#I love learning these two but holy smokes sometimes
Note
if you haven’t gotten it yet, “nope, puppy dog eyes aren’t going to work this time!” for Eddie 🥹
AN | I’m not even gonna lie and say I’m not projecting with this. But here we are. I love a sweet, shy Eddie….and I might even have thrown in one of my favorite tropes for a little razzle dazzle. Enjoy 🥰
Warnings | Language, Drug Mention
Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader
Word Count | 3.4k
Masterlist | Main, Eddie
here’s a lil part two if it should please you!
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Eddie liked watching you. Holy fuck. He felt like a creep admitting that, even just to himself.
At least he wasn’t some sort of weird stalker…no, he was more of…an admirer from afar. Sometimes going unnoticed was nice. He’d learned a lot of things about you that way. He knew that if you were laughing too hard, eventually it would just turn into a squeaky wheeze that left you breathless. He knew that you had a tendency to cover your mouth when you were smiling because you were self conscious of having too big of a smile.
He knew that you liked wearing soft, pretty dresses and sweaters in all colors of the rainbow. He knew that despite the fact that you came off as quiet you managed to find your voice when necessary. He knew that you wore the same perfume everyday, and it managed to make his brain go haywire. He knew you were kind to everyone. He knew that you liked to smoke and drink sometimes and would come to him when you needed a fill.
He knew that you’d always seen him even when he felt like he was invisible. He knew he loved you. Not…not love. Liked. Liked. Right? Love was too strong and there was no way that metalhead Eddie Munson was in love with the soft, pretty girl. No way. You were different from him, that was all. He was just fascinated by the vast differences. Surely that was all. If he was the dark, then you were the light and while the two could co-exist, they weren’t made for one another. That’s what he told himself anyway. If he believed it was just an odd fascination he had with you, it was easier to keep his distance. But that was already a challenge on its own, one that was wearing him down more with each passing day.
“Eddie?” he blinked his way back into reality as he watched Dustin wave his hand in front of his face, “everything okay?”
“Just fine, Henderson,” he promised with a tight lipped smile. Before he was fully willing to let go of his little viewing party, he cast one final look in your direction and found you watching him. His heart rate increased tenfold as you beamed at him and gave him a small wave. He barely managed to raise his hand in response, surprised that you had caught him, and even more surprised that he had caught you doing the same thing.
“Eddie!”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“Hiya,” you’d spotted his unruly mop of hair from the distance and had practically run over to him, purposefully slowing down so you didn’t look too eager. He’d been doodling in his notebook but looked up at the sound of your voice. His full lips parted slightly in surprise at your appearance and his cheeks warmed up. What if you’d come to yell at him for starting? For being a creep? You sat down on the old bench across from him, “how’s it going, Eds?”
The use of his nickname made him weak in his knees, and he was thankful for the fact that he was sitting. He swallowed thickly and reminded him that there was no reason to be nervous, you were just another girl that he knew, “good, yeah. Fine. I’m good. You’re good…shit. How are you?”
“Are you alright?” you laughed at his stammering as his cheeks flushed a soft pink. He noticed that you’d gone to put your hand in front of your mouth again, and before he could even think about what he was doing, he reached over and wrapped his ringed fingers around your wrist and gently pulled your hand away. You made a small sound of surprise at his delicate touch, “what was that for?”
“Your smile,” he somehow managed to regain some confidence, “you cover it up. Why?”
“I dunno,” you shrugged, feeling warm from his curious gaze, “I have a big mouth and big smile I guess. Some kids used to make fun of me for it. Just a habit to cover it.”
“You shouldn’t,” he insisted with a smile of his own, “your smile is beautiful.”
“There’s no need to tease me,” you gave him a small, closed mouth smile as you lightly swatted his hand away, giggling nervously. Ugh. Why did you still have to get so nervous around him? You’d known him for years, it shouldn’t be like this. It was Eddie. But that was the problem in and of itself - it was Eddie.
“I’m not,” his insistence was firm and from the determined look in his eyes, one that made your stomach somersault, you could see that he was serious, “it’s like sunshine. You should never feel like you have to hide it.”
You stared at him for a few, long quiet moments with your breath caught in your throat. Was someone as beautiful as him really complimenting your smile? You opened and closed your mouth a few times in search of the right words, but found yourself unable. There was plenty you wanted to say to him, but you couldn’t do it. Not this right now - not with the way he was looking with those soft, big brown eyes, “umm…so anyway. I came here for a reason. Business purposes naturally.”
“Business,” he repeated as his heart dropped ever so slightly. He was trying to figure out if you were being serious or…not. If you were being honest, the business aspect had been the last thing on your mind but you’d chickened out from saying anything else and opted for that excuse, “mhmm. What can I do for you?”
“Well, you are the resident weed man,” you reached into your pocket and pulled out a few crumpled bills, “I’ve got $25 if you’ve got any to spare.”
“I…” sure, he sold weed to almost half of Hawkins and he’d sold to you several times, but when he just…couldn’t. He didn’t want your money, he’d rather have any other part of you that you would be willing to give him, “actually I’m fresh out. Sorry.”
“Oh,” your expression faltered slightly as you shoved the money back into your pocket. You wondered if he was telling the truth or just didn’t want to sell to you for some reason, “well, you are a busy man after all. I’ll try you some other time.”
“Sure.”
“Well,” your tongue darted out to wet your lips, a gesture not unnoticed by him before you gently tapped your knuckles against the table, “I guess I should get going then.”
You stood up and he followed suit, wiping his hands on his ripped jeans, “h-hey.”
“Hey yourself,” you teased back, watching a softness creep back into his eyes.
“I-I’ll see you around, yeah?”
“I hope so,” you tilted your head to the side and gave him your biggest smile, halfway through reaching up to cover your mouth, but stopped yourself and flailed your hands around. He laughed at your silly gesture, “see you around, Eds.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
If you had told Eddie Munson that he’d find himself on your doorstep on a late Friday afternoon, ringing your doorbell with nervous anticipation he would have laughed. He wasn’t the type of person to pursue someone. But you weren’t just someone. Not to him.
“Coming!” he heard your voice soft call out before he heard the sounds of what he was sure was you bounding down the stairs. Within a few moments, you’d pulled open the door, breathless and smiling happily, “Eddie! Hi! Wait…Eddie? What are you doing here? Not that I don’t want you here. Because I do! I mean - I, ugh, it’s a surprise is all. Pleasant surprise. I…”
“Yeah?” he laughed softly at your jumble of words as you bounced up and down your heels.
“Yeah,” you promised, “what are you doing here? Do you wanna come in?”
“No, actually,” he looked around before digging into his pocket and slyly holding out a small bag to you, “replenished stock.”
“Oh! Let me grab the cash,” you were already going to turn around but he gripped your arm lightly to stop you, “you didn’t have to come all the way over for just that, love.”
“No cash,” he insisted as you huffed dramatically. He almost choked on thin air at what you’d just said. If you’d noticed, you didn’t show any indication that you did. You motioned for him to go on, “I have…a request. Like a…quid pro quo or whatever it’s called.”
“So a favor for the weed?” you asked as he nodded, nervously scratching the back of his neck, “sure, anything you need, Eds.”
“Will you pretend to be my girlfriend?” he stammered it out so quickly you weren’t sure you’d heard him correctly. You raised your eyebrows in surprise and he sighed at himself, “there’s this gig tomorrow and these other guys have been bugging me about never going out and I told them it was because I was spending time with my girlfriend. It was the first thing I could think of and I just want them out of my hair.”
“Eddie,” you laughed, that sweet, soft sound that threatened to break him and get him on his knees in worship, “that’s so silly! You told them you had a girl instead of just saying you don’t like going out?!”
“It was the heat of the moment!”
“Eds!”
“Fuck, I know, I’m so stupid,” he groaned before looking at you with a softness you had never seen before in those ridicuslosuly beautiful eyes, “but it’s just for one night and it doesn’t have to be long, maybe an hour or two.”
“Nope, puppy dog eyes aren’t going to work this time,” you were trying to keep your weak resolve from completely crumbling. The idea that Eddie had asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend, even if it was just for a few hours, made your heart practically sing. You might have imagined dating Eddie a few times…might have. But you’d never admit that. You definitely did not fall asleep while playing out all sorts of sweet scenarios between the two of you. Definitely not. Nope. You’d never once imagine him kissing you until you were breathless. Never. Or maybe more often than not.
“I’d owe you everything,” he pleaded and you couldn’t say no. It was only a few hours, what could go wrong? Plus, then you’d get to spend time with Eddie with no pretenses and with no need for excuses, “come on, sunshine. Please?”
“Alright,” you gave in and he let out a sigh of relief, “only for tomorrow right?”
“Right,” he nodded fervently, “and free weed for life or whatever you want.”
“Eddie,” you leaned in and before thinking too much of it, kissed his cheek quickly, “what time are you picking me up then, boyfriend?”
“How about six?” he asked, his cheek practically on fire from your kiss. He wondered if the rest of his skin would feel like that if you kissed him more. He was dumbfounded for a moment, his fingers brushing over the skin your lips had touched before he snapped back into reality, “m-maybe we can grab dinner beforehand or whatever, it’s not-”
“Perfect,” you promised and he visibly relaxed. Eddie Munson had never once been left this shy and flustered by anyone before. And yet here you were, doing it without any effort. He was an absolute sucker for you , “I, ugh…I’ll see you at six then.”
“See you at six, Eddie.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
She was all colorful pretty nails, cute dresses, and soft makeup. The warm, sweet smell of her perfume and natural scent had ingrained itself in his mind, and he wished it could have clung to his clothes, his pillows, everything. But, he realized, the issue was exactly that. He loved everything about you but no one would believe that Eddie Munson was dating a soft-spoken pretty little thing. No, he was going to need you to play the part completely - if you’d still be willing to do him the favor. Surely you could stand being grunged up and messy for one night. That was if you didn’t immediately laugh at the idea and slam the door in his face.
He knew that deep down, despite the pretty vision you presented, you were much more wicked and sinful. Just like him. Eddie had the feeling that the two of you were much more alike than different, even if it wasn’t obvious.
At six o’clock on the dot, Eddie knocked at your door and you opened it within seconds, as though you had been waiting for him. You had been.
“Hi,” you were bubbling with excited energy at the thought of your date - even if it was pretend. He looked you over and found it almost endearing that you were dressed down in a hoodie and some old, threadbare pajama pants, “you’re just in time!”
“Gonna go out like that?” he raised an eyebrow as you looked down at yourself and sighed. You reached for his hand and started to pull him inside.
“I need your help,” you insisted, “I couldn’t figure out what to wear. Will you help? It’ll only take a few minutes.”
His brain went haywire at the thought of not only seeing your room and closet, your sacred spaces, but helping you pick out clothes. He’d give you his own if that had been an option, “s-sure. Do you really-”
“Yes,” you shut the door and laced your fingers through his as you started up the stairs, “don’t worry, no one’s home. And even if they were, it wouldn’t matter, I already told them we’re going out.”
He couldn’t even think of anything to say to that. What could he possibly say that wouldn’t ruin anything?
Once in your room, you shut the door and moved him so he was sitting on your bed. The fabric of the blanket was soft under his calloused fingertips and he was tempted to lie down and make himself comfortable.
“Okay,” you turned around and pulled out a few things and tossed them next to him, “I have no clue what to wear, and I know this isn’t exactly my scene so maybe you could help?”
“Funny,” he grabbed one of the shirts you’d tossed towards him, playing with the soft fabric, “I was thinking the same thing. Are you sure you don’t mind getting down and dirty for one night?”
“Nope,” you insisted, secretly thrilled at the idea that you’d look more like him than your usual self. Sure, you liked soft, pretty things, but you liked things with a hard edge too. Just like Eddie, you supposed, “you’re the artist and I am but a humble muse.”
He almost choked on air at your words before he collected himself. He stood up and ghosted his fingertips along your jaw, the simple touch electric, “first - do you have a pair of scissors?”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“Stop squirming,” he had a nice smile. All teeth and dimples and magic. This close up you could see that he had the faintest sprinkling of freckles across his cheeks and nose. His eyes were a labyrinth of different shades of chocolatey brown and gold flecks; he was beautiful. You found it hard not to wiggle as he held your jaw and attempted to smudge black eyeliner under your eyes, “I’m gonna poke an eye out!”
“I can’t help it!” you giggled, “I’m ticklish and it feels funny!”
