear him telling you to hold back, Jungkook surprises you when he commands you through his gritted teeth, “Play with your nipples. Make yourself cum for me.”

Your hands are shaking when you move them. As if they all have a mind of their own, they manage to find their destination even through the frantic motions, as one hand claims its spot on your breast, giving attention to the one that he wasn’t touching, while the other hand comes all the way down to find your clit, giving it a few gentle rubs that fall in the same rhythm of his thrusts.

Almost immediately, sparks light up beneath your eyelids, and your orgasm builds. It grows more and more until you start falling straight into it, though not before he snaps his final command, “That’s it, baby. Just like that. Cum for me.”

His words, his commanding voice, the deep gaze he is giving you through the mirror, the hard thrusts of his cock, and the press of your fingers on your throbbing clit—all of them come together to throw you over towards your climax. You cry out as the intense wave of your orgasm engulfs you, and it pushes him right over his own release. His eyes never leave yours as he tenses, his cock twitching inside you before you feel the warmth of his cum filling you up, almost sending you off to another climax.

Once the waves of pleasure begin to simmer down, your body slowly turns languid, almost pliant, barely hanging on with only your shaking leg and Jungkook’s arm holding you up. Your pussy throbs once, twice, almost rhythmically to the twitches that come from his softening cock, and Jungkook tightens his hold around you for a bit longer until everything winds down altogether.

It takes a while before you can start feeling things—anything other than the remaining spasms of your orgasm and the heat of his skin against yours—to be able to feel the warm, soft kisses that Jungkook is pressing on your neck and shoulder. The kisses help soothe you down from your high, coaxing you to relax in his arms, while he slowly lowers your leg and pulls out of you.

The move draws a gasp from your lips, when in the absence of his cock, your walls seem to contract against the void, and the liquid mixture of his cum and your essence drip down to your thighs and the floor beneath you.

“Seems like we made quite a mess,” Jungkook murmurs as he takes you in his arms, merely seconds before you would sway and fall, and carries you to the bed. He lays you down gently and kisses your lips. It helps calm you down even more that you barely notice him taking your heels off and tossing them away. He seems hesitant when he draws back, and you almost pull him back to you when your body shivers, suddenly feeling cold without his warmth. But you stop yourself when he smiles and promises to you, “Stay here. I’ll be back to you soon.”

There is something in his words that weighs on you, and it leaves you in a haze as you watch him leave to the bathroom, returning with a wet towel that he uses to clean the mess coating your skin. His gaze softens as he dips the towel between your legs, across the inner side of your thighs, your overly sensitive pussy, before he cleans himself from his own mess. He rises from the bed and leans down to wipe the mess on the floor with the soiled towel, and for some reason, watching him do such a mundane thing captivates you.

You follow him with your gaze as Jungkook walks across the room in his naked glory. His bare ass and solid back steal your attention before he disappears in the bathroom once again. When you hear the sound of the running water from the washbasin, and the heat of passion cools down in his absence, your mind wanders.

Just like always, your thoughts would start circling through your head in the silence, with a dozen questions and wonderings filling your head as you start to look deeper into what has become of the two of you over the past year.

Admittedly, your relationship hadn’t been a conventional one since it first started. What started from a mutual arrangement that had existed without a full commitment, had then shifted into something else when both of your hearts started craving for more, and with courage, you both reached for it when the chance arrived.

Though things didn’t start as easily as it seemed, the one year you spent with him had allowed you to understand each other a bit more. You have known from the start just how bad the two of you are when it comes to expressing your feelings, but everything else had only started to come to the surface once you decided one morning that you weren’t going to leave the way you used to after spending the night with him.

At one point during the entire period of trying to see if things would work out between the two of you, you managed to find out just how terrible the two of you are when it comes to going on dates like regular couples do. Going out on dinners and then the movies hadn’t been so tasking back in the day, and you remember having fun on those kinds of dates before Jungkook came into the picture. Except that any innocent night that Jungkook had always planned out for the two of you had always turned cumbersome and—well, dry.

If it hadn’t been for the way those nights quickly escalated into something else—something more fun—perhaps you would have taken it as a sign that things were not working well between the two of you. Because everything else has been going well. The desire you have for each other has always been a dominant part in this situationship that has been going on between you, as it has always been stronger when you are together, enough to supersede any words that would be needed to express your yearning for one another when you could act on it.

It should have been enough for you to stop questioning what you have between you, or to have doubts that this will last. That you wouldn’t wake up one day to find him changing his mind and suddenly kicking you out the door. But that doubt still takes root within you, leading you to always anticipate the moment the rug would finally be pulled under your feet and you are forced to face reality where the two of you no longer exist together.

Because just like the mirror which had just become the silent witness of your wanton exchange of pleasure, what you currently have with him now seems so fragile. As if there is a chance that everything will slip right out of your hands once you are too complacent.

The bed dips, taking you away from your thoughts to see Jungkook climbing onto the bed right as he returns to you. He is hovering above you in no time, almost covering your body with the length of his. His warmth becomes a comforting blanket, even when his presence is driving your heartbeat to start racing.

You look at his face, and your breath stills. His immaculate hair has become a mess after fucking you to oblivion. He has been growing it quite a bit to a length, and that hair has fallen to frame his perfect face while he slowly moves to cover your body with his.

His hands sink into the sheets as he lowers himself, his mouth meeting yours in a kiss that is soft and gentle that allows you to feel everything else that he is giving you. As if he is pouring his soul into the kiss, the same way he poured his desire into the intense lovemaking that has made your legs feel like jellos. The flapping wings in your chest linger as he pulls away from the kiss, though it is now mixed with anxiety when your mind still refuses to shut up with all the lingering doubts and the ceaseless questions.

“I can hear you thinking inside that pretty head of yours,” he murmurs against your lips, surprising you when he could easily guess what has been running through your head.

“That would be impossible, unless you can read my thoughts,” you reply to him once his lips rise from yours. You force a smile, but it falls short once you get to look up into his eyes. All of a sudden, you feel exposed under his gaze. Not only because of your complete bareness, but because he makes you feel as if he can look deeply into your soul. As if he is unraveling your secrets, layer by layer, until there is nothing left to hide the content of your heart.

The same way he made you feel a year ago when he called you after you ended everything and walked away.

“Even if I can’t hear it,” he starts, as he reaches up to brush a stray strand of hair that has gotten stuck on your cheek. “I can feel it coming out of you in waves. You’re practically trembling.”

A soft chuckle slips out of your lips. “Is that so?” Your question almost fades at the tip of your tongue when he takes the strand of hair and kisses it softly. He steals the rest of the words you are about to say when he tucks your hair back and grazes your lips with his thumb.

A worried look flickers through his gaze. Though it fades just as quickly it appears, and a small smile comes in its place while he is looking at you closely. His smile looks gentle and soft, tricking you into believing for a brief moment that he has nothing but sweet and innocent intention with his concern, until he suddenly questions you, “Was it not enough?”

“What—”

His question makes your heartbeat jump in your chest, and you find yourself wondering. What does he mean? What is he talking about? Is he asking if making you delirious by fucking you in the most outrageous way possible hadn’t been enough to satiate your need? Your lips tilt to a smile and you almost laugh at the thought of this, only to stop when you suddenly wonder if he truly had been reading your thoughts.

He couldn’t have possibly—

“Should I give you something else to shut that mind off and forget whatever it is that’s been troubling you?” he suddenly says, and your jaw almost drops open. As if he is seeing right through you, his words hit the mark perfectly.

With a knowing smile, as if he had gotten the answer he needed through your silence, Jungkook leans down and kisses the nape of your neck. He captures your lips next, giving you no chance to say anything at all. His kiss is deep, gentle and slow, but his tongue easily slips in to take control.

Everything that has cooled down now begins to heat up again. The invisible flutters in your chest arise, while a different kind of flutter sends your hips rising to meet his. You moan into the kiss when your folds brush against his cock, its girth nestling heavily against your center that you feel it when it slowly recovers. With each twitch you feel coming from his cock, it begins to grow hard and stiff, and Jungkook makes you feel it happening as he starts rocking his hips, grinding the length of his cock against your slit until you feel your dampness returns and builds.

He rocks once more with a groan rumbling from his chest, brushing the tip of his cock against your clit, and you give out a breathless cry when it sparks everything inside you alight.

“Answer me, baby,” Jungkook coaxes you, his voice nearly muffled by the sound of your pumping blood. “Tell me you want it. Let me silence your mind and take them all away.”

There is no need for you to question him, or for him to explain the implication of his words. You can see it when you look into his eyes, that what he wouldn’t be able to give you through his words, he would be giving them to you through his actions. Just like always.

“Yes,” you gasp out to him as you reach up, holding onto his shoulders as you look at him in the eyes to say, “Yes, I want it. Take me, please.”

Your answer draws a low groan coming out of him, and he continues stroking his cock between your legs a few more times before he pulls back. Using one hand, he aligns himself on your pussy, and within a blink of an eye, he sinks back into your slick, tight heat. Your body reacts with a jolt once he is buried deep in your pussy. Your walls contract around him violently for a brief moment, pressing around his length at the sudden penetration. Yet instead of causing you any discomfort, even when you are still sensitive from before, it just feels right. As if he truly belongs here, joined together with you.

Both of you tremble when the pleasure rises. Then Jungkook moves, going at it without taking his time or going slow and gentle. It feels mind-blowing the way he sparks the pleasure inside you. With the heels of your foot pressing onto his back, your hands begin to move everywhere. From clutching on his shoulders and biceps to hold on, up to his hair or cupping his cheeks, feeling the need to remain in contact with his body even while you are joined together.

Jungkook’s eyes have been fluttering close as he relishes in his own pleasure, but they snap open when he feels your nails sinking into his shoulders and your moan grows louder. He dips, drawing your lips into a kiss. The sounds of your moan and his deep groan are drowned as he sucks your tongue, while his pace remains steady, not once does he falter as he thrusts so deep you feel the entire bed rocking together with you.

He leaves your lips, kissing his way down your throat. When his hands move upward, cupping your rocking breasts, your head falls back. That is when you finally meet his gaze again, seeing the passion that is clearly shining through them as he gives attention to your breasts, palming at them and holding them up while your bodies rock together.

As he continues rocking his hips and thrusting into you, keeping it at a steady pace instead of rushing it, you realise his true intention. He isn’t simply fucking you to silence your mind. He is making love to you.

Your gazes are locked together when he lifts his head to look at you, and everything seems to fall into place with what you are reading through his dark eyes. You keep your eyes on him as you start returning his thrusts by rolling your hips against him. Each thrust feels enough to unravel you, while it slowly becomes his undoing.

His mouth returns to you, devouring you as you raise your hips, urging him to go deeper, harder, faster, because you are so close, already on the edge of unraveling completely into your climax. And he gives it to you, thrusting so deep inside you with hard strokes and increasing in speed while you hold on to him, your nails digging into his skin when your orgasm takes over. It comes barrelling down your spine as he takes you, slamming hard into your heat as pleasure erupts. You come with a sharp cry, and he roughly shouts when he joins you, falling into his own pleasure with a tremble rocking his whole body.

Your blood is still pumping wildly in your chest as the height of your climax slowly winds down. He is still twitching deep inside you as he presses his forehead on yours. Your chest rises and falls with your deep breaths, while his hands trigger the soft quivers in your body as he runs them down your torso to hold your waist.