“Almost done,” he promised, his tongue sticking out in concentration. You stood as still as possible as he worked in silence for a few moments before he made a small sound of triumph, “there we go.”
He stood back and admired his handiwork, amazed by the difference a little dark, grungey makeup could make. You were just as pretty with it or without it. You nudged him with your hip so you could step in front of your mirror. You almost didn’t recognize yourself as you stood there in jeans that were now covered in various rips and holes, a fitted black shirt topped off with the red flannel that he’d run and grabbed from his van. As soon as he’d put it on you, you were enveloped in his warm scent and decided you would try to steal it. At least for a little while anyway. Your eyes were now lined with the dark smudgey eyeliner and your lips were a dark red. It was completely different from your normal look, but at the same time, it felt like you, “hmmm…”
“Hmmm,” he came up behind you and caught your eye in the mirror, “you don’t like it.”
“On the contrary,” you insisted as you turned to face with excitement written all over your face, “I love it. And your flannel. Which I’m totally calling dibs on by the way.”
“Oh?” he crossed his arms over his chest and you caught a glimpse of the bats he had tattooed on his forearm. You nodded confidently and he gave up any guise of being serious, “it’s all yours, sunshine.”
“I always get what I want,” you scurried back to the closet and grabbed a pair of converse, sitting down to slip them on. Do you want me? The question was on the edge of his tongue but he couldn’t quite get it out, “ready to go, love?”
“Y-yeah,” when did his voice go back to its prepubescent state? He cleared his throat and nodded, holding his hand out to help you to your feet, “let’s go.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You were halfway through your shared stack of pancakes and milkshake at the small, out of the way diner you loved, when you caught him studying you intently. You swallowed the bite you had just shoved in your mouth before looking at him with wide eyes. Tapping your fingers around your mouth, you tried to find any crumbs or mess, “is there something on my face?”
“No,” he shook as he reached for his straw and took a long drink from the glass. You set down your fork and watched him curiously. This time he grew self conscious, “what? Something on my face now?”
“No,” you promised, worrying your bottom lip as you weighed over your next words carefully, “Eds? Can I ask you a question? Serious question?”
“Of course,” his heart was thumping wildly against his ribcage, and he was surprised you couldn’t hear it. He was sure it would burst through any second, “go on.”
“I know this is supposed to be a…fake date,” your voice grew quiet as you drummed your fingers along the tabletop, “but what if I don’t want it to be?”
“You don’t want to go through this? I-I can take you home…”
“No, Eddie, it’s not that,” you insisted quickly as you leaned in closer to him, “what if I don’t want this to be a fake date but a real date instead?”
“Real?” he repeated as you turned your gaze away, finding it impossible to look at his face, “you want to go on a real date with me?”
“Yeah,” you chanced a look at him and he found him watching you closely, “I do, Eds. I-I didn’t mean to make this awkward so I, umm…I understand if you don’t want to-”
“I do too,” he settled his hand on top of yours, his larger one swallowing yours whole. His hand was warm and you couldn’t help but turn your hand over so his palm was touching yours, “I’ve wanted that for a long time. I didn’t think you’d ever actually want to go out with me and I figured that a fake date would be worth something.”
“I don’t even want to admit how many times I imagined asking you or you asking me on a date,” you admitted shyly, “I just didn’t think you’d ever like me.”
“What?” confusion crossed his features as his eyebrows almost shot up into his hairline. He giggled lightly and you couldn’t help but want to make him laugh like that again. You’d do anything to hear that sound, “you thought I wouldn’t like you? Now, I’ve heard it all. Seriously?”
“Don’t laugh!” you were smiling too, unabashed and excited, “you’re all cool and fun and I’m so…not.”
“You think I’m cool?” you nodded eagerly at his surprise, “I’ve got you fooled then. I happen to be a pretty big nerdy loser.”
“I guess I’m into pretty big nerdy losers,” you leaned and flipped his palm so it was facing up. You traced a finger lightly over the long lines, “is that yes then? Can we make this a real date?”
“Yeah,” he agreed readily as your face lit up, “the first of many I hope, sunshine.”
“I hope so too, Munson.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x you#joseph quinn#joseph quinn x you#joseph quinn x reader#st
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I'm not sure if you write these two, but...
Imagine Hucow Archie and Maxie. Just imagine what they'd be like, what shenanigans* they'd get up to around the farm.
*includes them fighting
Holy shit could you fucking imagine?! I already have so many things in my head.
BullFarm au! Maxie & Archie shenanigans & headcannons
Fighting? These two are always fighting so much so that slowly but surely, your boss just stopped caring about stopping them. It was futile. Even when he would separate them somehow, they would always find a way to round it. These two bowls are constantly fighting with their fists, their horns hell, even biting(archie) every time there's just muffled commotion; your boss just size Takes a cigarette out and starts smoking and begs for you to deal with it while trying to nurse a migraine he could already feel coming.
Archie starts most of the fights, but Maxie is the one that provokes Archie making him angrier. However around you they seem calm and willing to be in the same 5 ft apart from each other. They know that you hate when they fight so every time you walk around the corner they just sit there quietly glaring at each other while you're doing your work perhaps take this time to bother you instead of focusing on each other.
Before they had become residents on your farm Archie was a hybrid fighter, when people would put hybrids up against each other to fight though he was rescued he didn't seem too bad about it in fact he would eagerly tell you about his fights and accomplishments despite the horrors you have heard from the conditions hybrids would be put in.
Maxie, before he found his way to the farm was a test subject in a lab however not in the same way Colress and Volo where. Colress was genetically created and modified ; Volo was revived from one; Maxie practically grew up there where you would do all sorts of intelligence measuring and training tests perhaps as he got older the scientists retired him to a nice farm to live on. He seems to have learned a thing or two from being there.
Archie has been in so many sparring matches he has scratches and scars on his horns and all over his body which he's very eager to tell you, stories about each and every one. Well he doesn't do full on fights anymore you can happily see him sparring with the stronger Bulls and lifting heavy things trying to keep his form.
Archie is a mighty Bull but would never pick fights with anyone weaker than himself physically, even Maxie, though that quickly changes when Maxie throws insults at him. Maxie, even though he doesn't like fighting, wants to make Archie very angry. He is swift to dodge his attacks, always trying to counter them. Archie thinks he would have been an ok hybrid fighter. Maxie doesn't even want to entertain the idea.
Maxie is not much of a talker unless it's to tell random trivia about plants, ecology, and animals. Maxie is a bit of a bookworm. Most Bulls are not usually interested in human writings, but Maxie is not one of them. In fact, every time you come back to the farm from the town, he would eagerly ask you if you bought anything to read.
Maxie is obsessed with the land and the beautiful natural wonders of this world. Perhaps he had seen something in his youth that made him truly appreciate the land's Beauty. Maxie, after you gave him a new book to read, would always sit either under the shade or out in the sun, looking out into the vast field and Forest of the farm with a book in hand, taking in the fresh air.
Archie is fascinated with the ocean deaths. Something new and unexplored is filled with weird creatures, some strong, some weak. He thinks he is the most muscular Bull on the land, which makes sense since he is fascinated with sharks being the ocean's apex predators. Archie is just a bull that loves the water he seems to always know when the sprinklers come on in the fields and sneaks out there just to get a nice refreshing spray. yeah he's the reason your boss has you stand out there sometimes to watch the sprinklers go
You would think Maxie would also like the ocean because of his natural curiosity and since the sea is mostly unexplored, right? Nope he is terrified of it and he hates it so many weird bizarre and unknown creatures and places he likes the land nice and familiar he thinks most biomes in the ocean are just rocks in the sand.
Archie thinks the land is boring since humans had already explored every nook and cranny; meanwhile, the ocean has not been fully explored.
Archie loves to show off his strength by lifting farm equipment, sparing other bulls while your watching, picking you up to help you reach any thing high. He would happily lift anything for you.
Maxie reads books to you. On your breaks, you lay next to him on the soft grass as he reads you a new book you got him.
#Bullfarmau#pokemon maxie#magma boss maxie#Maxie x reader#team magma maxie#archie x reader#pokemon archie#team aqua archie#pokemon x reader#maxie pokemon#magma leader maxie
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finished Apothecary Diaries Vol #4
Holy smokes it's an absolute shame that the first two couers of the anime are likely only going to make it through the first two novels. And even the manga itself is only scratching at the start of volume 4.
It is, plain and simple, a delightfully well written narrative.
I say this as an avid reader, a sometimes writer, and a general appreciator of a well crafted story.
(Minimal spoilers through volume 4 follow)
Clues are laid down. Maomao acknowledges them by dint of being so observant, then immediately forces herself to forget them or not think too hard about them (her biggest character flaw, but obviously one that came about as sort of an instinctual survival coping mechanism in Verdigris House and later on the rear palace. No client would like a nosy little serving girl learning too much, after all.) She can recall them when she's forced to, but it's an interesting masking trait in and of itself. Feign ignorance or die.
The writer's choice of omniscient third person lets us flit from mind to mind, character to character, and know things that would otherwise have to remain a mystery. And confirm that characters live or die, even if Maomao has to stay ignorant for now. I appreciate that sense of closure.
So far, Chekov's feifa hasn't remained unfired. It's great! Vignettes that seem like cute little slice of life moments have major plot implications two volumes later. (The ghost stories chapter from Volume 2 is a fantastic example of that. Shisui's surprisingly good acting skills, plus the mystery of the organizer being dead. At first I thought it was Hyongang since she said she wanted someone to continue the tradition, but then later I was pretty sure it was the elder woman from the clinic... who wouldn't have been above having another dozen women in the gardens dead..)
I love that every character in the La family so far has their own variation of neurodivergence. Lakan with his face blindness and military savant, Lahan with his ASD number and pattern recognition, Luomen with his brilliant mind but occasional ADHD-like problems, and of course Maomao the autism queen herself. Pretty sure she got that straight from her mom, for that matter.
Anyway, I'm already chewing on volume five. I haven't binged this much on a book series in years. I'm hyperfixated to the point of tuning out reality. Glad it hit during Christmas break because I quite literally might get through all 12 volumes before New Year's Day.
I'm giving to understand that the original web novel is a hair on the darker side, and a lot of the things I'm gushing about are no doubt results of a solid editing process after the fact for the light novels.... but isn't that a good thing? There's no shame in a good clean up editor.
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𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃! 𝐑𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐨, 𝓒𝓻𝓾𝓮𝓵 𝓦𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻༄
Aired 02.02.23
Featuring music from American Football, Mitski, Panchiko, Alex G and more!
Listen on Spotify and Apple Music.
From the beginning of quarantine to my trip to New York in 2021, I went through a time in my life that felt like a perpetual winter I would never get out of. Countless nights spent on Minecraft with my friends from California and London, to the endless drives to nowhere with my friends here in Chicago. “Cruel Winter,” encapsulates the music I was listening to during that time. A digitally infused indie soundscape.
The name comes partly from a screenplay I wrote for a screenwriting class I took, and from a playlist I made with my friend Raymond, (who I met in the screenwriting class). It encapsulated this specific sound, a grey and brown with a stark baby blue between the two.
Starting of with “Brian is The Most Beautiful Boy,” the droning at the beginning takes me straight back to the beginning of the pandemic, mostly in my room playing Minecraft with my friends Jas, Ray and Alfie. I had just gotten my license as well, and sometimes I would take longer coming back from picking the lunches the school gave out for free, just to clear my mind.
“My Friends Don’t Know (I Know They Hate Me)” by dandelion hands was so popular on TikTok during this time. I loved this song and I would listen to the album “It’s All in Your Head,” over and over. It was around then the “Cruel Winter” began to settle in.
The first run of the show is called “Raymond’s Run,” I met Ray in that online screenwriting class, we became pretty good friends after the class ended, spending hours on Minecraft and Discord. He got me a cracked version of FL Studio and introduced me to a word of music I had never listened to. I can still remember the day I listened to “Deathmetal” and gushing about it to Raymond the next day. Or when Raymond showed me the cassette he wanted to buy from Subsonic Eye’s bandcamp. “Cabin Fever” reminds me of the screenplay I wrote, and the runs I would take in the mornings. Raymond is an incredibly talented guitar player, he could learn a song so quickly. I remember he learned “Beautiful Boy,” by John Lennon, on a call with me and our friend Jas, with a quick glance at the chords. He was working on a folk album around that time and he shared Nick Drake as one of his inspirations for the album. “Parasite” stuck with me.