Closing his eyes, Jungkook releases a deep, shuddering exhale of breath, while you feel heavy with sleep. Exhaustion rolls in once the remaining spasms of your release are fading. With the voices in your head silenced, drowned by the sound of your steady breathing and your racing heartbeat, all you want to do is to give in to slumber.

You try to open your eyes, but your eyelids are heavy. You can’t even move as he pulls out of you, once again taking away the fullness and dragging out the essence of your lovemaking that floods out, making a pool of mess on the sheets beneath you. Your muscles feel like liquid. Your bones are soft. You fall easily into his embrace when he pulls you in his arms once he falls right beside you on the bed.

And you simply let him.

You let him because you need to be in his warmth, to feel the touch of his fingers that are soothing, helping you relax beyond the rush flowing in your blood. You keep your eyes closed, allowing yourself to be engulfed in his comforting embrace. Because not only did he manage to silence your thoughts, he has also helped replace the uneasiness with relief.

The feeling of relief which only strengthens itself when he kisses the top of your head and whispers, “Sleep. I’ll hold you and keep you warm so you can have a sweet dream.” His words bring back the flutter in your chest, then dampness fills your eyelids when he adds with a whisper, “I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.”

And just like that, you have gotten what you were hoping for. Because those words are enough.

He might not be able to say it out loud, but you realise now—as you lean into his embrace, welcoming the warmth that he is giving you while your body hums in contentment—that you may no longer need to hear it. Because you can feel it. You feel it through his touch, through the way your bodies seem to fold and melt into one as he presses you to his chest, and you can hear it through his promise.

When you open your eyes again to meet his gaze, you finally allow the walls inside you to crumble. You may have already fallen for him from the beginning, but only now do you finally have the courage to let yourself fall deeper instead of fighting it.

Even if the landing will be hard, and most possibly be painful, you are willing to take the chance anyway. You realise that you would endure anything for him. Because he is worth all the risk. Judging from the way he is looking at you now, with a gaze so deep that you almost feel like you are drowning in him, and the way he is holding you as if he wants to protect you from the world, he shows you that he thinks that you are worth the risk for him to take.

Thank you for reading!!!

#jungkook smut #k-vanity #bangtansorciere #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader

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rafescurtainbangz · 3 months

Note

You and maybank in the shower after surfing. yn not oc. I know you dont do oc. thankk you love your jj/rafe ex post

Here is a little blurb from a one shot of mine. Thank you for your ask. Probably going to write another shower one shot with JJ soon because the thought of it is so 🫠🤭😩

Thank you for your ask!!

JJ x Girlfriend Female!Reader

Shower sex, unprotected p in v, oral (male receiving), shower head stuff, squirting, pet names, mutual teasing, softdom!jj, overstimulation

Y/N's POV:

"Were you thinking about doin' this," He taunts. "Were you dreamin' about me all wet and sexy like?" JJ whispers, fighting back a laugh, but he's not wrong.

"'Course I was," you whisper, tugging his hair as you kiss him deeply.

"My girl." His tongue slips between your pout, rolling slowly as you moan softly into your kiss.

He turns the handle, water spilling from the head, still cold, leaving you the perfect amount of time to play. Your lips meet his neck, a soft kiss, feeling his heartbeat under your lips. You palm his cock; rolling your fingers gently over the fabric. He moans deeply, vibrating against your lips.

You work a little lower, JJ, setting you down as you kiss and trace his toned chest and abs, working to your knees. Your fingers run softly against the indentations of his v-lines, making his muscles flex. You smile up at him sinfully, catching your fingers under the band of his shorts; pulling them to his feet. You watch as his aching cock springs free.

JJ meets your eyes; his guide shifting as you start to touch your tits as well.

"Fuck, Y/N," JJ groans.

You take your hands, running them gently against your breasts, circling your nipples with your fingers as he eyes your every move. Steam gathers above as the shower gets warmer; JJ's features are a little hazier than before. You return your focus below, running your nails up his thighs.

"Fuck you're huge, Jayj," you praise as you take him in your hands.

"Yeah?" He groans, watching you near his tip; a pearl of precum gathers on his head, rolling slowly down the length of his cock.

"Mmm... Mhmm." You hum, cleaning him up with your tongue; JJ closes his eyes, tilting his head back to the ceiling.

You continue to toy with him, little licks and flicks. JJ cradles your head in his hands as you swirl slowly. "Oh my god, Y/N," he grunts.

JJ's eyes open, watching as you kiss him sloppily, teasing him with the thought of your lips wrapped around him, the warmth of your mouth swathing him.

"Shit," he whines, sexual frustration painted all over his beautiful face. You smile wickedly, lips parting slightly; his mouth mimics yours, watching in anticipation as you squeeze the tip of his dick. "Those fuckin' lips, Y/N. Please."

"Please, what?" You taunt. "You were being a dick to me... Why should I suck yours?"

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he soughs, pitching his hips forward. You snake your tongue around his head, working in slow, circular movements as you play with his balls. JJ's eyes shut tight when you alternate directions. "C'mon, baby. Give me what I want," he drawls. You open your mouth wider; JJ chuckles lustfully as you comply with his request. You take him into your maw. "Fuck," he moans, drawing out the word with a deep breath. You bob back and forth, gagging on his cock each time. He takes your head in his hands as you increase your speed.

JJ starts to quaver on your tongue, mumbling words of praise as you add your hands. He tugs your hair causing you to moan, JJ, answering with the same.

He seizes control, stroking slower, taking a different grip entirely, his strong hands holding your cheeks. The head of his cock kisses the back of your throat, spit seeping from the corners of your lips.

"I'm sorry I teased you, darlin'... I just couldn't help myself," he sneers, not an ounce of remorse in his voice. He lets out a deep chuckle. "So fuckin' good at suckin' cock, Y/N. Jesus Christ." He thrusts deeply a few more times before giving you back the reins. You draw off him fully; a gasp for air releases from your open lips. You spit on his cock, stroking him with your hand, letting your breasts bounce with each movement.

"Do you want my mouth, JJ?"

"Yes, baby."

"Beg."

He shakes his head and smiles wickedly."Yeah, angel? You want me to beg?"

"Mhmm..."

"Please, Y/N. Can I please have your mouth?"

You raise an eyebrow, waiting for more.

"Fuck, Y/N... I need that pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock... I'm beggin' ya... Please, baby." You wrap your lips around his tip, creating a suction that makes him groan. Your hands wrap around, gripping his ass, as you start to stroke. Lewd noises fill the bathroom; JJ, panting and moaning; you, slurping and squelching with each bob.

He hisses out a breath as you drag your nails along his skin. Tears run down your cheeks, eyes locked on his, watching as he starts to near his peak.

"So good, baby... I'm gonna - Fuck."

You run him even quicker, sucking a little harder as his brows knit tight. His blue eyes soften on yours, fighting to keep them open. You feel him quake on your tongue. Releasing him from your lips, you pump fast, arm wrapped around your ribs, pressing your breasts together. Your mouth opens wide, tongue flat

"Holy shit," he grunts, inhaling sharply, surrendering to his finish, warm, white ropes landing on your tongue and chest. You bind your fingers a little tighter, milking out his last bits of pleasure, skimming your tongue along JJ's tip, cleaning up the rest, making his hooded eyes roll back.

JJ takes a clasp on your wrists, pulling you up and into his arms. You wrap your legs around his trim waist, melting into him as he breathes laboriously, coming down from his high."God damn, baby. You're so fuckin' good at that," he mumbles, breathlessly against your lips. "Do you know how good you make me feel?"

You smile against your kiss, sucking off his plump bottom lip slowly, taking it between your teeth. "You make me feel so fucking good, Jayj," you respire between kisses as he steps into the large walk-in shower.

The water is warm; remnants of his release rise off your body, swirling down the drain. Steam and heat hang heavy in the air, making it almost impossible to see. You hook your ankles, driving your body closer as he presses your back into the cool tile wall. He shuts the glass door—JJ's large handprint streaks across the gathered vapor.

"That feel good, baby? Not too hot?"

"No. It's perfect," you whisper.

"Beautiful."

JJ reaches for the shower head, taking it off the base; turning it to a steady stream. He kicks your foot out gently. A smile spreads on his kiss-swollen lips as he sees you start to put the pieces together.

"Jayj?" You giggle breathlessly.

"You ever done this before?" He questions, gripping the detachable shower head in one hand, the other pinned just over your shoulder as he looks down at you.

"I mean maybe," you smile.

"No one's ever done it for you?" He groans, letting the warm water spray against your thigh, working higher and higher.

You bite your lip and shake your head 'no.' Your focus shifts, drifting lower, watching as he brings the stream of water to your pussy, hitting your clit, making your knees buckle. You let out a moan, echoing through the bathroom.

"Y/N... Fuck, baby. Too much?"

"No. It's good, Jayj. So good," you sigh. "Don't stop."

JJ moves his arm from the wall to your waist, drawing you closer, rocking slowly, increasing and decreasing the intensity, making you throw your head back in pleasure. JJ's lips quickly lock onto your skin, kissing you harshly before biting down, making you squeal.

He watches your body carefully, your face changing with each passing second as you drift closer and closer to your breaking point. You feel your pleasure building fast, the pressure of the water stronger than any toy you've used in a while."You like that. Huh?" He grunts. You nod your head rapidly. JJ leans down, taking your nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking, causing you to arch your back.

"JJ... Oh my god," you hail as your vision starts to cloud, stars in your eyes.

"I can't wait to fuck you baby. This is just a warm-up, sweet-"

"JJ!" You cut him off, crying out in pleasure as you wrap your arms tighter, nails digging into his shoulder blades. He lets out a devilish laugh, forcing the stream a little closer. "Jay-JJ," you stutter.

"What, princess?" Your body jolts as you fight him slightly in overstimulation, continuing to ride the waves of your orgasm; pussy clenching tight. "Does it feel good, baby?"

"Yes. Fuck!"

"Then just take it," he rasps in your ear, sending chills down your spine.

You feel your body relax, heart pounding in your chest as you reach for air.

JJ returns the water head to the base, cranking up the heat, pressing you into the wall once more as you continue to kiss, your ears ringing slightly, feeling the after-effects of your bliss.

"Fuck me?" You whimper, desperation laced in your tone. "Please."

"Anywhere, baby? Where do you want it?"

"Bed; start here."

"The bed? You sure? I'd hate to upset the Williams." JJ reaches down, taking a grip on your thigh, looping it in his bicep, muscles flexing as he lifts you slightly.

"Just fuck me." You tilt your forehead against his, the two of you watching as his long cock nears your warmth. "Shit," you whine as he circles your sensitive clit with his velvety head, making him smirk. JJ moves a little lower, gliding through your folds; teasing your entrance with his tip.

"JJ. Please."

"Please what?" He teases you again.

"Fuck me."

"Baby..." He lets out a gravelly laugh. "Beg harder." JJ swipes his head across your bud again, making you gasp.

"JJ, can you please fuck me? Ple-" He thrusts his cock into you, rutting up, breasts pressing against his chest as he steals your breath. JJ grabs your ass and picks you up swiftly, causing you to sink deeper on his cock, making you mewl onto his lips.