My friend Sasha and Maya would frequently host creative zoom sessions, where we would just spend time working on whatever we wanted.
I would mostly draw, and sometimes write. While they wrote. Sasha introduced me to Car Seat Headrest around that time, and “Twin Fantasy” became an obsession. “Stop Smoking We Love You” transitions well into “Thoroughfare” by Ethel Cain, one of three songs in this set that I didn’t listen to during the pandemic. Though the lyricism encapsulates my mindset during the time. I had a desire to run to California and leave everything behind. I considered not going to college and just running to the west.
That desire was ignited by the screenwriting class I took through Academy of Arts University. There was something special about that class. Where as most zoom classes I had during the time was filled with shut off cameras. Most of the students had their cameras open and were eager to participate. We all had an instagram group chat where we would check in on each other throughout the year. I had met Raymond there and Jas through the class. Just a few weeks after the class ended we played on a Minecraft server Jas had made almost every single night. I met so many people on the server, we would talk and play for hours. I even met my friend Alfie, who’s from London, with them on a Minecraft parkour map.
Mr. Q, the teacher of the screenwriting class read a screenplay I wrote months after the class ended. (Which I plan to film later this year.) He recommended me Holy Hive sometime later. “Cynthia’s Celebration” has these beautiful drums that are just so rich and beautiful. It reminds me of the feeling I had while taking his class and those nights playing Minecraft. (Brown and a hint of orange).
“Lens” by Frank Ocean is my favorite song from Frank. I would play this song non-stop. It was my most listened song that year. It reminds me of the directionless drives I would take with my friends. Nate’s car was our go to vehicle. While me and Alonso would control the aux.
I watched “We’re All Going to The World’s Fair” with Jas and Ray.
We hated it. But the music stuck with me. Sasha had already introduced Alex G to me but his music never clicked with me until I watched this movie. “End Song” reminds me of this feeling I had in the lit of my stomach throughout the pandemic. It still hasn’t quite went away.
I had many movie nights during the pandemic. Some with my friend Sarah, others with my childhood best friend B, and others with Ixmati, Annie and Celeste. Sometimes it was spent trying not to fall asleep, and others spent trying not to wake my parents.
“Two Weeks In December” by Skull Crusher and “Secret” by Waveform* have this specific sound, like the haze that seemed to cover everything during the first few months of the quarantine.
I never really got into Mitski, but “A Pearl” had been on heavy rotation throughout the year and well into the beginning of the quarantine.
“It’s just that I fell in love with a war,
Nobody told me it ended,
and it left a pearl in my head,
and I roll it every night
just to watch it glow.”
I hate to admit I romanticized the first few months of quarantine and I often find myself looking back. I can’t help to smile. Even though it felt like the world was ending, I didn’t feel alone.
My “Cruel Winter” felt like it was nearing it’s end when I listened to “A Lot’s Going To Change” by Weyes Blood. I was graduating high school. I so badly wanted to go back to how it had been before. I was so afraid of what came after. It was during this time where the pandemic was in limbo. The cases had spiked again and everything was in limbo.
American Football was a band I listened to throughout my dive into the lesser known indie artists, at least from my perspective. The perpetual winter ended at the end of summer ‘21. Right before a solo trip to New York with my friends Alonso and Dario. (Or so I thought).
The final run of the set is made up of three songs. “Wintertime” by Brockhampton, “4sure” by Louke Man, and “Thank You Song” by FKA Twigs
“Wintertime” is an unreleased song that was leaked along with the Technical Difficulties tracks Brockhampton did over the quarantine. The songs were on heavy rotation when I would drive. “Wintertime” was the inspiration for my screenplay I wrote during that online class. It was a big idea condensed into a 7 page script if I remember correctly. A fitting metaphor to the big ideas I had during the pandemic but with little outlet to do them.
The last two songs serve as a thank you, to all those friends that helped me get through my “Cruel Winter”, and even though it came back not long after my trip to New York. These people helped me get through it.
Special thanks to Aaron, Alfie, Alonso, Anna, B, Celeste, Daisy., Dario, Erin, Iris, Ixmati, Jas, Marcus, Maya, Mr. Q, Nate, Raymond, Sarah, Sasha, The Screenwriting Guild, and TJ. Even though I couldn’t mention everyone and everything we did together, I am grateful for the memories we made together.
#mitski#fka twigs#ethel cain#brockhampton#louke man#memo boy#dandelion hands#panchiko#nick drake#car seat headrest#holy hive#frank ocean#alex g#skullcrusher#waveform#american football#winter#wintertime#blog#music#playlist#quarentine#pandemic#screenwriting#internet radio#radio#college radio#friends
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favorite lines from "THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT"
your wife waters flowers, i want to kill her
All my mornings are monday stuck in an endless february
but you're in self-sabotage mode, throwing spikes down the road
we're modern idiots
You smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate
i scratch your head, you fall asleep, like a tattooed golden retriever
sometimes i wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me, but you told lucy you'd kill yourself if I ever leave
'cause it fit too right, puzzle pieces in the dead of night, I shouldve known it was a matter of time
'cause i knew too much, there was danger in the heat of my touch, he saw forever so he smashed it up
did you really beam me up?, in a cloud of sparkling dust, just to do experiments on, tell me I was the chosen one, showed me that this world is bigger than us, then sent me back where I came from
now im down bad crying at the gym, everything comes out teenage petulance, "fuck it if I cant have him", "I might just die, it would make no difference"
how dare you think its romantic, leaving me safe and stranded
my spine split from carrying us up to the hill, wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill
thinking how much sad did you think I had, did you think I had in me? oh the tragedy
i stopped cpr, after all its no use
two graves, one gun, ill find someone
you swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? i died on the alter waiting for the proof
i just learned these people try and save you 'cause they hate you
id rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitchin' and moanin', ill tell you something 'bout my good name, its mine along with all the disgrace, I don't cater to all these vipers dressed in empire's clothing
there's a lot of people in town that I bestow upon my fakest smiles
my friends tried, but i wouldn't hear it, watched me daily disappearing, for just one glimse of his smile
another summer, taking cover, rolling thunder, he doesnt understand me, splintered back in winter, silent dinners, bitter, he was with her in dreams
little did you know you home's really only a town youre just a guest in
florida, is one hell of a drug, florida, can I use you up?
little did you know your home's really only the town youll get arrested, so pack your life away just to wait out the shitstorm back in texas
i need to forget, so take me to florida, ive got some regrets, ill bury them in florida, tell me I'm despicable, say its unforgivable, at least the dolls are beautiful, fuck me up, florida
go on, fuck me up
this cage was once just fine, am i allowed to cry?
what if hes written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?
these fatal fantasie given way to laboured breath taking all of me, weve already done in my head
what if the way you hold me is actually whats holy?
they dont know how youve haunted me so stunningly, i choose you and me, religiously
if you wanted me dead you shouldve just said
crash the party like a record crash as i scream, "whos afraid of little old me?", you should be
i wanna snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me, you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me
you caged me and then you called me crazy, i am what i am 'cause you trained me, so whos afraid of me?
they shake their heads saying, "god, help her" when i tell 'em hes my man
ill show you heaven if youll be an angel, all mine
whoa, maybe i cant
i thought i was better safe than starry-eyed
if you know it in one glimpse, its legendary, you and i go from one kiss to getting married
you shit-talked me under the table, talking rings and talking cradles, i wish i could unrecall, how we almost had it all
youre the loss of my life
the lights refract sequin stars off her silhouette every night, i can show you lies
'cause im a real tough kid, i can handle my shit, they said "babe, you gotta fake it till you make it" and i did
lights, camera, bitch, smile, even when you wanna die
im so depressed, i act like its my birthday everday
'cause im miserable (haha), and nobody even knows, try and come for my job
and i dont even want you back, i just want to know, if rusting my sparking summer was the goal
you didnt measure up in any measure of a man
in fifty years will all this be declassifed?, and ill say, "good riddance"
i wouldve died for youre sins, instead i just died inside
so when i touch down, call the amateurs and cut 'em from the team
'cause the sign on your heart said its still reserved for me, honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?
he jokes that "its heroin, but this time with an E"
you look like clara bow
this town is fake but youre the real thing, breath of fresh ait through smoke rings
the crowd goes wild at her fingertip, half moon shine, a full eclipse
youre the new god were worshipping, promise to be dazzling
beauty is a beast that roars down on all fours demanding more
you look like taylor swift, in this light, were loving it, youve got edge, she never did, the futures bright, dazzling
#taylor swift#taylornation#the tortured poets department#ttpd#taylor swift ttpd#ts ttpd#ttpd era#ttpd spoilers#fornight#my boy only breaks his favourite toys#down bad#so long london#but daddy i love him#fresh out the slammer#florida!!!#i can fix him (no really i can)#loml#icdiwabh#the smallest man who ever lived#the alchemy#clara bow#soups in her ttpd era (bear with her)
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GAHHH OH MY GOD OKAY OKAY first of all holy smokes I love the theme on your blog so much it's so cool and the red is just,,, chefs kiss oh man💗💗🥹!!
OKAY AJAJA would it be alright if I asked for a matchup for Spiderverse (either of the other fandoms work if they're easier/more fun to work with!! I love all of the fandoms there as well ajajja) :O??<3 please take as long as you need with it!!💗🙏
my persona:
name: ellie :D
personality: ENFP/ENTP (but E and I are bound to change depending on how I'm feeling while taking the test BWAHSHSHD so here's another description!!): I'm a generally optimistic person with the sense of humor of an eight year old boy. I will laugh at your mom jokes and then apologize and then make another one😭 I enjoy helping people and creating things, but I do tend to question my morals a lot and wonder why I am helping those people !! I really like the idea of self-improvement and knowing there's always room for more :D reminders are always great too because I forget a lot of things SJDBSJSJHS
zodiac sign: aries!
ideal type: i'm okay with being paired with any gender, no preference! i'm also a minor/highschool student if that helps at all :D (i'm totally on board with platonic matchups as well, i'm unlabeled so for me i can roll along w just about anything!! whatever is easiest GAARAHH). i really admire people who are kind at heart, it doesn't matter how they show it :D i admire people who are humble but not meek, and are willing to speak their minds when it feels right to them OH MAN and I also love people who i can go on and have deep talks with them and fall asleep next to them giggling like im 7 years old at a sleepover every night. OH AJDJSJ and I also love watching shows meant For Literal Children/cartoons because I find them genuinely hilarious and the lessons are always so good 😭🙏 creativity is important to me as well + education for passions :D my giving love language is words of affirmation and physical touch, and my main receiving is acts of service and physical touch! :D
my favorite trope: SHDHDJDJ FOUND FAMILY FOUND FAMILY FOUND FAMILY or any forms of domestic fluff!! 💗💗(sharing a bed and hurt/comfort and being held after a nightmare is my JAM BWAHHS)
favorite season: autumn :)))
hobbies: I absolutely love biology/biomed/environmental science :D! I love going to aquariums and (art) museums and learning about my passions. i definitely want to work at an aquarium as one of those people who give tours to the 3rd graders one day 🥰🙏 I also love listening to instrumental scores from movies!! (I CRIED OVER THE ONES FROM ATSV I AM UNWELL) how to train your dragon and big hero 6 are definitely up there as a few of my favorites :D oh man I also love performing and doing musical theatre for the sake of the community WAHHHSJ,, I love art and writing even though I can get pretty bad writer's block AND OH MAN I love tutoring a lot and going on bike rides when I'm alone !! I love hanging out w people but I also value my alone time as well, and soMETIMES (I AM WORKING ON IT SJXJSJ) I tend to become a doormat where i can't say no and worry about how I am in public places (bUT I HAVE NO PROBLEM DOING PRESENTATIONS WHICH I FIND HILARIOUS SJXNSKJD), but again I SWEAR I am working on it !! =D💗
and the fandom for spider verse would be great :D!! but again anything else is totally okay!!!
OKAHXHSJD IM SO SORRY I WROTE SO MUCH PLEASE DO NOT STRESS YOURSELF OUt ABOUT IT I ALSO THINK YOUR WRITING IS VERY NEAT AND I LIKE IT VERY MUCH AND I AM DEFINITELY GOING TO READ MORE BECAUSE THE STARS W AKAASHI MADE ME MELT. okay that is all have a wonderful day!!! 😭🙏🙏🙏💗💗 take good care of yourself and make sure to sleep well :D!