"Y/N," he moans.

"Yeah," you stammer.

"I fucking love you."

"I fucking love you, JJ."

He pins you to the wall, leaning in, rutting quickly. His strokes are merciless; incredibly deep as you cling to his shoulders again. The hot water cascades down your body; increasing your pleasure as it flows between the two of you, the stimulation alone making you feel like you could climax.

"Ready?"

"Yeah," you mumble against his lips.

JJ draws open the door, his cock still buried deep as he brings you to the bedroom. He's sauntering, a slow stroll as you kiss at the perfect cadence. He sits down on the large mattress, letting you straddle his lap.

JJ adjusts slightly, his cock, reaching a different angle, making you suck in some air. You lift your body, rising up fully before spreading your thighs wide again. JJ grips your ass in his hands, following you as you move. "F-Fuck," you whine, bottom lip quivering as you feel him stretch you out.

JJ looks down, watching where your bodies connect. A low moan releases from the back of his throat. "You're so fuckin wet, Y/N. Holy shit." You hook your hand behind his neck, leaning back slightly, changing the angle for a better view. Watching JJ's thick cock glisten with essence.

Throwing your head back, you hit the perfect spot, feeling every curve and ridge as you push yourself further. JJ's thumb presses against your throbbing clit, rubbing circles on top, causing your thighs to shake. "Takin' me so well, baby girl," he drawls. "So fucking tight."

"JJ..." You sigh, feeling yourself about to cum again, head pounding with your heart.

"Yeah? That's the spot. Huh?"

"Y-Yeah," you stutter, cock-drunk, thighs quivering uncontrollably, making you lose your rhythm.

"Let me, baby. Let me," he groans.

JJ fucks into you, striking the perfect angle, making your muscles tense up. "Shit... Right there, Jayj. You're gonna make me cum."

"Yeah? This pussy was made for me. Cum on my cock, Y/N..." Your orgasm rips through your body, pleasure hitting you harder than your first release. Toes curling as you're sent into elation. You lock down around him, JJ taking his cue, pounding into you at an even quicker pace.

Before you can come down, he picks you up, throwing you on the mattress, thrusting into you suddenly. The sounds of his skin clapping against yours echoes through the large room. You let out a cry far louder than intended in a house that's not your own, even if it's empty. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand.

JJ quickly grabs your wrist, pulling it away from your mouth, shaking his head 'no' as he tacks it and the other against the plush mattress. "Never do that again," he pants through a smile, punctuating each word with a thrust.

"Closer," you beg. JJ leans in, pressing you against the bed, knees wide, striking deep inside, making your eyes slam shut. He loosens the grip on your wrist, fingers weaving into yours. Your mouth falls open, a mixture of pleasure and pain.

"Look at me, baby."

You do, seeing every muscle at work, water still glistening on his tan skin, his blonde fringe wet and messy.

"JJ..."

"Me too, Y/N. Fuck. Me too," he moans. He drops a hand, pressing two fingers between your lips; you suck them roughly as you fight to keep your eyes open. JJ slips his hand low, his skilled fingers brushing fast.

"Yes, daddy! Just - Just like that. Fuck. JJ," you murmur. "Oh shit-" Your orgasm spills over, soaking his cock; wetting the sheets below. The sound of his strokes intensifies as he works you through your climax, stimulating your clit, brushing through spurts as he makes a mess of your thighs and his. "That's it... Good fuckin' girl."

His hips snap into you one last time, filling you with his warmth, toppling down on top of you. You can feel everything at this moment, his release and your own, the two of you glazed with sweat, soaked from the shower. You focus on the sound of his heartbeat, complementing your own, the way your body fits in his, JJ's weight on top of yours.

"That was amazing," he praises, kissing you sweetly.

"So good... So fucking good."

#JJ maybank #jj maybank smut one shot #jj maybank smut #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj x y/n #jj x reader #rudy pankow smut

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coffbeanie · 6 months

Text

Finally out here w a new post!! Decided to draw Brian for this AU i made a while ago-never posted about it before but i thought it would be fun to bring it back again. (since he kinda zombiefied this can be like a belated halloween post)

This is a Proxy AU i made involving Tim and Brian (from MH), Kate and Charlie (from Slender the Arrival) and Kimberly (my OC), and its also connected to my Creepypasta AU (its on my insta kinda but i never posted anything about it really here oops)

I’m gonna put some ideas I had for Brian’s character but before i put them down i wanna say that I came up w this AU before issue 3.5 of the MH comic(and if we’re being technical this has been brewing in my brain before the comic was announced oops). I haven’t read any of the comics yet and i know its still going, so as for what happened to his character I’m not too sure and I’m trying to work around that. Also I’m trying to figure out the timeline for this AU, and that includes when all this happens in relation to the end of MH, so his design is probably going to change once I determine how decayed this boy is actually supposed to be. Even so this is all just in good fun :)

-Brian is the 4th proxy to join in, after Tim, Kate, and Charlie

-While this is still Brian’s body, he lacks all of Brian’s memories, since his consciousness is in the ark. When he first comes back he doesn’t remember who he is, who Tim is, or what happened during the events of Marble Hornets.

-That being said, some memories can be triggered through muscle memory. Basically there are times where if he moves a certain way or if someone touches him a certain way, there’s a chance that he’ll suddenly remember something.

-His presence most unnerves Tim, but Brian doesn’t know how to help with this as Tim won’t tell him anything about MH or what their relationship was like before his death. This causes Kate and Charlie to be weary of him. Because of this, Brian is forced to hang out with Kimberly the most, as they’re the most “outcasted” of their little group.

-He doesn’t really feel pain, but the big bruise on his back still hurts sometimes.

-He comes back real skinny and dirty, but they clean him up and buff him back up again don’t worry :))

#my art #brian thomas #marble hornets fanart #marble hornets #brian thomas fanart #mh brian #brian mh #marble hornets au

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canonkiller · 1 month

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Hi, I'm trying to do art commissions, but no one has commissioned me yet. Do you have any advice for attracting customers?

I wrote a lot of words for you in hopes that at least some of it will be helpful, so I'm putting the bulk of this answer below a read more to save people the scrolling. The quick and easy two tips that I find people forget to do the most are:

Is your art easy to find? Having a pinned post with a tag for your art, a link in your bio, or an art-focused / reblog-light blog (like this one!) make it so that people know you draw, and knowing you've been posting art for a while makes you less likely to be a scammer.

Is your commission info easy to find? People can't buy things that they don't know you're selling; clear and accessible links to your prices and terms are important.

Now for the real bulky meat of advice giving, where I say a lot of words that may or may not be relevant:

I have a lot of advice, but I do want to say before getting into it:

A lot of selling art (especially in a non-industry setting, like with social media commissions) is luck.

There is no one size fits all method for selling art, and it's best to go with what feels right to you (I'll go more into this later)

Tips for selling are not necessarily tips for creating, and there will be advice in here that I don't apply to myself. Determining what you do and do not implement is something you should decide for yourself and your work flow.

Your art not selling doesn't mean nobody cares about it.

Personally I think the idea of intentionally curating a single subject demographic of Customer and Consumer for your work is limiting and doomed to burnout in a non-industry space. I will also touch more on this later.

Now for the rest of it in varying orders:

✨ Attracting Customers

This one is going first because you mentioned it specifically. It is kind of vague though, by nature of the term, so what I advise doing is specifying.

When you are thinking of a customer, are you trying to appeal to:

People who will buy pre-made art products? (Pins, stickers, prints, etc)

People who will buy custom work? (Commissions for specific subject matter)

People who will buy art resources you've created? (Fonts, bases, texture packs, 3d models etc)

There's also frequency: a repeat customer of custom art will usually be appealed to more by a wide range of options (like illustrations), while you might get more single-purchase customers if you only offer a limited range of options (like only icons).

Demographics also, of course, play a substantial role in just custom art commissions; furries get lauded as high spenders, but they're also a huge community that is focused around OCs, so by statistics alone they will have more people with spending money and will be frequent customers of people drawing OCs. A narrower audience means fewer people, but often the spread of the people within that audience is the same - and at the end of the day, selling an art piece only requires one other person, it's just a matter of happening to find them.

The follow up question is of course the finding: the average artist in fandom spaces selling commissions does not have the platform or budget for an ad campaign. This, however, is also its own category:

✨ Posting Online

Right out the gate: anyone who has told you that just drawing x thing is the way to get easy money is wrong.

"If you draw more fan art, you'll -" wrong.

"Nobody cares about that, you should be drawing this instead -" wrong.

"if you need to sell fast, just sell porn -" wrong. And also re-evaluate your perceived lack of quality or value about the subject.

The things you will be able to create easily and consistently will be the things YOU, SPECIFICALLY, like to create. It is also entirely impossible that you are the only person on earth to have ever liked those things, which means that if you create them, there are people out there who will enjoy them.

It feels itchy to be like "and those people are Potential Customers", but it is true; your work will resonate with people. They will want you to create it. It is vitally important to your own well being that the things you create, that you want others to enjoy, are things you enjoy as well.

(This is also why the "just draw porn" joking advice that gets tossed around is particularly fucked up. You as the artist should not feel forced into drawing things you aren't comfortable with, and the vast majority of customers for explicit content also don't want the people making it to feel forced into doing so. It's basic consent. I have strong feelings about this.)

If you are creating things and putting them out into the world, they will find an audience. That audience may be one singular person! The number does not matter, because that's still a person who - again, sucks to frame ig this way - has the potential to buy things from you.

If you're constantly chasing a bigger follower count, more interactions, etc etc for the future, it can genuinely be pretty taxing on the people who want to support you in the present. When you enjoy someone's work, and want to support them, being told constantly that that support is not good enough is frustrating. Trying to follow your work should not lead to seeing more "likes are WORTHLESS and NOBODY reblogs my things" posts than it does art. You are a person making things to share with other people, and you have to remember it or you will burn yourself out into a desiccated husk.

TL:DR consistency is key and the easiest way to be consistent is to just draw whatever the fuck you live drawing in whatever ways you want to draw it, and then slap it on the internet somewhere and Keep Doing That

✨ The Actual Commission Information

this one is just factual really. A lot of artists have really shitty commission sheet layouts, because advertising graphic design and illustrative art are different skill sets. That's fine. You don't have to remake the wheel. A good commission sheet should include:

More images than text (if you can't see what the examples are when zoomed out, you have to rearrange or cut down on words)

Examples organized by price / type, and clearly labeled

Your personal favourites for examples - one really strong example piece is better than twenty tiny images of work you think is just "okay"

Contact information - having a method that works WITHOUT a social media account (email.) Is important and way easier to keep organized, imo

A SIMPLE list of strengths (the things you draw the best) and things you won't draw (common example: mechs). You do not need to list every fandom or subject matter. Limit yourself to a top five.

A clear and easy to type link for your terms of service. Carrd, and sites like it, is good for this. This will go into details about your process, what you will and won't do, permissions granted to the commissioner (like "no, you can't make an NFT with this"), your privacy policy (saying you won't sell commissioner details to third parties), and other stuff. You do not want to have all of this on your original post, because it should be thorough and you want your main post to be showcasing your work and not your legalese. Here's mine as a reference; if you have trouble writing your own, feel free to copy from it and make the necessary alterations for your work.