HONEYMOON MATCHUP WITH : HOBIE BROWN
— honeymoon :
– hobie thinks it's a little funny, honestly, how things turned out with you — the two of you are almost polar opposites, but you know what they say ; opposites attract, and you were his missing puzzle piece — hobie didn't like labels, but there was no denying that he certainly had a thing for you, and you couldn't deny that you liked him either, so you settled in middle ground.
– hobie would come to your place every night — that's how it started, you'd watch a movie or two and once the clock strikes midnight, you find yourself laying in bed with him, huddled up in his arms with your head resting on his chest and his face buried in your hair, the two of you talk about alot of stuff, jumping from one topic to another about completely unrelated things — he likes listening to you talk, likes the sound of your voice and how it immediately soothes him into a good mood — but once the clock nears five am, and you start mumbling and tripping on your words and your eyelids become heavy, he places a soft kiss on your lips, telling you it's time for bed before holding you close and the two of you eventually fall asleep.
– hobie has a knack to convincing you to do things you wouldn't usually do, like going out with him at three am on a supposed 'date' where he takes you to one of the city's highest rooftops with a couple of snacks and the radio playing your favourite songs, he likes to draw and often brings his sketchbook to those dates, so the two of you doodle on the pages, slapping stickers on them and creating a perpetual memory, and he thinks — actually, believes, that no matter what, he'd never forget you, and he has reached a conclusion that maybe, just maybe, he may be in love with you.
— what's on the radio : moonlight, kali uchis
a/n : hello??? kirishimas-manly-eyeliner ?? 😭😭 i used to follow you, i loved your blog sm and you were legit one of my inspirations to write 😭😭 i didn't know you were aware of my blog holy shit, i love you so much 😭 thank you for the request and your ask was so much fun to read like shejwkwk, you're such a nice person help 😭 thank you sm for the request again, ily — also atsv was so good, i cried alot during the moving so you aren't alone, and i loved hobie's animation ! i loved the way they colored him and how he looked like he was out of a panel and the way he changed colors (??) it was so good, he's one of my faves pls 😭 i hope this did you justice and that you like it ! once again thank you sm for the request <33
#bro your old blog was elite i loved it sm#your posts always popped up on my dash and they always made me laugh like sheiejekso#youre an inspiration my man#you have such good vibes too ily#honeymoon match up event#1k event matchup#1k milestone#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderverse#atsv hobie brown#atsv headcanons#atsv matchups
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Top!Calum Masterlist
Bass and Drums (ao3) - boomercal
Calum/Ashton, Michael/Crystal, Sierra/Luke
E, 70k
Summary: [Sequel to The Bass Player]
Calum and Ashton just went public with their relationship, but they might have left a few things out, like how long they've been together and how it happened. But that's beside the point; Calum's trying to navigate social media, being allowed to hold his boyfriend's hand and the blurry lines between friendship and something more.
Birthday Cake (ao3) - im_just_a_sucker_for_bromance
Luke/Calum
E, 2k
Summary: Birfffday Cake
It’s Luke’s birthday and Calum decides to make it special.
Endlessly (ao3) - pxnkspace
Luke/Calum
M, 3k
Summary: Calum and Luke have been together for almost five years now and Calum just wants to show Luke that he is the right guy for him.
for you are not beside but within me (ao3) - elysianhood
Luke/Calum
E, 11k
Summary: Calum pulled Luke up with his blonde locks by his right hand and wrapped his left tightly around his throat, restricting his airway, and leaned in close to the teary blue eyes, hissing threateningly, ‘You never – ever – speak to me like that ever again, you filthy slut. Ever. You don’t fucking tell me what to do. You’re just a fucktoy, remember? A dirty, fucking whore. That’s all you’ll ever be.’
or; Luke was a bad boy and Calum isn’t happy.
Grabby Hands (ao3) - antisocialhood
Calum/Ashton, Michael/Luke/Ashton
N/R, 7k
Summary: Ashton likes wearing big sweaters, curling up with his daddy and sucking him off while they watch TV, and sometimes Calum likes to treat his princess to something special.
I Only Wanna Talk (ao3) - dafeedil
Michael/Calum
E, 16k
Summary: He thinks it should feel wrong, kissing Calum here in the dark, when the thousand dollars he paid to have this is sitting neatly in its envelope just feet away. But it doesn’t feel wrong, not at all. In fact, it feels unnatural not to be kissing Calum.
Or, more simply, Michael falls in love with a prostitute.
I’ve Seen My Neighbor Naked (ao3) - orphan_account
Luke/Calum, Michael/Luke, Luke/Ashton
E, 18k
Summary: Luke is a porn star. Michael runs across two videos of him with Ashton and Calum two really famous porn stars. When said boy moves into the house next door will feels come out?
I Wanna Make You Feel Good (ao3) - boomercal
Calum/Ashton
E, 3k
Summary: Calum and Ashton just go together and they're trying to figure out where they stand and are learning things about one another. Some of those things make Calum horny.
like a prayer (for which no words exist) (ao3) - satellitesunset (awkwardcaterpillar)
OT4
E, 2k
Summary: It's overwhelming, being kissed, grazed, and revered in a manner not unlike worshipping like he's something divine and holy, someone worth praising and devoting to, he's both the saint and sinner, the painting and temple being venerated.
-
or ashton-centric ot4 gang bang
Looking In Your Eyes And They’re Burning Fire (ao3) - fourdrunksluts
Luke/Calum
E, 8k
Summary: Luke doesn’t think he’s very good at sex, so Calum helps him practice, and maybe learns a few things along the way.
Midnight Memories (ao3) - im_just_a_sucker_for_bromance
michael/calum
E, 3k
Summary: It was Calum’s birthday and Michael wanted to be the first one to wish him. He also decided to wish him in a different way. In a different way meant in a way that Calum would not expecting. To carry his plan out, he got a few stuffs of his own that he was impatient to try.
No Equipment Required (ao3) - onlypanda
Luke/Calum
E, 3k
Summary: “We still gotta get a workout in,” Calum huffs.
“I’m pretty sure this will count,” Luke shoots back.
Taking Turns (ao3) - sonofneverland
Calum/Ashton
M, 1k
Summary: Boyfriend's Ashton and Calum try switching things up in the bedroom.
This Night, This High (ao3) - valiantnerd (arareads)
Calum/Ashton
E, 5k
Summary: He could stay in this moment forever. With nothing but the chill evening breeze coaxing the smoke away and the vast silence that only he breaks with every breath. Minutes go by, slow and thick, and he sinks into them like a warm bath.
Here, in the cabins, the rush can’t reach him.
Or, Calum and Ashton make the most of the nights at the cabin.
you drape your wrists over the steering wheel (ao3) - spaces
Luke/Calum
M, 2k
Summary: the one where calum and luke have sex. in a car.
#5sosfanfictioncatalogue#5sos fanfic#calum hood#top!calum#top!calum masterlist#masterlists#smut#sex tw
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Anonymous asked...
Your Bruce Banner is BRILLIANT.
Click here to send me something!
Sorry for taking so long to respond to this! I've been going back and forth on what to say, because it was so nice to see this in my inbox, and I wanted to reply properly. I'm not an innately confident writer, and because of the chilly reception that adaptations like this usually get on tumblr, there are often occasions where I wonder if I'm writing Bruce well. Sometimes my assurance disappears. But messages like yours are super encouraging, so thank you.
I've been writing for a long time. I've had one or two things published, but nothing substantial, and certainly not novellas or novels. I remember when I first took a real interest in writing stories, and my characters were absolutely terrible, haha. My first original character was based on a book for young readers about dragons (who could assume human form) and people. In this book, there was a teen girl who had dragon wings. I can't remember the name of the book, but I used like 90% of the character's traits for my first OC, and I didn't really put much thought into it beyond this. Call it a product of me being ten years old, but the OC was goofy and corny, and my writing was beyond dramatic, holy smokes... But at least it formed a great foundation for what not to do, moving forward.
When I was in high school, I took an immediate liking to English class. Digging into media and writing essays was very enjoyable for me! Some of the material felt too simplistic, like a deeper meaning couldn't be derived from it, but I still really loved looking for metaphors and nuance in different texts, and devising different ways to present my findings, and sometimes bullshit them from scratch. I jumped headfirst into AP English soon after that. I particularly remember the assignments for Kafka's "The Metamorphosis", and Swift's "A Modest Proposal", which were pretty strange and surreal texts, but they were fascinating!
(That is the kind of literature I love to encounter. Things that are "out there", that make you think, that have something to say about certain topics, and that leave a lasting impression.)
During this time, I picked up a few other OCs, including some that were inspired by my lucid dreams and the film "Avatar" (2008). I also loved analyzing and discussing films that I'd watched, and I became more and more interested in "character study bait" films, including "Hunger" (2008), "Taxi Driver" (1976), and "American Psycho" (2000). The more focus that a film had on a character, the more I liked exploring it and looking for details. "Breaking Bad" was absolutely captivating to me because of all the colour palette and script choices. And certain characters jumped out at me as well, such as Jesse Pinkman, Wikus Van De Merwe, Tony Stark, and Jake Sulley, who all received varying amounts of attention in fics.
Bruce Banner was another character who really stood out, when I finally decided to give him a chance. My first exposure to him was "The Incredible Hulk" (2008), and even after that single film and its somewhat anemic script, I noticed there was a lot going on with him, and I wanted to explore it. It helped that he was a science fiction character too, because that is my favourite genre, and that I'd always been a sucker for werewolf and monster tropes. I hadn't even gotten into the comics yet or learned about his family life (that happened shortly before I graduated), but I was already so invested in him! And it snowballed from there.
I think it's the combination of my keen interest in Bruce and my love for analysis that has resulted in this portrayal. It's not everyone's cup of tea, but I like to think he's still recognizable, and he is very much the same character. He was simply given different options from canon, and he's developed accordingly. But he's never wandered too far from his roots. Everything about this portrayal can be traced back to something I've seen, somewhere, in canon.
I'm also deeply proud of my decision to make this portrayal exceptionally self-aware about the psychology of trauma. I put a very heavy emphasis on how trauma informs someone's decisions throughout their life, which canon has rarely bothered to dissect (the comics on occasion, and the Marvel Cinematic Universe only like, once). I've said it before, but Bruce is often depicted and handwaved as "yet another superhero" and is often dumped into the "superhero genre", which is conflated with formulaic, flashy popcorn flicks. I try to write him deeper than that, and more well-rounded. I've never been a fan of shying away from gritty, dark, or personal shit, because it can often be very revealing and insightful, especially for a character like Bruce. I also feel like this makes him a more accessible character to someone who doesn't necessarily like the MCU or Marvel. If all of the "bam, pow, superheroes and capes and high stakes" stuff takes a break, and the painfully human aspects can shine through more, it humanizes him that much more. I think that's part of the reason the television show and Ruffalo's performance in "The Avengers" was so well-received.
(But this is all just my opinion.)
So thanks again, anonymous! I'm really happy to hear you like the direction I've taken him.
I have many other messages in my inbox, including some old ask memes. I'm slowly working through them. Thanks for your patience, everyone.
#( out of control. )#( answered. )#anonymous#thanks for sending this! and sorry for the insanely long delay. 💖#that dragon book was my favourite thing as a kid... on top of the warrior cats series.#i also remember when i was back in junior school... my friend and i always pretended to be dragons.#we hid under our desks and snarled and roared at each other lmao. in front of all our classmates.#we would also play on neopets during class on the shitty school laptops. the ones with the nubbins instead of touchpads.#it was awesome. and embarrassing but i have no regrets.#this friend was also the person who got me into warriors.#it's funny to think that series is reviled on tumblr because it has 'bad things' in it...#because when i was a kid? i had zero problems with it. i wasn't impressed upon by the 'bad stuff' at all lol.#but yeah that is my commentary on silly tumblr shenanigans for the day.
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Holy cow…
So uh..remember two years ago when I did my whole overview of my 2020 year and I said I have object permanence & memory issues? Yeah…I forgot about this place. I should really dust off the cobwebs (not the ones for decoration of course) and maybe share some life updates?
It’s 2024 and I’m really done with being a working adult in a place that actively keeps its people from actually living versus doing their best to make it. Like homie is barely treading water I need a dang break.
Other than that:
-my oldest cat nearly died and is now very much so getting the Princess treatment even more than she already did.
- I have mostly come out as Non Binary..my parents and the parents of my partner will not be learning this fact anytime soon.
-We got a fourth cat because we figured that our third cat needed a playmate as the oldest two want zero playtime with him..the youngest is a lovable terror and is nearly a year old and bigger than his immediately older brother.
- I got a promotion…but I’d like to find a job that was more regular and hours that don’t make me want to cry. (I just want to not work weekends if I don’t want to. Is that so much?!)
- I went to a casino for the first time. Here is my review:
• if you offer inside, casino floor smoking your ventilation needs to be top class. Not everyone that wants to visit your casino floor wants to smell like smoke. ( I don’t care if ppl smoke. That’s your business, however the people around you that are not smoking should not have to also be inhaling your smoke. That’s across the board for any kind of smoking. imho)
• write your menus better aka: explain your menu items better don’t say “steak sandwich” and then be like “steak, cheese, [insert veggies here], on X bread” then douse it in herb butter, ADD THAT TO THE MENU! PEOPLE LOVE THAT SHIT!
your valets and front desk attendants shouldn’t be the only good customer service a guest experiences. (For reference I work in a customer facing position and have been doing this for an over all of 15 years so I’m not just talking out my ass about customer service also this is the US so I know customer service culture is different here..but that’s a different soapbox)
Did I win anything? Nope just the need to bag any of my clothes that saw the casino floor and then also bag them again as the smell was wretched and cigarette smoke causes migraine in me now. (Yay new migraine trigger..experienced that night one stayed in a mask the entire time I walked through the floor. )
Will I go again? Probably not. The food was nice but I can also drive an hour east and have the same experience minus the gambling. (Also learned that it’s not something I enjoy.)
Will I be saying the name of this casino? Nope.
- my mental health has been a seesaw since June of 2023 so I’ve been also dealing with that. I’m much better than I was but I’m also not where I was before the decline. Frustrating but sometimes that’s just how it is. (Also I don’t want to cease existence much anymore..so that’s good. There were a few times towards Aug-Dec that in the dark of night I wanted to just stop, but I’m in a better headspace now and some of the outside forces that helped the self destructive feelings are gone/changing so I’m feeling much more hopeful and haven’t felt self destructive since the first week of December. So yay progress?)
- I got my ears repierced (I think that was 2022 though..) and now I can get all the pretty earrings I want. (Gives me serotonin)
- im planing about five (maybe six) more tattoos and at least two of them are anime adjacent.
- I cut my hair, felt good about it for a while and now I’m just over it.
- got a binder and I love it. Now to get a better one because it makes my brain goblins shut up about my self image more. (I don’t match my mental image and it’s hard to look at my body from collar bones down. I’m working on it and slowly getting better with it. )
- realized part way through last year I was doing some really unhealthy eating related stuff and now trying to be better about eating meals - even if it’s small. Eating something is better than not eating. This isn’t the first time in my life I’ve done this, it’s just been a long time since its last happened. I’d like to for it to not happen again.. (I should probably mention this to my therapist..)
- I got to see a group,a duo, and a soloist all I love and all in 2023 also all with two of my best friends.
- got a tattoo with one of my best friends, and planning two more. (Gotta find the right artist first!)
Oh, and I’ve been reading a metric heckton of fan fiction..it’s escapism at its finest.
All in all 2023 was a mixed bag and I truly hope 2024 is the year I am desperately hoping for.
Here’s to 2024, manifesting the things I want, the things I need, and the things that I need to have.
Just Survive Somehow.
#lostmoonbunny#life update#no I totally didn’t forget this place#I’m not meant for casinos#fanfic keeps me sane#yes my cat broke my stovetop yes im upset no I cant afford a new one#cats#just survive somehow
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October 9, 2023
Right now I am currently living with my ex- boyfriend and that is a whole different story in itself as well. Last night his "bestfriend" came by named Hunter that works at Walmart in Gretna that is also affiliated with the Marines as well and married with a child. He came over called me a crack head while coming over to smoke the "sage" {code name for a plant} * Can't trust everyone on the screen especially when people steal other stories for themselves. Well last night I did my study in the book of Psalms because I like taking the verse of each number and try drawing a picture to the best of my heart and ability to match the verse using symbolism because the faith i hold is different than traditional, biased evil religion ways of things. I always hand write my stories sometimes as well because writing is a very rough field I do it because my life has alot of wisdom and a huge past as well to explain as well so I type , write in small sections for my mental overload sake. Its hard to find a job right now because alot of jobs are making it mandatory to get the Covid 19 vaccine and that shit is scary.
Well yesterday while them two were chilling. I always learned to stay in a woman's place, although we live in a time where women are still equal to men except for our voice, right and pay. Well I read Psalms 1: 1-6
"Blessed is the an who does not walk in counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners. Or sit in the seat of the mockers. But his delight is the law of the Lord, and on his law he mediates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields in fruits in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers. Not so the wicked! They are like chaff that the wind blows away. Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgement nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous but the way of the wicked will perish."
***Now this post is not meant to target or make anyone feel outcasted because of it being a religious text from the bible because the word "bible" is another word for book as well. I am an open minded person. I use the book for reference in learning different ways of looking into wisdom. I am only 24 years old.
The perspective that I quoted from how i seen this message reading it when I needed too
" Anyone can place themselves as a leader or as a "God" but in truth your boundaries mentally and spiritually play a big key role to self love and guidance. "
Which later yesterday lead into Psalms 2: 1-12 [I don't copy and paste either}
*This Psalms as well also talks about what is kind of going on today in the world s well. I normally don't get in the book because there are alot of things in the books I personally don't believe in or see eye to eye , but nor do i question them. Sometimes it helps me see above the water when it feels like my soul is drowning.
"Who do the nations conspire the people plot in vain? The kings of the earth take their stand and the rulers gather together against the Lord and against his annointed one. "Let us break their chains." they say. " and throw off their fetter." The one enthroned on heaven laughs; the Lord scoffs at them. The he rebukes them in his anger and terrifies them in his wrath, saying, " I have installed my King on Zion, my holy hill." I will proclaim the decree of the Lord: He said to me ," you are my son ; today I have become your Father. Ask of me, and I will make the nations your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession. You rule them with an iron scepter; you will dash them to pieces like pottery." Therefore, you kings, be wise; be warned, you rulers of the earth. Serve the Lord with fear and rejoice with trembling (could also means a form of dance as well) Kiss the Son, lest he be angry and you be destroyed in your way, for his wrath can flare up in a moment. Blessed are all who take refuge in him."
The world "earth" will always go into these steps as life goes on no matter what year, nation, color, race, or sex you are its all done by a governmental one world money system that is done through the trades and the conversations that take place at the pentagon as well. The anger the "Lord has is an everyday thing that is a repetitive way of life. There are some nations that never heard of "God" there are some places that doesn't have resources to be able to teach the word of God.
Makes me sick how they have commercials that use 3rd world countries that doesn't even have access to basics as charity with a 100,000 camera in their hand but they can't bring what those people might need. Those are the aspects that makes me angry with how our system is ran and how the "bible " is used.
I believe in God very strong and even have gifts. This is just a shared post as I am pointing out a view on things.
#faith #love #book #reading #God #rap
Also being a rap artist and speaking and also reading the entire bible a few times there is one thing that will never change for me.
You can believe in God and still do music. Artists are not at fault for how the crowd precieves the music. Its taught that rap music teaches killing, immoral beliefs, drugs, etc. That it has part in I will say but in truth its a way of getting expression out of one's mind and letting it out into a narration.
Rap music shouldn't be used for police when they are bored and wanting to fill names. #music #louisiana #texas #california #mississippi #Newjersey #israel #life #love #honesty #writer #blogger
#inspiraton #outlook #POV #pointofview #honesty #speakup
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is it possible that you can write romantic headcanons for being in a poly relationship with andre and myc from inside job 🥺 i love them both and if youre not comfortable with this request maybe just headcanons for them individually? thank you so much!
YESYESYES .
I wanna date them so bad guys
- gotta ask how you even started dating these morons because oh my god 😭 the only explanation I got is working with them and y’all all catch feelings and myc finds out and is like “yo so we all like each other aha” or just threesome but y’all caught feelings and myc finds out and is like “yo so we all like each other aha”
- but anyways dating them is a fucking blast holy shit. Especially if you work together, you three are together at all times just fucking around during missions and shit while your stupid boyfriends flirt with eachother and you. Reagan is so fucking tired of you guys.
- also both are clingy as shit so this really helps tbh, the three of you are attached at the hip
- andres new to the whole commitment thing so don’t mind him, he’s pretty scared of this at first but thankfully mycs been alive for how many god damn years and has had how many relationships? Mycs been down this road.
- sex is very often . Unless your ace they can fuck eachother but <3 dw tho they’re very sweet afterwards
- I think a problem that could occur is feeling like “oh I only matter to them bc I’m a sex doll to them aha”so that’s why they’re pretty sweet afterwards cuz they kinda .. thought of this.. they just have sex a lot with you because they don’t know how to be intimate otherwise but they r learning
- smoking with them and getting drunk/high if you’re comfortable? Yes. All the time. If not, also totally fine but yk <33!
- but this is one of the healthiest poly relationships you get because the two don’t really argue and get along really well tbh they’re just attention whores sometimes
- so like andre will make you laugh with a joke and of course myc has to one up him and it becomes a thing but they never genuinely argue . U are still dating children tho wtf
- did you not find fart and dick jokes funny before? You do now .
- they’re absolutely ridiculous in the best way
- Andre loves to cuddle, but myc might act like he doesn’t wanna (he really wants to tho) just takes some convincing :) <3
- anyways they’re both so caring like myc is so clingy so obviously he touches you a lot so he’s gonna find out whenever you’re in a shitty mood and he is so quick to be like “honey what’s wrong? Who do we need to take it out on? Or do you wanna just chug beers?” and is so quick to tell Andre
- and Andre is so doting omg 😭 he’s just like “baby honey darling sugar light of my life the reason I am alive what is wrong?” and myc wants to puke ftm that sentence alone
- also whenever Reagan is being mean myc is just like “hey well y/n doesn’t think I’m a dick! Right honeyyy~”
- they both always try to make you laugh <3
- myc secretly just thinks you look great happy . He is a bit of a #softie
- but for real these two are the best to chill out with and joke around with, and they’re such quality boyfriends to have. They’re not perfect but they’re always improving
#myc x reader#magic myc x reader#Andre Lee x reader#Andre x reader#inside job x reader#inside job andre x reader#inside job myc x reader#inside job andre Lee x reader
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bad behavior | jjk | m
This is in the same universe as “bad influence.” It can, however, be read as a stand-alone.
— summary; in which staying late to volunteer at a self-help meeting was the best decision you made in a while.
— contents and warnings; smut, the endless adventures of badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, public sex (in a church…), dirty talk, fingering, degradation (name calling) but also praise, unprotected sex, clothed sex, creampie, cum play, there is a window and also reflections, rough sex, cockwarming, jk being a lil shit because that’s his main personality trait, jk smokes (only mentioned), enemies to fuckbuddies: dawn of the first day
— words; 8.2k
— author’s note; for the anon that asked how their first time was like ;) join me as we explore the lore of this godforsaken couple
It was your mother’s idea for you to find a new place to volunteer. According to her, it had been a long time since you experienced “the invigorating energy of community work” — last time was when you were trying to level up your college application — and it could really “soothe your anxious soul” during the trying times of college finals. Apparently one tutoring program and two research projects weren’t enough to distract you, but you could see where she was coming from.
In the end, you accepted. The old places you used to volunteer in had either shut off their programs or were just too far away from college for you to consider. At first, you decided to follow your mother’s suggestion and tried to work with children — “small miracles”, as she called them — in a local daycare. Which ended up being a terrible idea.
You liked giving back to the community, you really did, but it wasn’t long until you realized that working with infants hasn’t been your wisest decision, and that children weren’t miracles at all. You got tired of going home covered in paint and with pieces of playdough entangled in your hair, and that was when you weren’t unlucky enough to get hit with other, less clean fluids.
So you eventually gave up — both on the daycare and on the faint idea of one day going into pediatrics — and searched for a new place. After having to yell your way through retirement homes, and getting fed up with washing people’s sidewalks, you finally settled in a program that was flexible and light enough for your intense college hours: preparing (and then later cleaning up) a room that was reserved in a local church for weekly meetings.