✨ There Was More I Was Going To Write But I Forgot

I have a different document of commission related talk here, which is also incomplete but in a different way. It's in my nature. Hopefully some combination of this and that can be useful to you. Sorry if they're not. I love you have a nice day

#not art #ask #ne0nwisp #i feel like this is a profoundly unhelpful word count but I Tried.

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alcoris-shiz · 2 months

Text

Touch Me (Part 1) Alastor X Reader!

A/N: I’ve known a few people (demi such as myself and myself included) who don’t like being touched (also probably my autism but we'll skip that part), but especially that little special bond you get when you find the right partner and you're much more comfortable with touches than before.

The drawing below is mine, I didn't want to keep you lovely readers waiting for today's post so I decided to just post the sketch. This an oc of mine, they're part fox if you're wondering <3

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Chapter 1: Touch Me (Part 1)

Description: Alastor notices you start touching the other guests more, though you don’t like touch, he’s hurt when you don’t touch him however, and feels left out.

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Alastor tapped his fingers on the desk slowly, you had been working for him for a month by now. Seemingly out of nowhere, you have caught his eye, he needed to figure you out. He was drawn to you. You were his every waking thought.

From humoring him with coffee in the morning and evening chats at dinner, something he never thought he would participate in, was now the highlight of his afterlife. No, Alastor wasn’t sure what had gotten into him and that’s why he had to study you.

Not to mention you had so much in common, the lack of physical touch that either of you could handle, to always keeping a smile on your face. You were the highlighter in a box of pencils, something that lit up his life. A beauty that he deemed would be his work with.

You were barely his assistant, unlike the aquaintances at the hotel, he refused to call them more. He did, however, want more from you.

Though something seemed off about you and that has led to him sitting in his tower, slowly tapping his fingers on the desk in front of him. You had never liked being touched, you were picky when it came to touch of any sorts, hating different textures and your sensitivity to sound, you had preferred the quiet hum of his radio. Recently however, he has seen everyone be more handsy with you.

Just earlier today, he seen Angel Dust hugging you, Charlie and you dancing (that one made his blood especially boil, how had he not danced with you yet and here’s Charlie and you!), Vaggie had of course been practicing dancing with you too (also to his annoyance…), even Husk had been holding your hands over the bar! (He was sure to skin that cat later on).

He would figure this out!

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Making his way downstairs he saw you writing in some notebook, clearly focused while Nifty sat atop your head and Angel to the right of you. “Why hello there Dear! Are you in any need of assistance?” Alastor asked happily slipping to the left of you and slipping an arm around your waist. You jumped and looked at him, confusion on your face and the blush that blanketed it. You quickly scooted away before standing up, lifting Nifty off your head and setting her on the table. “Oh uh… hey Alastor! I was just working on a script for my- ya know it doesn’t matter. I don’t really need any help, but thank you!” you said quickly as his smile twitched.

He stood next to you and reached his hand down to grab your hand, he looked up at you with a look as if to ask if he could hold your hand. You had paused for a moment letting him hold your hand, both of you unknowingly loving the touch from each other. But to break the moment you coughed and backed away. “Really, I don’t want to be a bother Al. I’ll see you later,” you tried, smile not fading as you turned tail up the stairs to your room.

Alastor could feel himself fuming while Angel gave him a concerned look, Charlie joining as she wandered into the room. “Hey Smiles, why smoke coming from your ears? You really wanted to spend time with them?” he asked, confused smirk on his face. Alastor looked at him with static before it went back to the normal buzz. “They’ll touch you, but not me? Why?” Alastor said, pretty much growling.

“Uh… maybe because you’re a creepy ass radio demon?” Angel said nonchantly, while Charlie made a squeak sound. “You don’t like being touched.” Alastor’s head shot towards Charlie’s direction. “What was that?” Charlie gave a soft smile at Alastor. “They know you don’t like being touched, I may have told them, when they asked about you.”

“What did my little doe ask about me, may I ask?” Alastor said turning fully to face Charlie properly. “Just if you would be okay with touch, they uh wanted to hug you? Something about you looking upset and I had told them you didn’t like being touched, so I think they had just brought you something. That was last week!” Charlie responded quickly.

“My doe wanted to hug me and I didn’t even get a say in this? Why young one, just point them in my direction next time, would you?” Alastor hissed before turning to go to your room. “I’m pretty sure I’m older than you-” was all that was heard from Charlie before he made his way up the stairs.

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Alastor, with a swift knock on your door, waited for you to open the door before inviting himself in. “Oh hey Alastor, to what do I have to pleasure of entertaining you-” Soon his arms were wrapped around you and you paused feeling confused, arms straight down at your sides. “Don’t move, please. You wanted to hug? Here it is,” Alastor growled his nose buried in your hair as he pulled you tightly to himself.

“It’s really okay Alastor, I know you don’t like being tou-” you had tried to say while pulling away, before Alastor pulled you tight to him again. “Say you don’t want this if you don’t, I don’t want to push your boundaries my doe. But I do want this,” Alastor said, now absentmindedly rubbing the middle of your back with his thumb.

“I’m okay with this. Thanks for asking though and confirming you were okay with the hug.” you whispered finally reaching around his waist and returning the hug. Alastor sighed and nuzzled you. For once his mind was also quiet, a quiet radio humm signalling that as well.

“Why them? Why would you not ask me?” Alastor asked softly, pulling just far back enough to cup your face in his hand, absently you rubbed your cheek against his palm, making his smile soften at the sight of you being so comfortable and vulnerable. “I didn’t want you to laugh, I’m sorry.” Alastor chuckled and rubbed your cheek with his thumb now.

“How about we make a deal?” your eyes shot up giving Alastor a confused and scared look, but not moving your head. “You can touch me, whenever and wherever, no need to ask, just stop if I become… uncomfortable… and I can… court you persay?” Alastor said. He knew he wanted you to be his, if this was the way to go, he’d make it go.

You slowly nodded and smiled at him, “I would like that,” you responded softly. “Good,” Alastor said as he leaned down, you glanced at his lips, he was waiting for you to meet him, for the okay to kiss. ‘Oh what am I getting myself into…’

You crushed your lips together.

The room lit green and you blushed, contract coming together. “I didn’t know you even felt that way about me?” you whispered. You had obviously come to know your crush on him, but you weren’t too sure how to go about dating someone who was ace or what they were okay with. You knew they did date, but with Alastor, that type of life was so non existent that you questioned him also being aromantic.

“Well my darling doe, there’s a lot you’re gonna learn about me. It’s not often I feel comfortable with touch, it’s even less common for someone to make me feel like this.”

“So would that make us-” you started and he chuckled. “Yes you are my partner and I am yours,” he whispered and leaned down to once again let our lips touch softly.

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Word Count: 1,272 ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ~ Master List~ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

#hazbin hotel #fanfiction #reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #cute #fluff #part one

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scryarchives · 1 year

Text

𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 - 𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲

age-old traditions were to be continued for generations, but when it finally comes down to the toruk makto's son, he's not so willing to comply...

– pairings: neteyam x oc

– warning: fluff, canon divergent, cross-posted on wattpad

– author's note: this oneshot takes place after the events of avatar 2 because i refuse to believe that neteyam is gone.

translations:

– ma tìrol [my son] – zamunge fko [strong one]

Being given an arranged mate was something like a toss of a coin. It was sheer luck if you ended up loving the one you were destined to be with.

Despite the arrangements of suitors being highly disliked, Neytiri turned back to the tradition of her forefathers, a part of her following the custom in memory of the late Olo’eyktan, Eytukan. As much as he didn’t like it, Jake followed his wife’s wishes, knowing how much her culture and her father meant to her.

And so, with the consultation of the current tsahik, Neytiri and Mo’at had decided who her firstborn would be promised to, both looking at the candidates for the next tsahik. It was decided that the matched pair would be introduced when Neytiri’s son, Neteyam, the next in line for Olo’eyktan, was of age to be part of the People.

Unfortunately, the young man hated it. Neteyam hated the notion of not being able to experience falling in love, and he had hoped that he would be able to understand the look his parents shared when they looked at one another, and share it with someone who would be his equal.

Sure, he would try his best to get along with whoever was planned to be by his side as his mate. But for all he could know, they would’ve already been in love with someone else, and it was just another unlucky draw.

He dreaded the way his parents spoke of his arranged mate. His mother passed him a slightly pitiful look, and his father only gave his wife a guilty one, knowing what happened previously between her and her chosen mate.

So far, he had turned down nine of the women his mother and grandmother had introduced to him, and he had turned them all down. They just didn't click to him, especially after most of them had passed him thoughtless grins with wandering eyes.

His mother was at the end of her rope, praying to the Great Mother that this time, her son would consider her current option to be the next tsahik. Besides, all she wanted was for her son to be happy and loved, just as she was. And she was starting to lose hope.

“Nete,” Neytiri frowned, trying to convince her son. “If you’re lucky, she would love you, and you could grow to love her.”

“But mother, I want to be a mate to someone I’m already in love with!” The firstborn protested, his frown deepening at his mother’s suggestion.

“And are you already in love with someone?”

Neteyam looked away, knowing that he indeed hadn’t found that special someone. Yet. He grumbled with crossed arms, Neytiri sighing as she hugged her son’s head close to her.

“Ay… Ma tìrol…” Neytiri muttered as Neteyam hugged his mother slightly tighter. “Give her a chance. She could be the one, only Eywa knows.”

Neteyam closed his eyes slowly, knowing that he couldn’t argue with his mother anymore. He let out a slow breath as he pulled away, nodding slowly. Seeing this, Neytiri’s smile returned, and the mother placed her palm lovingly on her son’s cheek, the boy leaning into her touch.

“But if I feel like things won’t turn out right for us, I want to choose who I am mated with,” Neteyam spoke up again, looking his mother in the eye, determination set in his features.

Neytiri pursed her lips, her turn to nod slowly as the two came to an agreement. If he agreed to follow her terms, she would agree to follow his.

The day of the meeting had eventually crawled by, Neteyam inwardly groaning before keeping his mind open to the one he was supposed to meet.

He did his best to realise that whoever he was meant to meet was promised to him as he was to her, so they were both stuck in the same boat.

Neteyam watched the way his mother smiled, and from it he knew that she was confident that things would work out. He was partially ready to prove her wrong.

"Nete, remember to keep an open mind," Neytiri smiled, pushing her closer to the little healing hut where Mo'at usually worked.

"Mother, why are we at grandmother's healing hut?" Neteyam raised his browline in confusion.

"She works under the tsahik to learn to heal. Her name is Näytle te Ìviu Oa'ite. Find out more about her, maybe you could both share common interests," Neytiri grinned, nudging her son closer.

But just as Neteyam was within the radius of the hut, Neytiri grabbed her firstborn son's shoulder, whispering in his ear as the young man listened to her every word.

"Her mother has decided that the two of you shall meet each other first. She does not know that you will be arriving to meet her," Neytiri nodded. "I will not be following you in, but I can only trust you to make a good impression."

"Mother!" Neteyam frowned back as he glanced at Neytiri in annoyance at her meddling.

"Ma tìrol, she's keeping an open mind you must do the same," Neytiri gently kissed her son's cheek before pushing him towards the hut.

"Now go!"

Neteyam muttered curses under his breath, walking towards the hut with his browline furrowed.