The entire ordeal took about two to three hours off your day, and more than half of it was spent as free time: waiting for the meeting to end, cramming piles of information in a small room next door. You didn’t really know what the meetings were about since they changed practically every month — they were, at first, a support group for teenage mothers, then it became an AA meeting, then a group for drug users trying to quit. Lately, you were starting to think that the church just gave away the room for whoever had the money to rent it, so it wasn’t a surprise when it was reserved for a motivational speaker to give confidence lessons.
You had researched the guy, some old dude with an unpronounceable name and a sketchy background, and found exactly the type of person you had expected. Yes, you were in the house of Christ, but you were still being heavily judgmental of the fact that he was giving those talks when he had no qualifications whatsoever, and was probably making bank off all the self-help books he regurgitated at least twice a year to prey on vulnerable people. You did share your worries with the administrative office of the church, but they ultimately fell on deaf ears, and you gave up on the idea of kicking his ass out of the holy grounds anytime soon.
It was after one of those pseudo-motivational talks that you walked into the empty room, ready to clean everything up before rushing back to your place, where your roommate had promised to greet you with some wonderful takeout. The chairs were still placed in a circle on the center of the room, where they had been since forever, and you made sure to align them perfectly before you moved on to the litter that had been thrown around the place.
One good thing about those self-help meetings was that they were a lot cleaner than a lot of other attendees, so the “picking up the trash until your back started to hurt” part passed by surprisingly fast. You had just moved on to the snack table, analyzing what you could still save, when your soul almost left your body.
“Hey, you,” you heard a known voice behind you. “What are you doing in here?”
You swiftly turned around, heart thumping violently against your ribcage. You didn’t know how you hadn’t let out the biggest, most blood-curdling scream ever, but that was just the first of many miracles of the night. “Jesus Christ,” you wheezed out, taking one hand to your chest. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like this.” You swallowed dry, some part of your brain recalling that he had asked you a question. “And I’m volunteering here.”
“I didn’t sneak up on you, you’re just jumpy.” Jungkook scoffed, leaning against the doorframe with that stupid playful smirk curling up on his lips. You didn’t know they allowed demons inside the church. “And of course you are.” He rolled his eyes.
Maybe a few months back, his mocking tone would’ve stung a bit more. However, you had been tutoring Jungkook for about three months then, suffering through endless sessions of his whining and complaining, and you’ve grown used to his passive-aggressive antics already. You learned that Jungkook was a shark seeking for blood, waiting for any crack that would allow him to jump into a perverse little joke — about how you behaved, your priorities, or even the color of your highlighter. You, of course, always stood your ground and threw his comments right back at him — which was his initial plan, as you’ve come to realize. Jungkook enjoyed playfully arguing with you, and you thought that it was another level of strangeness and masochism you simply didn’t have time to dissect.
Still, Jungkook (shockingly) wasn’t the terrible person you once thought he was. Every once in a while — when he was trying to talk you out of teaching him — the conversations you two would have were actually mostly pleasant, and he wasn’t awful to hang around when he dropped the whole badass persona to act like a real human being. You would even dare to say that Jungkook could be actually funny at times, and not in the bitter, sarcastic way he usually was. Sometimes, you dared to think, he could actually be reasonably nice. And also kind of cute. Even hot.
But you would never actually admit any of that out loud. Or even to yourself, really.
“And you?” You asked, turning back around to face the table full of half-eaten food. That looked like a battlefield, and you could already tell that there were only a few survivors left standing. “What are you doing here? Repenting?”
Jungkook chuckled dryly. “You wish. My parents want me to quit smoking,” he said. You could not see him, but you could hear him walking closer to you as you fumbled with the large Tupperware. “We settled on this crap instead of a forced intervention.”
You scoffed. Most of the food before you was unsalvageable — some of the cupcakes had been bitten once and then placed back, and you wondered how someone like that could function in society. “You don’t seem very motivated to quit,” you mumbled.
Jungkook clicked his tongue. “I don’t really care.”
His voice was much closer to you, and you felt the air leaving your lungs for a pitiful instant. You convinced yourself you had only gotten scared again. “You should care about the growing possibility of lung cancer.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s not really on the top of my list of priorities at the moment.”
“And what is?” You asked.
“Amongst other things…” he trailed off and, suddenly, he was standing besides you, pointing at the chaotic pile of sweets. “I actually came back to grab another one of those cupcakes. The chocolate ones are great.”
You didn’t know why, but his comment broke the odd tension that you didn’t even know that was there, clicking you back into your previous mentality — the one that you just wanted to finish cleaning up so you could leave soon. “All yours,” you told him, “grab as many as you want.”
Jungkook hummed in satisfaction, reaching out to grab one special brown cupcake — an untouched one, thankfully. “I love when you talk dirty.” He almost moaned before shoving the cupcake inside his mouth, taking a huge bite off it. Dramatically, Jungkook rolled his eyes and sighed in delight. “These are fucking great.”
You chuckled, glancing at his direction. Jungkook was dressed in all black, like he usually was, and you were starting to recognize a newfound admiration towards his constant use of leather jackets. What? He looked good. “I’m glad the self-help sessions are paying off,” you commented, swiftly placing the cupcakes inside the transparent container.
Jungkook was paying attention to your actions now, like he noticed you were there working for the first time. “What are you doing with the rest?”
“The church will probably donate it, give it to the homeless or something.” You shrugged. “Or they’ll eat it, I don’t know. I just clean up the place and leave.”
Jungkook laughed at that, taking another monstrous bite from his cupcake and throwing himself on one of the nearby chairs. Your eye twitched a little at the thought that he had ruined your perfect circle, but you’d have to fix that on your way out. “Sounds absurdly boring,” he sang. “And they’re not even paying you.”
You sighed. “After all the places I’ve volunteered in, boring is a blessing,” you told him. You had just placed five hot dogs in the container, and you were starting to wonder if it would be a good idea to feed people in need with those suspicious sausages. “But, yeah, you probably don’t care about any of that.”
“You don’t know what I care about,” Jungkook said matter-of-factly. You didn’t know if he was trying to tease you, but his voice came out so soft and monotone that you couldn’t really be mad about it. It was true, after all: you didn’t actually know what he cared about. Sometimes you thought that he could read you better than you could read him. “Want me to stay here with you? This place is probably empty already.”
You could not hold back your laugh at that, turning around so you could look at him. “Are you offering to be my bodyguard? In a church?”
Jungkook pouted. There was a thin line of chocolate on the side of his lips, which he quickly licked clean. “I’m trying to be nice.”
You giggled, turning back towards the disgusting food. The rest was mostly trash, but you were happy enough with the amount you had managed to find in a good state. “That’s new.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked. “I’m always nice.”
“Always is a strong word.” You smiled, closing the lid of the Tupperware. You had managed to fill three small containers with the leftovers and, honestly, that was a big victory. “But you can stay or you can leave, I don’t mind. I’m almost done anyways.”
He frowned. “Is that your answer?”
You turned around. “What? You want me to beg for your company?” You smiled. “You’re mistaken if you think I’d ever do that.”
“I’m staying.” Jungkook crumpled up the piece of cupcake wrapping and threw it in the trash can besides your body. He watched you for a moment as you started to throw the leftovers away, your back turned to him and a distracted look on your face. When he broke the silence again, you were throwing the last piece of bread in the bin. “Why are you volunteering?”
“Because I like giving back to the community.”
Jungkook sneered at your words. “Seriously now. Don’t lie, we’re in a church.”
“I do, actually,” you stood your ground. There was a vague sound of crickets coming from the half-open window and the low buzzing of the fluorescent lights above you, but, other than that, the city was covered in absolute silence. Perhaps that was why you felt so at peace. “But my mom told me it would be a good thing to keep myself relaxed. You know, take my mind off college stuff.”
He hummed, and you heard him getting up from the chair. “You always do what your mom tells you?”
You met his gaze. “Didn’t your parents make you come here?”
He smiled. “Not the point.”
Before you could hold yourself back, your lips were curling up. Again: Jungkook wasn’t absolutely awful to be around when he actually acted like a human being. “When she says something I agree with, yes,” you told him. “My ego isn’t bruised when it comes to following someone’s idea.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You’re saying that mine is?”
“I didn’t say that.” You smirked and turned back to the table. You started piling up the used plastic cups, already eyeing all the used plates, forks and knives that you’d have to throw away. The daycare had better eating manners than that. “Thought we were talking about me.”
“We were,” Jungkook agreed. One of his inked hands moved to the table, and you were about to tell him that he could eat more of the cupcakes when you realized that he had started to reach for the discardable plates, throwing them away. You really didn’t think he’d help you. “Finals are coming up, though, and you care about that shit. Shouldn’t you be using this time to study or something?”
“I study while you’re out here listening to becoming your real self or, I don’t know... waking up the giant within,” you said. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”
He hummed, his nose cringing up at the disgusting remains of food that stuck to the plastic forks. Jungkook seriously didn’t know how you could do that for fun. “You know there are better ways to relax than cleaning up a dusty room, right?”
“Probably,” you agreed. The cups were already in the trash, alongside with the plates, and there were only a few crumpled up napkins to get rid of before you tasted the sweet nectar of freedom. “But here I am. That’s what I chose for myself.”
“Literally any other option would’ve been better,” Jungkook pressed on. “Isn’t that obnoxious friend of yours in cheer or something?”
“Who? Jisoo?” You smiled at him. No one had ever called her obnoxious, but you couldn’t say that the title didn’t fit. Jisoo could be really… intense when it came to standing up for what she believed in. “She is. She invited me to join her already, if that’s what you’re gonna ask, but it’s not really my thing.”
“It’s a shame,” he mumbled, leaning against the table. It was a beautiful miracle how clean that room had become just by getting rid of the piles of gross food, and you had proudly thrown the last piece of paper inside the trash bin when Jungkook spoke up again. “You’d look really hot in that outfit.”
You stopped in your tracks, taking a second to digest the claim he had so mindlessly thrown your way. Just like all-things-Jungkook, a pleasant conversation could not last long, so you weren’t even surprised that he managed to ruin that talk with such a fuckboy-esque comment.
Also like all-things-Jungkook, he managed to awaken a reaction out of you that you didn’t even know could be there. With a faint heat in your cheeks and a frown blossoming amongst your features, you actually felt a little bit of... satisfaction with the fact that he thought that you’d look hot in that skimpy outfit. At the same time, you wanted to slap yourself for falling into his charms so easily.
In that conflicting turmoil of emotions, all you could say was a monotone, “You cannot be serious right now.”
Even if you kind of wanted him to be serious.
“I’m being dead serious,” Jungkook didn’t back down, much to the elation of your ego. You felt like a schoolgirl being recognized by her crush, and the idea alone made your stomach curl onto itself. What the hell were you even thinking about? Yeah, Jungkook was pretty hot, but he was also kind of a douche and you didn’t want to get involved with that mess of a person. Or at least that was what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I mean…” he continued, “you’re even rocking this knee-level dress right now, can’t even imagine how you’d look if—“
“You can shut up now, Jungkook, thanks,” you interrupted him. Because you didn’t know how to act when he was so blatantly flirting with you, you switched back to the same passive-aggressive behavior that you had given him for the past three months. Call it self-preservation, call it panic, but your mind simply didn’t know where to go from there. “And I’m also done here, so you can skidaddle back to whatever swamp you came out of.”
“Awn, don’t be mean, princess.” He pouted. Jungkook was a master at getting you worked up, and you had just given that to him on a silver platter. Maybe if you had mock-flirted back, he would’ve baked away. You would never know. “I was just fucking with you, you’re too easy to tease.”
You pressed your lips together, hip touching the corner of the now empty table. “You were pretty much harassing me,” you said playfully.
“I was not.” Jungkook smirked, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his pants. When had the two of you gotten so close? There was barely any space between your chests. “But it’s okay, I’m not gonna compliment you anymore, don’t worry. You don’t have to be so defensive.”
“I’m not being defensive,” you said, defensive.
“What, is it the church setting?” He raised his eyebrows, taking a look around. “Is it making you uncomfortable?”
“No,” you answered, crossing your arms before your chest. Jungkook followed the movement and his gaze got stuck on the shape of your breasts for a second too long, making a newfound wave of heat rise up to your cheeks. “Not as much as you’re trying to make me uncomfortable right now.”