Neytiri watched from afar as her son stormed off, placing her hand gently on her chest as she glanced up at the sky.

"May Eywa guide them towards a path of happiness."

“Hello?” Neteyam called out to the fairly empty hut.

He walked around, trying to find the woman he was meant to meet. He peered around the pillars of the hut as he decided to try calling her out by her name, walking deeper into the wooden-built structure.

“Näytle?”

He called the woman's name out as he passed by other Omaticayan healers who simply pointed him in the direction of where the mentioned healer would be.

From within a far corner of the shelter, Mo’at’s ears perked up at her student’s name, recognising her grandson’s voice. A small grin grew on her face as the tsahik gently tapped her protégés back.

“Näytle,” She turned to the young woman who was tending to a small Omaticayan boy’s minor wounds.

“Yes, tsahik?” The doe-eyed Na'vi woman turned to face her with a small smile.

Her eyes were filled with eagerness to learn from her mentor, her soft smile showing glimpses of kindness and hospitality that was very much needed in the medicinal part of the Omaticaya.

"My child," Mo'at placed her hand on the young woman's shoulder tenderly. "I am going to go gather with Olo'eyktan Sully and his wife. I need you and the other healers to make sure that whoever needs healing gets it as soon as possible."

"Of course," Näytle nodded eagerly. "I'm glad you have entrusted me with this, tsahik."

The younger female turned her attention back to the child before her, wiping her hands free of the healing salve before wrapping his wounds up with some long leaves.

"Of course, my child," Mo'at smiled before stepping towards the back exit. "Oh, and I think you should be expecting a visit from someone."

"Who should I be expecting?" Näytle asked the older woman, but as she turned around, the tsahik was gone.

Näytle frowned in confusion as she gently turned to the young boy in front of her, patting his head as she softly spoke to him. She saw the way the boy grew a frown at the sight of his tended wound.

"Don't worry, zamunge fko," Näytle ruffled the boy's hair. "The pain will pass with time, as all things do."

She turned around, kneeling while holding a small piece of traditional candy, or something similar to it, the boy's frown disappearing.

"For your bravery."

The boy took the sweet, running off as the healer smiled warmly at child's burst of energy, unaware of the figure that watched her actions from afar.

"Näytle?"

The girl turned around, now face to face with a taller Na'vi. He appeared to be her height. She was surprised, especially when she couldn't hear the person's footsteps. Perhaps he was a hunter in aid of wounds he gained from the hunting group earlier.

"Yes, that would be me," The healer responded, standing up from her kneeled position.

Näytle watched the young man in front of her, taking in his appearance as she glanced him up and down for any wounds that needed tending.

He was attractive, she wouldn't deny that. The energy and wonder in his eyes about the world around him wasn't easy to miss. They hid in specks of ocre and gold that flickered brightly in the light of the hut.

His stature was built, one of a proud warrior. His beaded hair moved with the slightest movement of his head, little clinking noises of the beads knocking against one another caught her attention as she thought the braids framed his face perfectly.

If she could say, she would tell him that he looked as though Eywa herself handcrafted him to fit her image of perfection.

"Oel ngati kameie."

I see you.

Näytle nodded respectfully, repeating his action, without realising how his heart jumped in his throat when he said the phrase.

He couldn't tell if it was the way she interacted with the child, the way that she was filled with so much love and kindness for the life around her, but there was something special about her. Something just beautiful. Something that the other women lacked when he met them.

Her physical beauty in his eyes just emphasised that something special. He didn't know what it was, but there was something about her eyes that just made him want to discover more about her.

"Do I know you?" The woman before him, Näytle, spoke.

Her gentle voice bounced around in his head, and he treasured the way it sounded for a few minutes longer.

"Neteyam," He placed his hand on his chest. "My name's Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan."

He watched the way her eyes widened in realisation, embarrassment flooding through her cheeks as they flushed.

He adored the way she looked so cute and flustered.

"My apologies!" She nervously tucked a strand of braided hair behind her ear. "I hadn't realised that you were coming to visit!"

The guilt of not recognising the Toruk Makto's son had lingered in her stomach, but it vanished when she heard him chuckle.

"No, it's alright! You have never seen me before?" Neteyam tilted his head slightly, amusement filling him.

"Ah, unfortunately not. From where I stand in the crowd, it's always too far to get a good look."

The young woman picked up the bowl of salve, walking towards a nearby table to keep the balm away. Her tail flicked mischievously as she formed her next words jokingly

"I have heard stories that he is undeniably handsome, though."

"Have you now?" Neteyam perked up, a small grin unknowingly growing on his face.

"Yes," The woman smiled, taking some leaves from nearby and taking them towards another table where a Na'vi equivalent of motar and pestle lay.

"What else might you have heard?"

Neteyam prodded on, leaning on the counter next to the female Na'vi.

"I heard that he was a skilled hunter, a hunter that was much sought after by other women."

"Well, that's a pity," Neteyam shrugged. "They would have to do without me."

"And why would they have to?" Näytle gave him a questioning glance, tilting her head towards him slightly, as the circular motion of her hands slowed.

Neteyam's eyes glanced down at the wooden counter beneath his hands, feeling suddenly nervous.

Because perhaps, he was falling in love.

"Because I have been matched. And I wouldn't mind getting to know the woman I have been matched with."

Näytle smiled softly, her smile growing. She placed the pestle on the table.

The young woman held her hand out to the young hunter before her.

"Let's get to know each other then. It was nice to meet you, Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan."

"Please," The Olo'eyktan's son took her softer, smaller hand into his, holding it gently.

"Neteyam is just fine."

He bent down, gently kissing the back of her hand, something he had seen his father do as a sign of affection towards his mother.

He saw the way her cheeks flushed, his smile growing wider at her suddenly shy state.

"And it's a pleasure to meet you too, Näytle."

His mother had proved him wrong, and for once, he didn't mind. Maybe this time, being arranged together didn't sound too bad.

theme inspired by @aokoaoi !

gif by @world-of-pandora

taglist: @mooncleaver @moonie-writings @peacelovepandora @neteyams-tsahik

— dm me if you want to be apart of my taglist!

#neteyam #avatar #cross posted on wattpad #avatar the way of water #atwow #avatar neteyam #neteyam x oc #neteyam x reader #avatar jake #avatar neytiri #avatar lo'ak #avatar kiri #avatar tuk #avatar oc #writing #fluff #neteyam sully x oc #neteyam sully #sam writes !

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reimenaashelyee · 4 months

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Clean version here

Not a bingo but a jenga. My responses below the cut

Somehow I have half of this image filled out. I wish I could cash it in for points to redeem.

Jenga:

First comic is a magnum opus: There had been a string of graphic novel adaptations of books I wanted do when I as a young teenager, but The World in Deeper Inspection was my first, substantial, original behemoth of an idea. It was the only one with the power and the potential to stay and push me to become a comics creator. Everything I am and have as an artist and writer is because of TWIDI.

Fan art more popular than OCs: This was going to be inevitable because I hardly ever post about them online. But I suppose if you count my one-off character design illustrations that go viral or my published graphic novels, this box wouldn’t be true… (The God of Arepo is my most popular fan work)

I binged your life’s work in 2 hours: I am glad you like my work enough to be this engrossed in it – but honestly please please reread it again and SLOWLY so you can appreciate the visual storytelling – not just the words and the main action!! You’ll have a fuller experience if you take the time to luxuriate!!

This isn’t even my day job: It both is and isn’t. I do enough from comics that I can survive out of it near full time (thanks to my usual speed; very grateful), but I get financial stability from the monthly paycheck from the actual day job. Relying on my speed to produce near-constant output for money is something I am losing interest in as my ideas become more ambitious and niche.

Subscribe to my Patreon: Somehow I am able to hawk my free-to-read platforms with a certain amount of success but never can get a big dent on my Ko-fi.

Received unsolicited critique on a free comic: Unavoidable reality. Though I hadn’t had something egregious in a long time (and it better stay that way).

Had to explain what a webcomic even is to someone IRL: Nearly all the people I surround myself with are ‘normies’ (people who aren’t so online and/or don’t read online media), so this comes up often – and it will become more frequent as I pursue institutional pathways like residencies and grants. Even if they knew what webcomics were, it would be under the name of webtoons.

I can’t wait to draw this scene in 4 years: lol @ Alexander Comic and TWIDI

Multi-year hiatus: TWIDI’s eternal curse, until I figure out how to build enough stability in my career/life to return to it – full-time and for real.

Financially supported by someone else: My dayjob, mainly, but previously my parents.

Is somehow mutuals with favourite artist: That’s what it’s like as your career progresses and matures! It’s always nice to become peers with those you admire – especially the ones you grow to love only after knowing them.

Characters get gayer over time: Growing up and being able to witness the various ways of living can and will change how one approaches their characters.

Successfully fulfilled a Kickstarter: Not on my own, but I had a few for my books that published smoothly.

Empty space:

ADHD diagnosis: I have ADHD-esque behaviours that I have managed to overcome with ADHD-specific hacks, but whether I actually have the thing itself is a question mark. I lean towards not really having it since I am able to execute and complete tasks regularly.

Works in animation or went to school for it: I used to want to study and work in animation before I discovered the potential of comics as a storytelling medium. I don’t have a desire to break into that industry, even without all the employment and late-capitalism instability that it’s going through right now. I am not averse to trying if asked, however.

Had an art teacher who hated anime: Never went to art school.

Yes I’ve had burnout but what about second burnout: Currently going through a fallow period, but I really don’t think it’s Burnout Burnout. Touch wood, I continue to maintain my love, interest and desire to make comics and stay in my artistic career.

Forgot how to draw main character’s face: Characters are so seared into my brain, it’s not easy to forget. Helps that they each have particular quirks that belong to their design.

This comic gave me my hand/wrist injury: Still out here WITHOUT any of those. I hope I can keep it that way until whenever I retire.

Emergency commissions: Hopefully I will never have to resort to do this. (Very grateful, yes)

Sleep… “schedule”? my 7-8 hours of sleep is essential and non-negotiable.

If it’s not 3 hours long is it even worth adding to the work playlist: This is is referring to video essays I guess? I rarely ever encounter essays of over 3 hours that I am interested enough to watch. (Also I can’t really watch something while drawing; I lose speed/concentration)

Embarrassed to look at early pages: Not embarrassed – I was younger and less-skilled then, that’s just how it is. There were a lot of things younger me did that I could still learn from.

Regrets costume choices: I pride myself in being able to style myself and my characters, and so far I have never regretted the clothes I give my characters – the TWIDI characters all have base outfits from when I was 15!

#artist meme

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xalygatorx · 3 months

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Unbound | Chapter 14, "In Waters Deep"

Áine Ts'sambra—a wayward half-drow bard with a painful past—has her world upended when she's snatched up by a Nautiloid ship and furnished with a tadpole to the brain. In her journey to remove the infestation before it can turn her and her newfound companions illithid, she not only finds that their solution has more layers to parse through than she can count, but that a particular vampire in her party does as well.

Unbound is an ongoing generally SFW medium-burn romance based in the world of Baldur's Gate 3 between Astarion and a female OC. Any NSFW content will be marked in the Warnings section. Contains angst, fluff, explorations of trauma, spice, graphic fantasy violence, and a guaranteed happy ending.

For anything additional on what to expect (and not expect), check the preface post.

Summary: The group reaches an impasse in the mountains. En route back to the goblin camp, Voss pays them a visit with a proposition for Lae’zel. Áine finds herself in a difficult conversation with an inebriated, existential Gale away from camp. Gale puts Áine in an uncomfortable (and triggering) position. Astarion is not pleased.

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!OC

Warnings: 18+/NSFW; non-con/attempted assault (start and end will be noted in the copy; specifically descriptions of a nonconsensual kiss and a physical struggle) by a canon character (Gale); descriptions of feeling triggered, vague flashbacks, and a panic attack; angry/violent Astarion; suggestive content (in memories) & dialogue; brief descriptions of graphic violence and blood; angst; lightly proofread

Word Count: 7k

Listening to: Organs - Of Monsters & Men

Áine hung her head, her hands painfully clenched on her hips. All this way and the godsdamned pathway to Moonrise they’d counted on being at the base of the mountain pass was sealed off. Her heart pounded, hurling itself against her ribs as if it too could hardly stand her, and she felt the beginnings of a feverish headache building just above her right eye.

A tug at one of her digging fingertips jarred her mixed self-pity and self-loathing. The tug returned, this time successfully removing her bruising grip on her flesh. The icy touch threaded its nimble fingers through hers, clumsy but ever more practiced in the gesture. The pad of Astarion’s thumb swept her knuckles and Áine lost a little steam.

“This is on me,” Halsin was insisting, gazing at the gnarled sealed passage with lingering shock. “Last I was here, this seal did not exist—that was however years upon years ago.”

“We had no way to know until we arrived,” Gale suggested, offering an understanding look to Halsin despite the strained fix of his brow. “And there remains the Underdark passage. Which, in fairness, could be just as blocked. And in that case…”

“In that case, we find another way,” Wyll posited, ever the optimist or at least the champion of persevering. “The cult is traveling between this stretch of Faerûn and Moonrise one way or another. We will find their path and use it against them.”

“Fuck yeah,” Karlach rallied to the plan.

Áine nodded, drawing in a deep breath to steady herself. “Well said, all of you,” she agreed, listening to everyone’s footsteps starting anew to begin the path back up the mountain. She looked up at the vampire beside her, gently squeezing his hand. “Thank you.”

“For?” he wondered, keeping their hands joined as they followed the others.

The bard shrugged, swinging their entwined fingers up a little as she said, “This, I suppose. And just in general.”

Astarion tsked in disapproval. “Just ‘in general’? That hardly answers my question, my dear.”

Áine provided only an angelic smile in response and the sight caused Astarion to blush. Her smile brightened into a grin. “You know, I think my blood looks better on you than it does on me,” she commented, admiring his pinkened cheeks and ear tips.

“Hush, you,” Astarion grumbled, feeling his skin heat further and feeding into an embarrassment cycle he would have a difficult time subduing for the next few minutes. He sought to change the subject. “How fares your shoulder today?”

She gave an experimental roll of the joint, her eye twitching faintly as she rounded it back into place. “Still a bit stiff, but much better than it would’ve been otherwise thanks to you,” she said.

“Are we discussing your shoulder?” Shadowheart had slowed to walk with them, pleased to find that they were already discussing what she’d dropped back to ask Áine. Astarion stiffened when the cleric cast a proud glance his way. “How did my student manage?”

Gods above, his face was going up in flames again. Well, as much “in flames” as a vampire’s flesh could be.

Áine, however, was very interested in finally getting more of an answer to the unanswered question she’d posed the night before. “Student?” she repeated with interest. Her thumb was tracing small, soothing circles against the side of Astarion’s hand and he couldn’t decide if he was comforted by the fact that she seemed to know this conversation was already putting him on edge. The affectionate strokes did keep him from grumbling and stomping away at least.

Shadowheart smiled wider. “Of course,” she said, getting what she saw as a full-sweep benefit of embarrassing their vampire and letting Áine in on their exchange to properly act as Astarion’s unappointed wingwoman. He didn’t recognize her actions as helpful yet, but he would. “We had an impromptu lesson last night on how to use massage in a medicinal sense,” the cleric explained to Áine, lowering her voice and adding, “he was worried about accidentally hurting you, which was quite sweet.”

“That’s enough of that!” Astarion was grousing, but he fell silent as his eyes caught on Áine’s face. Her wide chocolate eyes shone with an appreciative tenderness, her free hand subconsciously hovering over where her heart beat and signaling just how touched she was by the whole thing.

Áine suddenly blushed harder than he had and turned her gaze to the path beneath their feet to try hiding it, processing the strong reaction she’d had to learning he’d laid his pride at Shadowheart’s feet to ask the cleric for something…to help her. It was such a small thing, but it wouldn’t have felt like a small thing to him to ask for someone’s assistance, and knowing he’d done so despite that because he wanted to make sure she was okay made her positively melt.

Bewildered, Astarion looked over Áine’s bowed head to Shadowheart, who was already looking at him. She gave him a smug look as soon as they made eye contact, but it wasn’t the sort of smug look she’d shot him before. This was a smug look one might give a teammate after a strategic move in a game bore success.

Shadowheart mouthed, “You’re welcome,” to him and smoothed her features just as Áine looked at her again, the flustered bard none the wiser.

Astarion was fascinated by several aspects of what had just happened. The most of which concerned Áine’s reaction to hearing what he’d first thought to be simply embarrassing on his part and also the fact that Shadowheart had just helped him continue to endear himself to her. Even while Áine was faced away and chatting with the cleric, he could still see the dark flush of her skin decorating her neck—especially around the bitemarks he’d left her last night—and on the tips of her ears.

Gods, he was doomed. The entirety of him was coming undone by sentiments he hadn’t even known he was capable of. It hardly seemed fair. To either of them really. After all, at the end of this, if she even gave him the time of day after she realized the only thing she would get with him was baggage. He was a tangle of trauma steeped in shame, his every touch with tainted intention from a body that he’d lost ownership over long ago, he was just a boy who amounted to nothing—

Astarion’s jaw flexed as Cazador’s voice clawed to the surface unbidden in his mind. His teeth gnashed tightly together, a dull pain forming in the grooves. Phantom pains ghosted across his back in the imagined pattern of his scars, his memories of how deeply and how many times Cazador had carved in those lines his only reference to what they looked like. He’d never known, so he didn’t know why it was bothering him now. Perhaps because this was the first time he’d gazed upon his own flesh and had been able to tell himself that it belonged to him, not Cazador, in the better part of two centuries.

“Why is the poem in Infernal?” Áine had asked the morning after their first little tryst in the woods. His stomach fluttered faintly at the extra memories that thinking back to that night evoked. Those feelings, what he’d experienced that night, were all another aspect of this that he needed to try to better understand.

First and foremost, though, he had a duty to himself and he needed to find a way to better understand what he still carried with him from his old master. And if it was indeed Infernal and perhaps wasn’t even a poem at all, then…

What exactly had that monster done to him in the end?

They all managed to retrace their stale steps back to where they’d first begun to crest the mountain path before setting up camp became the priority. A small clearing just uphill from the stone archway marking where they’d begun this leg of their journey made for an acceptable campsite and, within the hour, they’d established their temporary abodes and begun their nightly routines.

Áine had taken an armful of laundry to a nearby spring, carefully scrubbing out dirt, grime, and blood from her and her companions’ clothes. The bard still carried a tiny sense of embarrassment for how hard Shadowheart’s earlier divulgence about Astarion seeking medical advice for her bad shoulder had hit her. Feeling her face warm again, she scrubbed a bloodstain from one of her shirts with renewed fervor.

It was just…sweet. She felt seen. She felt cared for by both of them, but something about his effort to not only help her but let down his walls a little to learn how to best help her was a heady thing to take in.

Áine adjusted the mint leaf she was fiddling with in her mouth with a careful prod of her tongue. She sighed, defeated by her own too-loud heartstrings. “You poor sweet thing… Are you in love with me yet?” Astarion’s voice drifted through her mind, the memory even holding the faint echo of the ruined temple’s acoustics. She’d not answered him then and she wouldn’t answer him now if he asked again, but she was starting to grow concerned that she didn’t even need to answer for the truth to be discovered.

It was his fault for being so damnably easy to love. Even as much as he tried to hold himself back, cement that awful little rake mask to his honest, beautifully open face that could rend her heart in half at a moment’s notice, and skirt the hard topics with playful smirks and coy banter, she either enjoyed their dance or succeeded in seeing through it.

Last night there had hardly been any dancing around each other at all. At least, for a while.

After they’d successfully used their tadpoles to connect their minds and she’d been able to show him what he looked like, both as a mirror would and also through her own eyes after he’d asked, she’d refocused to see tears streaming from his eyes. And before she could check on him, before she could apologize for any of it being too much too soon, he’d kissed her hard. Desperately, hungrily, passionately. Before she’d had time to react at all, she was on her back and he was all she could feel, his hands on her body and in her hair, his tongue in her mouth, his tears occasionally hitting her cheeks like faint, icy pinpricks.

Áine blushed anew and one of her hands raised to brush her spring-cooled fingertips against the fresh bitemarks in her neck, a shiver running through her that had little to do with the chill of her skin.

Up until last night, their coupling had felt careful, and controlled at times too. Their first time had held moments of released inhibition on his part, the height of it when he’d so beautifully come apart in her arms, but she had meant it when she’d asked him the next morning if he’d been all there. If he was alright. The night after had felt even more careful, but it had been sweeter and more romantic, and she’d taken it to be because she’d been upset not long before and he’d intentionally taken things more slowly.

And then there’d been last night. When the only thing he’d done “carefully” was position one of his arms around her back in a way that stabilized her shoulder while he’d railed her within an inch of her life, his fangs deep in her neck as he’d repeatedly buried himself inside her.

Her face reddened at the memory alone. It’d been all she could do not to wake the damn camp and based on the way he’d needed to stifle the occasional grunt, growl, or groan against her neck or her lips, she could only assume he’d run into a similar dilemma. A faint, smug smile tugged at her mouth. He was still cautious with what he let her do, but she looked forward to discovering all of his most secret, sensitive little spots.

Her smile faded a little as she plunged the shirt she was working on back into the cold mountain water, thinking that she also looked forward to getting him a little more used to the idea of aftercare. Not even necessarily for her—it was something she wanted to do for him, another way she wanted to convey that she cared about him. She’d so far just seemed to confuse him with her affections out of bed.

Áine’s first real attempt—given that he’d managed to exquisitely exhaust her the first night they’d spent together and on the second she’d excused herself after a while because she overthought the fact that he’d seen her cry—had been last night. Astarion had all but collapsed atop her after they’d finished and she’d been more than content to gather him close, her legs still wrapped around his hips and her arms following suit as she’d pressed a kiss to his temple. Áine had felt him start to lean into her, but he’d suddenly stiffened and cleared his throat as he reached back to slide her ankles off his backside.

“Something wrong?” she’d asked, letting her arms loosen so he could lean away if he wanted to. She wanted him to stay or to at least rest a moment and bask in the afterglow a bit, but she also didn’t want him to stay if he preferred not to. And it had seemed at first that he simply wasn’t the sort that enjoyed a bit of pillow talk and snuggling after the main event. However, she’d thought back to how foreign handholding had seemed to him on that first-morning walk back to their camp and Áine had started to wonder if this was all just new for him too.