He chuckled. “You do look cute when you’re shy,” Jungkook teased, taking a step towards you, and you took another one back, pretending you were just going to lean against the table. You sat on it in a weird diagonal position, with one leg still on the ground and the other dangling over the edge. Jungkook was so close that, when he spoke again, voice just above a whisper, you could feel his breath on your skin. “If you don’t want me here, just ask me to go and I’ll go.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. The atmosphere was filled with electricity, your body drowning in the warmth of his presence, the sharp seriousness in his dark eyes, and you could not bring yourself to say anything. Did you want him to leave?
No, you realized in a rush of adrenaline, you didn’t want him to leave at all.
Jungkook raised one of his eyebrows. “Hm? Nothing?” He smirked, placing himself between your legs. Every nerve of your body was screaming for you to touch him, to just wrap his mouth with yours, and you simply could not respond to any of its commands. “You’re full of surprises.”
You found your voice at that comment, heart hammering against your chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re a smart girl, you can figure it out.” Jungkook placed one strand of your hair behind your ear, his gaze flickering down to your chest. From where he stood, he could see the beautiful mounds of your breasts peeking under the fabric, licking his lips at the sight. “Can I at least say that I like your dress?”
Jungkook’s palm slithered up your knee before you could even react, moving towards your inner thigh and raising your dress along with it. His touch was electrifying, and you found yourself craving more of it, a sigh caught on your throat at the tenderness of his hot skin.
“Something tells me that your compliment isn’t so innocent,” you told him, leaning your head back slightly so you could hold his gaze. “Aren’t you gonna complete that and say that I would look better without it?”
Jungkook chuckled. “The idea is compelling, I’ll admit it,” he said, rubbing soft circles on your skin. His other hand slithered around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “But don’t need to take it off to fuck you.”
Your eyes grew wide at that, brain short-circuiting. You frankly couldn’t believe that was happening — the fact that Jungkook was so shamelessly trying (and honestly succeeding) to initiate sex with you. In a fucking church too, of all places. “What- what did you say?”
“You heard what I said.” His stare didn’t falter. Jungkook was looking at you like he could eat you whole, and you seriously wouldn’t mind if he tried to. You'd deal with the social and psychological implications of that another time. “Just tell me to stop and I’ll do it, princess. No hard feelings, promise.”
This time, you spoke out and the firmness and certainty in your voice surprised even yourself. “I don’t want you to stop.”
“No?” His voice sounded like honey, so deep and melodic even through the thick layers of his sarcasm. You had never heard him get so serious, so focused, and the thought that it was all for you was igniting a fire inside your guts. “You wanna get fucked in a church?”
You bit your lip, blinking up at him. The point was: you wanted Jungkook, of all people, to fuck you. The fact that it was in a church was just the cherry on top, and you didn’t care about it as much as you should — your mom would be weeping blood if she knew what was going on, but you weren’t planning on telling anything to anybody. “And what if I do?” You asked back teasingly.
Jungkook smiled, knocking the breath right out of you. You could only hope that you didn’t look as horny as you felt, because your pride was still on the line. “Told you that you were full of surprises.” He pushed one of your legs open, making you lose your support on the floor. Now, both of your feet were dangling off the edge, body trapped between his strong arms and thighs on either side of him. “Are you a virgin, baby?”
You shook your head, and your voice reached you a bit later. “No.”
“Naughty,” Jungkook said, leaning in. He stared at you like a lion stalking its prey, his gaze lingering on your parted lips before, at last, he tilted his head to the side, deciding to move towards your neck instead. “But if you have the taste I think you do, you probably had some lame missionary sex with some goodie-two shoes.”
When he started kissing your neck, you almost forgot to give him a response. You had to bite your lip to suppress a moan, instead producing a low, shaky sigh. “And if I did? What’s the problem with some lame missionary sex?”
“No need to get mad, I’m on your side here,” Jungkook said, one of his hands navigating up your waist, between the valley of your breasts, before grabbing your boob. That time, you couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped you. “Did he make you cum?”
“Sometimes,” you said, slightly flustered. You didn’t think you’d be discussing your sexual history with Jungkook, but, well, there you were. “He was alright.”
“Only sometimes?” Jungkook chuckled, the vibrations of his deep timbre vibrating through the sensitive skin of your neck, his thumb grazing your nipple. The heat between your legs only grew, your entire body practically begging to feel more of him. “That’s a shame, I could do better.”
You rolled your eyes. “Don’t start getting cocky.”
“I never stopped being cocky,” he responded without hesitation. Well, he was right. “And I do have a good track record.”
“Doubt it,” you said, the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips. You knew that you were playing a dangerous game, pressing right at the weak spots of his inflated ego to see how he would react. Perhaps you’d be luckier trying to poke a bear with a short stick. “You wouldn’t know the difference between a real and fake orgasm even if it hit you in the face.”
Jungkook leaned back and looked at you for an instant. You knew he had caught onto your challenge straight away. He liked it as much as you did, there was no doubt about that. “Let’s see, shall we?” he asked. There was no denying the devilish aura that was all around him now, suffocating you with its tempting heat. “How long do we have?”
“I’m locking up the room tonight,” you said, watching as his eyes sparked with an emotion you could not decipher. “But I wanna get home before ten. Have homework.”
You could see him fighting against the natural urge to ridicule you for saying something like that at such an odd time, but, at the end, he managed to avoid it. “More than enough time.” Jungkook placed one hand on the back of your neck, gaze darting hungrily toward your lips. “Come here.”
And then his mouth was on yours, and everything else was white noise. Jungkook kissed you much slower than you had anticipated, taking his sweet time caressing your mouth with his; hands exploring the curves of your body and teasing their way underneath your dress. He sighed heavily against your mouth when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, his soft tongue poking out and entering your mouth perfectly. Jungkook was a good kisser, you had to admit it, and he got your knees weak sooner than you’d like.
His body was hot and firm against yours and you could feel the outline of his abs underneath your fingers as you trailed your hands down his torso; his quick heartbeat drumming on your palms. Jungkook’s breathing got heavier as you hooked your fingers on the hem of his pants and tugged him toward you. Instantly you noticed the outline of his hard cock against your inner thigh.
Then, something switched. Just as you had reached out to touch his hardness, squeezing it lightly underneath your fingers, Jungkook groaned against your mouth and bit down on your lip. You had barely any time to react before he was pulling away from the kiss, gaze darkening.
“Such a tease,” he mumbled hoarsely, his breath hitting your mouth in soft waves. His hand was hovering over your heat, his middle finger pressing down on your sensitive nub, making you whimper. “You don’t know what you do to me.”
Jungkook was much quicker than your thoughts and, within a second, the motion of your panties being pushed aside made you fumble closer to him; your hands holding tightly onto his shoulders when he finally decided to touch you.
“Fuck,” he groaned next to your ear, making your mind go blank for a split second. The teasing motions of his digits brushing your entrance were enough to make you whimper, hips thrusting forward in a failed attempt to make him move further. “Look at this, you’re soaking my fingers. Wanna get fucked that bad?”
But he didn’t let you respond. The sudden intrusion of two fingers inside your pussy made your back arch, nails digging in the leather of his jacket as Jungkook opened you up. “I—” you tried to speak, but it was hard to think when he started pumping his fingers in and out of you. The sounds of your wetness were a filthy symphony filling the quiet atmosphere. “Jungkook, what—”
“God, that’s so tight,” he groaned, speaking through clenched teeth. His voice was enough to shut you up at the spot, a frail moan dripping from your lips. “Relax, baby, you’re too tense. Let me take care of you, alright?”
You nodded, eyes drifting shut as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. You hated to admit it, but Jungkook was already winning against your ex by a long shot: the way his digits brushed inside you, gradually moving apart to stretch you, got you searching — begging — for more. You were sure you could cum around his fingers and, when he curled them up and they dragged against your sweet spot, the idea became a lot more palpable.
“Jungkook, you’re taking too long, I’m gonna cum like this,” you complained, chest rising and falling under the waves of your upcoming orgasm. You could feel it building up in your stomach, ready to snap, and you didn’t want it to happen around his fingers. “I wanna feel you.”
Jungkook breathed out at your needy request, placing a kiss against your jaw. “I’m just getting you ready for my cock, baby,” he said. A loud moan dripped from you when he unceremoniously added a third finger, your legs trembling on either side of his body. “I don’t know if you can take it.”
You scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you said, only half aware of the fact that your voice sounded more like a whimper than a serious comment. “I can.”
He smirked wickedly. You really were pushing his buttons. “We’ll see about that,” Jungkook responded.
Within a second, right as your orgasm was about to wash over you, he removed his fingers from your pussy. The frustrated moan you let out was quickly swollen by him, his mouth rogue against yours and the sweetness of his tongue intoxicating you — probably those stupid cupcakes, you thought.
“Turn around for me,” he asked.
You quickly did as he requested, putting your feet on the ground before turning your back to him, hands leaning on the table. Jungkook placed one hand on the curve of your spine, pushing you down until you had your chest against the surface, ass perked up and pussy in full display for him. There was a gush of cold air against your flesh when he pulled up the fabric of your dress and tossed it over your waist, exposing your lower body for him.
The boy hummed at the sight, one of his legs kicking your feet apart so he could position himself in the middle of your thighs. “You’re pretty all around,” Jungkook commented, one of his palms grazing your asscheek before grabbing it. His motion was harsh, needy; earning a whimper from you. “Knew you would be.”
Through the dense clouds of your desire, there was still some part of you that managed to make fun of that situation. “You spend your free time thinking about my ass?”
“Won’t answer until I have a lawyer present,” he joked.
You felt his fingers hooking around the fabric of your panties, pushing it further to the side so you had your cunt fully exposed for him to see. The drumming of your heartbeat almost drowned out the low groan he produced at the sight of your flushed heat.
“Princess, your pussy is dripping so much…” Jungkook trailed off, one of his fingers tracing a line between your lips. He felt the urge to eat you out, to lick you completely clean and make you cum on his tongue, but he decided that would have to wait for a different time. “Is this all for me?”
“Yeah, all for you,” you said, weak. There was a thundering exasperation building up inside you, motivated from your denied orgasm and from the way that Jungkook was taking his sweet time.
“Good girl,” he mumbled and your chest was filled with pride. “Can’t wait to fuck it.”
“Then don’t wait,” you practically begged. “Just rush.”
He removed his finger from your heat. “Shh… be patient,” Jungkook told you and you swore you could practically hear the smile in his voice. You could hear him shuffling behind you, the sound of his zipper opening echoing around that still room. “I’m gonna give you whatever you want.”
You whined at the abrupt feeling of his warm cock rubbing between your folds, its tip hitting your clit after every languid thrust. “Fuck,” you cried out, shaky. Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said that he was big, his length was so thick that you were starting to get second thoughts whether you could take it or not. Not that you would ever admit it out loud. “Just put it in, Jungkook.”
But Jungkook was having way more fun just teasing you. “Pussy’s so wet for me.” He breathed out, his hands tightening around your hips. You felt him throb between your folds, and the sensation got you searching for air. “You’re soaking my cock, baby. You want it that much?”
“Y-Yeah.”
Jungkook hummed, leaning in so he could place a kiss on your shoulder. “I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve to be fucked, princess,” he promised, his length still rubbing between your folds. He was so hard and heavy that your mind was spinning, your lungs drowning in expectation. “Gonna fuck you so well that you’re never going to forget it. Do you want that?”
“Yes,” your voice was a pathetic moan, and you hated your body for betraying you so easily. “Yes, please.”
After another pec on your shoulder, Jungkook leaned back. “Be loud for me, alright?” He asked. “Can you do that for me?”
You swallowed hard — what were the chances that someone would hear you? You had no idea. “Yeah, whatever you want, just fuck me.”
“Whatever I want? That’s a dangerous thing to say.” He moved around behind you, making you flinch when you felt his cock align with your dripping entrance. The anticipation was driving you insane. “Might have to see if you’re up for it another time.”
There was an answer somewhere in your mind — you could swear there was — but it was quickly forgotten the second that Jungkook pushed himself inside you. The drag of his cock was a delicious torture, streching you out and filling you up to the brim until you were shaking under his touch, both of you moaning at the sensation.
“Oh my god.” You breathed out, hands turning into fists on the table. Your cheek was pressed against the polished wood, hot breath creating small white clouds on the surface.