“Not at all,” Astarion had responded and he’d been just a touch too slow to hide the longing look in his eyes. She’d mentally latched to it like a fish to a hook, deciding that he could tell her the moment her little attempts at extra affection got annoying or unwanted and, until then, she’d simply try as the mood struck her. Maybe he’d think she was odd, but then again maybe he wouldn’t. “Simply allowing us both to get some rest after…that.” He’d looked embarrassed as he added, “Apologies for being a bit sloppy.”

Áine had cocked her head. “Passionate, you mean?” she’d corrected him. “Don’t be.” He was already pulling his pants back on and had just chuckled at her words. She’d hesitated, afraid of seeming needy, and said, “...You can stay, you know.”

Astarion’s hands had stilled on his shirt as if he’d been briefly considering it before he shuffled the garment back on. “I’m afraid if I do I’ll be unable to keep my hands off you, darling,” he’d replied, but she’d sensed that this was simply a way to dodge her offer.

She’d let it go, kissing him goodnight when he’d turned to capture her lips one more time, and watched him leave with a sting of disappointment as she went about cleaning herself up and properly readying herself for bed.

Now, gathering up the washed clothes in her arms, Áine let out a sigh. Until he informed her that he abhorred the idea of post-coital cuddles, he’d be getting them from now on. She wanted them and she just had this nagging feeling that he simply didn’t know what he was missing and she’d be more than happy to show him.

It was almost comical to her how the importance of getting an illithid tadpole out of her brain felt on par with the importance of ensuring that, even if it ended up irritating him, Astarion understood he was someone who was cherished. She was an utter fool, but, as she’d said more than once in her life, she’d never professed to be smart.

Áine congratulated herself upon her return to camp for setting up her makeshift clothesline ahead of time before she’d done the washing, making the task of hanging the clothes a more straightforward one. She’d hardly started when Wyll joined her and held his hands out to relieve her of the wet garments. “Thank you, but I can—,” she started to say, but faltered when she saw his wary expression. “What’s the matter?”

“Leave these to me,” he said, removing the load from her arms as he added, “You may want to check on Astarion. I heard him muttering in his tent and tried to ask after him, but he barked me away before I could get a word in edgewise.”

Áine’s brows rose. “Oh… I wonder what that could be about,” she mumbled, noticing as she looked toward Astarion’s tent that Halsin was fireside tonight managing supper. “Where’s Gale?”

Wyll shrugged as he hung the laundry. “Couldn’t tell you,” he admitted. “He’s still not himself. He seems to be getting better and then he’s just…not quite Gale again. I’ve tried to talk to him, but he isn’t there yet, I don’t think. Though who could be after a salutation like Mystra’s?”

Áine grumbled at the mention of her name. “Who could, indeed.” She sighed. “I might try talking to him. Later, after I see what Astarion’s up to… I need to start a list.”

Wyll chuckled, but his expression remained troubled. “You think you’re ready to talk to Gale?” he asked. “At length, I mean. After yesterday.”

“I’m feeling more comfortable about the idea if that’s what you’re asking,” she replied. “I just need to catch him in a ‘Gale’ moment rather than a ‘not quite Gale’ moment, I suppose. But I think waiting too long will do more harm than good.”

“I think you might be right,” Wyll agreed. “Good luck. With, well, all of it.”

Áine laughed softly and patted his shoulder. “Thank you, my friend,” she said as she began the short trek to Astarion’s tent. She passed out hellos to anyone she passed by, including Halsin and Karlach who were stooped over the fire, Karlach seeming to be less of an assistant and more of a student under Halsin’s patient instruction.

As she drew nearer to the familiar wine-red canvas structure, her ears honed in on her lover’s voice just past the half-parted entrance. His tone sounded stressed, anxious, and almost a little sad.

“A line with a fork and…one…two…three dots?” Astarion was mumbling to himself, his fingertips tracing the base of his back and traveling as high as he could physically reach behind him. A twinge in his muscles made him jolt faintly and swear. “Bloody Infernal… How is anyone meant to read this garbage?”

Figuring he’d already heard her approach, Áine leaned in to peek through the open part of his tent door, finding him cross-legged on the floor with his shirt off and his arms wound behind him. “What are you up to, handsome?” she asked.

Managing what she’d thought next to impossible, Áine realized she’d startled him. “Ah!” he gasped. With kneejerk agitation, he asked, “Wh-What are you doing?!”

Áine flushed with chagrin and quickly said, “Sorry, sorry! I’ll go,” as she turned to duck out from under the opening in the canvas.

“No, no, wait…,” Astarion said hastily and when Áine turned to look back at him, she found one of his hands outstretched in front of him as if to guide her back. He sighed and let the hand rest against his knee. “I’m sorry. You caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

“I should’ve found a way to knock,” Áine suggested, but she was appreciative of how quick he’d been to apologize for his snap. “Everything okay?”

Astarion paused, trying to find his words. “I’ve…been tracing the scars on my back with my fingers, trying to read them by touch, but…,” he sighed and it was a sound of pure frustration. “I can’t. They may as well be written in Rashemi.”

Áine’s heart gave a sympathetic pang. “Would you like me to take another look?” she offered.

“I…,” Astarion hesitated again. Briskly, he said, “This isn’t your problem, you know.” Áine gave a quiet snort in response but said nothing as she waited for him to decide for himself. At last, Astarion’s pride buckled and he murmured, “...Fine.”

Áine entered his tent and knelt as Astarion shifted to turn his back to her. “If you intend to touch them,” he said uneasily, “would you tell me before you do?”

The bard smiled and gave his arm a gentle pat. “I would, but I won’t touch them.”

At his nod, Áine began to study the marks, subconsciously tilting her head as if it could somehow help her read the language she was hardly at all familiar with. She hummed under her breath, contemplating showing him the markings by using the tadpole again, but she knew that she’d taxed it plenty the night before to show him his face and it wouldn’t be wise to use it again so soon.

Agitated by the silence, Astarion prompted her. “And? What can you see?”

Áine sighed. “I’m honestly not sure. But maybe I could draw it for you?”

Astarion glanced toward his books and loot all lumped in a small pile at the corner of his tent. “I haven’t any ink or parchment,” he said, audibly tense.

“No need,” Áine mumbled, already tracing the markings she saw on a smaller scale into the dirt beside his bedroll. He was careful not to turn fully to look at what she worked on, reminding himself that the longer he let her study his scars, the sooner he’d get to see for himself. Still, he found himself fidgeting impatiently as he listened to the meticulous scratching of her fingertip piercing the ground. Silence stretched for a moment as Áine compared his scars with her rendition one more time. “I’m done, I think.”

Astarion turned to look at what she’d drawn, dread pooling like bile in his stomach. “What in the Hells…,” he mumbled, his brows forming a deep crease between them. She was right—it was most certainly Infernal, but…why? “What did he do to me?”

Áine pursed her lips, rubbing the dirt from her fingers. “It’s an…odd poem,” she murmured, although she wasn’t convinced the line he’d been fed about what these lines meant was the truth either.

He seemed to agree. “If it’s a poem at all…,” Astarion said, his hand resting across his mouth. A sigh eased past his lips and Áine looked up from the drawing to his face, seeing something unreadable there. “Two centuries carrying this, and I can finally see it.”

Gods, she wanted to help him, she just didn’t know how. Áine suggested, “Maybe Karlach could read it?”

“Perhaps, but… Let’s just keep this between us for now,” he said, his jaw setting. Asking for her help, despite it being her, had taken enough out of him for the day in the way of depending upon other people. He disliked the idea of being studied like a test subject by the larger group. Astarion’s eyes finally met hers as he added, “Thank you, by the way. This is…well, it’s something.”

“Anytime,” Áine murmured, feeling his conflict like it was her own. “We’ll figure it out. I promise.”

Astarion smirked. “Will we now? How…,” he paused, metering his negative outlook with his next words. Or word, rather. “…sweet.”

Áine smiled, raising her hand to trace her fingertips across his cheek. “‘Sweet’ from me isn’t on offer for just anyone,” she commented, earning a snort from Astarion. “What?”

“You are by and large one of the kindest people this wretched world has to its name,” he informed her, turning his head toward her hand while maintaining eye contact with her. He breathed deeply at the pulse point on her wrist. “The fact that you seem to think that’s not the case is laughable.”

“Kind is different than sweet,” Áine declared in a soft voice, her eyes dipping to trace his lips as she leaned closer to him. “My ‘sweetness’ stocks are smaller and on a more exclusive reserve.”

Astarion still wasn’t accustomed to being the one flirted with, especially by someone who could so easily set his silent chest aflame, but gods he loved it when she looked at him like that. “From what I’ve tasted of you, you’re plenty sweet, my love,” he murmured. He leaned in to meet her halfway, brushing his nose against hers and savoring the feel of her warm breath against his lips. “However, I think what you might be getting at is that I’m,” he gave a soft theatrical gasp, “special?”

Áine grinned, skimming her fingertips up from his cheek to run through his curls. “Very special,” she murmured. She loved the little way he nudged their noses together, she realized. It was cute, but it had also been the first little gesture from him that had felt natural, like him and not just like a seduction tip from a paperback romance novel. She savored all his gestures now, even the more practiced ones because at least she now knew that he felt something for her. Áine wasn’t so sure that he was pleased about that, but she’d enjoy it however long it lasted.

The scrape of steel and Lae’zel’s voice raising outside caused Áine to look away from Astarion, frowning as she angled her head to try and see what was going on outside. Astarion huffed and leaned further in, kissing up her neck in an endeavor to reclaim her focus. Áine was amused by his persistence but started to worry that another spat was brewing between Lae’zel and Shadowheart or that they were on the precipice of being attacked. “What’s going on?” she murmured, starting to get up.

“I don’t know, darling, pay attention to me,” Astarion grumbled against her throat, making her laugh. “If they’re all dead when I let you leave in, say, a few hours, we’ll furnish that cryptic old mummy with a bit of gold and buy them back in installments.”

“He referred to you as my ‘bosom-companion’ the other day, you know,” Áine informed him, looking back at him to gauge his reaction.

Astarion arched a brow up at her and remarked, “Far be it from me to disappoint,” before he pulled her to him and buried his face against her breasts.

She left him laughing at the shriek of surprise he’d managed to draw from her, ruffling a hand through his pomaded hair to get back at him as she ducked out of his tent.

Fixing her neckline, Áine glanced toward Lae’zel’s tent and saw…Kith’rak Voss? He was kneeling in submission with his sword set across the ground in front of him and speaking to Lae’zel and Wyll, it seemed, who was helping to play mediator. When she caught Wyll’s eye, Áine glanced meaningfully between him and the two githyanki, wondering if he needed her to step in. Wyll nodded once back to reassure her that he had it under control before he turned his attention back to something Voss was saying.

Áine relaxed at that, mentally performing a headcount around the camp now that night had thoroughly fallen.

Karlach lingered near the conversation taking place, her gaze shifting occasionally toward Lae’zel with some measure of concern. The githyanki warrior had remained understandably fragile in spirit since all that happened at the crèche and ‘Mama K’ was defaulting to overprotective of her friends, even as her engine roared to an all-time high.

Halsin had retired to his tent and looked as though he was reading a tome that looked like a pamphlet in his large hands, his scarred brow furrowed in concentration as his eyes scoured the pages. He only occasionally paused to have a bite of his quickly cooling dinner sitting beside him when he remembered it was there. She recalled him mentioning that he’d missed reading and was glad to see he’d already found something to pick up on the road.

Shadowheart was nowhere to be seen, but Áine soon gathered that she’d retired early when she noticed thin spindling threads of smoke making their way out of her nearby tent, born from some incense she’d been pleased to find on their way from the temple grounds.

Áine’s thoughts turned to Gale and she sighed, knowing she needed to go find him. He’d been gone for hours at this point, ever since they’d set up camp, and as much as she wanted to just turn around and fall back into bed with Astarion, they needed to talk and smooth some things over. With a resigned sigh, she trudged away from her lover’s tent and toward the edge of camp to start scouting for their missing wizard.

It didn’t take her too long to find him. Gale had found himself a small clearing to settle into and looked almost peaceful to Áine as she approached. However, there was still something very off about his demeanor, the way he held himself, even seated in the grass.

Not wanting to scare him, Áine announced her presence. “Gale?”

Gale turned his head at hearing his name, seeming dazed. “Oh. Hello,” he said, clearly surprised to see her. “Brave of you to venture so close.”

Áine sighed. “Come off it,” she murmured, sitting down next to him. The mountain foliage around them offered a crisp, pleasant smell amplified by the cool night air. She breathed deeply of it to ground herself.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” Gale agreed, his eyes tracing the leaves making up the canopy. “It’s the little things. Even in as much as we’ve weathered thus far.”

Áine nodded. “They’re what get us by in the end, it’s true,” she agreed. She looked at him, frowning. “Gale, I owe you an apology, I think.” And you owe me one, too, but I can only own up to my own shit, she added mentally.

“I suppose it is indeed time we dealt with the hollyphant in the room,” he said, his tone terse. “I’m listening.”

Áine’s pride flared, but she tempered the burst of incredulous anger in her chest and continued. “I stand by why I was upset,” she said candidly. “However, I reacted before I heard the whole of what Elminster said. And now knowing what the whole of his visit was about, that feels unfair of me to have done.”

“An audience with Elminster is never less than memorable,” Gale mused. “You reacted how I would have expected you to, all said. You can hardly be faulted for feeling betrayed just because you pity me now.” He sighed. “I couldn’t find a way to tell you. To tell any of the others. That was my mistake and I should have shoved my fears aside the moment I realized that absorbing the power from the magical items you provided me was no longer working.”

“What exactly is it?” Áine asked, her eyes moving over the marking across the center of his chest, its tendrils that wove up toward his eye. She’d always just thought it was a tattoo, but was it the result of the orb too?

“That’s a rather long and complicated story…,” Gale sighed, unsteadily turning toward her. “It would be easier for me, in this moment, to show you.” Áine met his eyes with confusion and he said, “Place your hand over my heart.”

Hesitantly, Áine raised her hand and let it hover over his chest where the perfect circle marked into his skin resided in the vee of his robe. Purple light flooded the space between her palm and his chest and her tadpole shivered in recognition as Gale used his own parasite to let her into his very existence.

Into the dark.

Áine’s body seized as her eyes filled with Gale’s memory—a dread vision of a hallway, a book bound, and then opened, and a horrible remnant unearthed. The book holds nothing but swirling energy, the blackest threads of the Weave that lie in deadly wait. They hurl themselves at Gale—and now at Áine too through his eyes—and shred through the layers that make him, seeking to unmake him in mind and magic if it means a tender meal. And gods is it ever hungry.

< Beginning of non-con content warning >

Losing herself in the memory, feeling his soul wrenching in her very being as if it were her own, Áine fearfully tried to draw her hand back only to find Gale’s hands grasping hers, his grip turning painful when she tried to pull away. His fingers crushed hers like the dark Weave crushed his spirits, its claws and its teeth scraping still at the base of his heart. Even dormant, it struggles to wake, seeks to feed…

Áine succeeded at last in wrestling back her hand, clutching it against her chest as she stretched her aching fingers. “Gods above,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“Please,” Gale pleaded with her in a whisper. His eyes still looked half-fogged from the vision and as he came closer and closer, Áine caught a pungent scent of wine on his breath. She realized that a faint glint that she’d seen just past him on the grass when she’d arrived had been moonlight catching on the curve of an empty wine bottle. No, two… No, three empty bottles. He reeked of it. “Áine, please don’t leave me there alone.”

“Gale, you’re not there now,” Áine asserted, leaning away and balancing against her hands. She was starting to get nervous. Gale was drunk and seemed utterly lost in his own dark memories. She’d been in scenarios like this before with faces long faded within her past and she felt the familiar constriction in her chest, the sensation wrapping against her heart and lungs even as they began to work in overtime. “Gale, st—”

But he didn’t stop encroaching. The whiskers of his beard scratched her face and the scent of alcohol stung her nose when he put his mouth on hers, her protest swallowed and silenced. Áine grappled with him, one of her arms pressed against his chest to fend him off while her other arm stayed propped behind her. “Please, Áine, a chance,” he mumbled, his words slurring. “Just one chance before my world upends…”

She gave a muffled yelp of protest against his lips, tears stinging her eyes as she was finally able to at least wrench her head sideways. Áine tried to push him off, but he was bigger than she was and her paladin strength of old—the strength that had gotten her out of these many similar situations her mind called back to her now—was long gone, a broken oath ringing hollow. She just had herself, her own body, to rely on now.

“Gale, get off me or I’ll scream,” she gritted with panic rising in her voice, squirming away from his hands fumbling to hold her in place. He was too close for her to swing at him and, even as she had the passing thought, she felt her shoulder flare again under their weight. Her arm, the last thing keeping her upright, buckled underneath her with her old injuries’ betrayal, sending them both into the dirt.

When he put his greedy mouth on hers again, his heavier body pinning hers down, she bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. That was enough to shock him and make him lean back. “You little—”

Áine tried to use the space he’d added between them to push herself up and shove him away, but her shoulder stayed locked up and she only succeeded in flailing a little. She struggled to get her pinned legs out from under his knees, knowing if she could manage that she’d be able to kick him and get away.

Just a little more, she urged herself, her right leg in a painful position but almost free and mobile again.

But suddenly Gale was no longer on top of her to struggle against.

< End of non-con content warning >

Áine remained sprawled on the grass in a mixed state of shock. She was sure she hadn’t imagined the whole thing out of some horribly lucid trauma response, but she had trouble putting two and two together until the wizard was slammed back down onto the dirt nearby by a very angry vampire.

The bard turned onto her stomach, shifting her shaking knees beneath her and trying to control her panicked breathing. A flash of silver caught her eye as a dagger pressed to Gale’s throat and her panic blossomed anew but, with it, an urgent clarity. “Astarion, hold on!” she choked.

Astarion looked every part the terrifying image of a vampire that most people held as their source of truth for the creatures. His eyes blazed crimson, aglow in the shadows blanketing them here, and his lips curled back from his fangs with a viciousness she’d never seen in him before.

He half-spat in bewilderment at her plea, his words coming out in a near-animalistic growl. “You would defend him?!”

Áine forced enough air into her hyperventilating lungs to respond, “I’m not keen to get blown up and…he’s very drunk… He’s not himself…” She was barely staving off the panic threatening to overtake her, the reactive onslaught coming now that she was no longer in immediate danger. But Gale was.

Astarion sneered down at Gale, his fingers flexing against the hilt of his dagger. “Then I’ll ask you, Gale, which will you miss more?” he wondered, his voice deadly pleasant. “Will you miss your eyes most? Or perhaps your balls?” His eyes flashed as he bore down on the prone wizard too fearful or too dazed to move. “Because I will be taking something from you this night.”

He had felt rage like this in his lifetime. Plenty. He knew it intimately. But he’d never felt it flare so violently for someone else. He’d checked Áine’s tent for her after he’d not spotted her amongst the group seeing off Voss and had taken it upon himself to follow her scent out of camp.

Assuming he’d either find her in a little spot they could make into another of their pieces of “nowhere” or off scouting ahead for their best path forward, he’d been mildly surprised to catch Gale’s scent, staler than hers, on the same trail. Perhaps they were finally smoothing some things over. And, upon seeing them in a darkened tangle in the grass, he could admit that he’d first thought that “smoothing things over” had led to some sort of realization on her part. He’d even started to brace himself to go back to camp and wait for her to return and tell him they were done.

Then he’d smelled Gale’s blood. He’d heard him when he’d started to swear at her or say whatever it was that he’d cut off from saying. And then the palpable smell of Áine’s fear had hit Astarion’s nose, punctuated by a tiny yelp of pain when she’d hurt herself in her struggle to get away from Gale.

And without another thought, Astarion had rushed them like a man possessed, his entrance silent until he’d ripped Gale off her by the back of his robe and hurled him into the ground hard enough to knock the wind from his lungs. And there they were still while Astarion debated the wizard’s fate from a place of pure, unbridled anger, where only one thing could still permeate his red-tinted tunnel vision.

“Astarion, please,” Áine breathed raggedly. “It’s not worth it, just leave him!”

“It’s ‘not worth it’, is it?” he snarled. His addled mind translated Áine’s words to mean that she thought she wasn’t worth his ire and, bleeding Hells, was she ever wrong. “In what sense?”

Áine floundered for something, anything to dissuade him from the wizard pinned beneath him. And she could only come up with one thing. The truth.

She inhaled and her breath shook as much as her voice as she said, “Because I need you more than he does right now.”

It worked. Astarion hesitated, his eyes briefly flickering toward Áine on the ground and losing some of their blind wrath. He clenched his teeth and forced himself to steady as he regarded Gale. She was right about one thing—he reeked of wine and self-pity.

Astarion growled low, but flicked his dagger away from Gale’s throat, sheathing it. Partway through standing, Astarion drew his fist back with inhuman speed and punched Gale once hard across his face. The wizard groaned, his hands going instinctively to cup where he’d been hit.

Astarion’s voice was all velvet and steel as he spoke down to Gale with a gesture toward Áine. “Thank her for being the sole reason you’ll walk from these woods tonight,” he ordered in a barely controlled snarl. When Gale didn’t immediately speak, Astarion roughly turned Gale’s head with the toe of his boot to face the bard. “Thank. Her.”

Gale’s nose was dripping red, a welt forming already under his eye at the apple of his cheek. Áine’s eyes were round with shock as she met his eyes and, wetly through a thin stream of tears and blood, he said, “...Thank you…”

“Very good,” Astarion muttered with venom, removing his boot from Gale’s cheek. “Now don’t speak to her again unless or until she permits it.”

The vampire stepped over the bloodied wizard and silently walked to his bard. He said nothing as he knelt, gathered her close, and plucked her off the grass, carrying her back to camp. He stayed silent when curious questions rose around them from their still-awake companions, ignoring them all.

Áine found herself almost afraid to break the silence between them, but she didn’t have to as he gritted through his fangs, “Would you like me to take you to your tent?”

She swallowed hard and shook her head. “N-No.”

“Good,” he growled, his arms tightening around her as he ducked down and took her with him into his.

Next chapter: Chapter 15, "Their Jagged Edges"

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