Jungkook released a shaky sigh when he felt you clenching around him, your body desperately trying to move closer to him. “Fuck, baby,” he hissed, his hands holding onto your hips for dear life. Gradually, he moved himself away from your pussy just so he could slam back inside, marveling on the way you trembled at the feeling, crying out his name in the prettiest of whimpers. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. Squeezing my cock so well.”
Took you only an instant to realize that you were absolutely addicted to the feeling of his cock inside you, the heavenly push of his hardness in and out of you as he slowly started to set a pace. “Oh my god, I’m—” a pitiful hiccup interrupted you, turning your voice into a sharp cry. “That’s so good, Jungkook.”
Jungkook chuckled behind you, his thrusts starting to pick up speed. Your eyes closed in endless bliss, every part of your brain focused on the sensation of his fat length stretching you up. “Told you I’d be, not my fault you didn’t believe me,” he said, but you could tell that his confidence had started to wear itself thin — he, too, seemed to be much more focused on the way that your bodies met. “Do you touch yourself, princess?”
You almost didn’t know how to answer him, a deep heat rushing up to your cheeks. “W-What?”
“When you’re alone, baby,” he practically hissed. You were bouncing on the table then, your body jerking up and down as he fully pistoned his cock inside your heat. “Do you play with your little pussy?”
“Y-yes,” you stammered, embarrassed. “S-Sometimes.”
“Show me how you do it,” he requested in-between huffs, lust dripping from every syllable. Jungkook spoke to you like a siren, effortlessly inducting you to comply with everything he wanted. “Come on. Don’t be shy, I wanna see you play with yourself for me.”
You didn’t even know if what you were feeling was shyness, but there was a veil of hesitation that covered your actions. As your hands moved downwards, one of them clenching around the fabric of your dress and pulling it up while the other trailed over your mound, you felt strangely vulnerable, exposed. At the same time, you wanted to do what he asked you to, wanted him to wash you over with compliments until your mind was going blank.
So you closed your eyes and focused on the sensation of two of your fingers coating themselves in your wetness, then their pressure on your clit. You whined at the feeling, pleasure exploding in your veins as you started to rub yourself, tracing small circles on your sensitive spot. There was no way you could ever reach that sensation again, the sweet motions of your fingers combining perfectly with the thrusts of his hard, fat cock inside you. You were doomed.
“That’s it… just like that, baby,” Jungkook whispered, obsessed with the sensation of your walls fluttering around him. You had gotten so tight that he thought he would see heaven at any second now. “Feels good?”
“Y-Yeah, so good...” you struggled to get out, “feels amazing, Jungkook.”
“So perfect for me,” his praise shot straight up to your core, making you mewl under him. God, the way that you were tightening around him was going to drive him insane. “You feel so fucking good, I can’t stop fucking you.”
Jungkook took one of his hands to your neck, using it to guide your body upwards until you had your back pressed against his chest; his hot lips assaulting your neck. The new position made it so much easier for his cock to drill inside you, reaching even deeper and hitting sweet spots you didn’t even know you had. It wasn’t long before you were moaning out, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure overtook you.
“Just take a look at that, baby,” his voice broke you out of your hypnotized state. “Look at you. Such a good slut, just taking everything I’m giving you, touching yourself for my cock… fuck. Could watch you like this forever.”
You had to take a moment to understand what he was talking about, and then you saw it: the window. It stood silently across the room from you, half open, and the glass combined with the darkness of the night gave a perfect reflection of the two of you. You could see yourself, the mess you had become, as Jungkook pounded in and out of you and your fingers worked on your clit; the darkness of his hungry gaze as he followed the motions of your body against his.
Even if you cried out at the sight, your body freezed up a little at the thought of someone walking by and seeing that private spectacle. The possibility itself was minimal — the window gave way to the side of the land, where a big, thick fence separated it from the nearby houses; most of the ground covered by large trees and bushes — but it wasn’t zero. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the humiliation that would come from being seen like that.
He, of course, noticed your change of demeanor right away, and you could see in the faint reflection that he had smirked at that realization. “What is it? Are you worried someone is going to walk by?” Jungkook almost groaned against your ear. His cock continued to pump ferociously in and out of you, and you couldn’t even understand your own thoughts for a moment. “That someone is gonna see you get fucked like a good slut?”
“It’s not—” a moan cut your sentence short. Not like you knew where you were heading, anyways.
“No one is gonna see you like this, know why?” Jungkook was grunting, his fingers tightening around your throat. You cried out at the feeling, your cunt clenching around him in a way that got him fucking you even harder. “Cause this is all for me. Just for me.”
Then he was pushing you back on the table, your chest crashing against the wooden surface and his hands yanking you by the waist. Jungkook was fucking you so hard that your worries left you as soon as they arrived, your mind a turmoil of desires and broken exclamations that didn’t give space to anything else but him.
“You look fucking gorgeous like this, stuffed with cock,” he marveled at the sight. There was a known wave of pleasure hovering over you, ready to crash at any given moment, and you stopped rubbing yourself just so you could prolong its arrival. “Wanna see you cum for me, make a mess for me, baby.”
The words left you in a confusing, broken order, “Jungkook, I can’t… too much… can’t...”
“Shhh, you can,” he was slowly easing you into your orgasm, his cock drilling in and out of your pussy. Jungkook fucked like a machine, fast and precise, and you didn’t think you’d be able to forget that anytime soon. “You told me you could take it, so now you’re gonna take it. Don’t you wanna be good for me?”
“I- I want to… I’m so close,” you cried out, pressing your forehead against the table. You didn’t know how it hadn’t broken yet, with the way that Jungkook was fucking you so mercilessly hard. “I’m so, so close.”
“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he urged you on, his member throbbing inside you at the thought. Your legs were so weak that you knew you’d fall facedown on the floor if he wasn’t supporting your weight with his strong arms. “Be a good girl and cream my cock for me.”
And that was it. That was all that you needed to push yourself over the edge, submerging you in ecstasy and making you squeeze him so deliciously. “J-Jungkook!” You moaned out his name again and again, unsure of how loud you were being, but also not caring as much as you should. Jungkook realized he loved hearing you call his name more than anything else. “Fuck! Oh my god!”
“That’s it, baby,” he moaned back, his thrusts a sloppy, uncoordinated mess. He was hypnotized by the view of your cunt hugging him, your wetness dripping down your thighs as you rode out the last seconds of your orgasm. “Pussy’s so fucking tight, so fucking perfect— gonna cum too.”
You gasped out at the sensitivity that was starting to spread, every movement shaky as you tried to push yourself against him. “Yes, please.” You looked over your shoulder, meeting his hooded gaze. Jungkook looked like a god, his dark hair sweaty and messy and his lip trapped between his teeth. That image would plague you forever. “Cum inside me, please.”
He groaned loudly, eyes closing for a second. “Fuck, that’s so fucking hot,” he hissed, chest heaving with anticipation. You knew he was close, everything pointed to that, and all that you wanted was to see him reach his high, using your body like it was just a doll for him to fuck. “Didn’t know you’d want to be filled up with cum, princess.”
“I’m full of surprises.” You smiled — a pretty, fucked-out smile that got Jungkook grunting like a madman. “I want your cum inside me, Jungkook, please.”
“Gonna fuck you full of my cum, don’t worry— Shit.” The sounds he was making were heavily: those breathy, high-pitched moans that echoed all around you; broken by deep grunts that had your thighs shaking. Jungkook fucked himself in you like he was meant for it, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as he finally found his orgasm. “Fuck! That’s it, fuck—”
Jungkook called out your name and mixed it with praises and curses when he came, spilling himself inside your pussy. You sighed at the feeling, taking in the blissful sensation of having his hot cum spilling out of you, dripping down your legs as he continued to thrust inside you, milking out his orgasm.
At last, he started to wince from sensitivity. His body collided against your back, his heavy breathing fanning your neck as he tried to collect himself. “Fuck, baby,” he mumbled, “you’re amazing.”
“You’re not so terrible yourself.” You could not help the smile that appeared on your lips, nor the way that you melted against the surface of the table, drowning in his heat.
Still, you couldn’t stay there for much longer: it was already a miracle that no one heard the chaos going on in that room, and you weren’t trying to push your luck for the night. Especially since you had a pile of homework (and possibly — now cold — takeout) waiting for you at home.
You raised your body, leaning against your elbows. “I have to leave,” you told him, taking one of your hands to lay on top of his tattooed one, trying to ease his grip from your waist. “Now if you could just…”
“Shhh, shhh,” Jungkook hushed, unrelenting. He was much stronger than you, and your muscles were too weak for you to try and do much, so you eventually gave up. “Stop moving. Let me feel you around me for just a bit more.”
You frowned. “Why?”
“I like it,” he said simply. His breath was a faint caress against the skin of your neck, and you didn’t have much fight left in you. “We all have our tastes.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re so weird.”
“Don’t kinkshame.” Jungkook pouted, then pressed a kiss against your shoulder. “You just begged me to fuck you in a church, remember?”
“Yeah, I guess I don’t have much place to judge.” You laughed dryly, then looked over your shoulder. “Why is your cock still hard? How long is this gonna take?”
Jungkook groaned, clearly annoyed. “Shut up and enjoy the moment.”
~
The so-called moment lasted about two more minutes (which was kind of impressive, you thought) before Jungkook softened and slipped out of you. You hated to admit but you kind of liked the feeling of having him still inside you, completing you as his lips danced around your neck; fingers tenderly playing with your hair. You never thought Jungkook would be so gentle after fucking you like that, but you guessed that you weren’t the only one that was full of surprises.
Jungkook, apparently, also liked to admire his work. After he had slipped out of you, he made you sit back on the table just so he could stare at his own cum dripping out of you, a glimmer of satisfaction in his dark gaze. He had pushed his white release back inside you and smirked up at you, asking, ever so kindly, for you to go home like that, filled with his cum.
You, of course, promptly accepted it.
“By the way,” he called when you two had already stepped out of the church, enveloped by the coldness of the night. There was only one solitary light pole illuminating his features, making him look like one of the saints in the chapel — nothing but fake advertisement, in your opinion. “Wanna know how much I got in that immunology test?”
“How much?” You asked.
“Eighty two.” Jungkook smiled brightly then, and you found yourself joining him. “Never saw a grade so high in my life. And that counts all the times I’ve cheated too.”
“Seems like the tutoring sessions are paying off.” You crossed your arms before your chest, the hem of your dress swirling around your knees. The night was weirdly peaceful after everything that had taken place.
“They are.” He nodded. “I’m looking forward to the next one. Helps that my tutor is kind of a hottie too.”
You scoffed. “So I’ve heard.”
“And, by the way?”
“Yeah?”
“You would look better without it.” He pointed at your dress, a sly smile already sprouting on his lips. “Hope to see it next time.”
“Good night, Jungkook.” You rolled your eyes, already turning around — yeah, like there would ever be a next time.
~
BAD INFLUENCE COLLECTION
TAGLIST:
@taehyungieskith @fan-ati--c @btstrasht @crazy4myself @sashimi-mochi @ft-multi @kooafraid @dianaaviny @ggukkieland @cryinginmypromdress @kissestothesky
#bts smut#jungkook smut#jungkook#bts#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jeon jungkook#bad boy au#smut#reader insert#bts x you#bts x reader#bad boy jungkook#bts au#jungkook au#series#pwp#fluff
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A Date With Destiny (m)
“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves, alone - we find it with another.” - Thomas Merton
➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader
➺ Trope: Strangers to Lovers, Idol!AU
➺ Genre: Fluff, Smut, one comedian in the mix
➺ Rating: 18+
➺ Word Count: 11k
➺ Summary: You are a boss lady in the tech industry travelling to world for work. He is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths.
Luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.
➺ Warnings: dom!jk, unprotected sex (sex is cleaner when you pack your weiner!), hickeys galore, lot of spit, oral (male and female receiving), balls receive attention, throat fucking, cum eating, edging, masturbation kinda?, cum play, pussy slapping, pussy sniffing, fingering, squirting, spanking, pain kink?, tit slapping, reader teases a bit but this man is a tease maestro, cum stuffing (is that a thing even?), Jungkook’s THIGHS need their own warning
➺ Author’s Note: @ppersonna is an angel among us peasants. Thank you so much for all your help with this!
This is my first attempt at writing, and the tiniest feedback goes a long way! Hope you enjoy!
When you die, the first pit stop you make is to the coffee gods.
Without coffee, this whole month would have been a disaster. Back-to-back meetings, daily flights, countless documents being read, it’s a miracle your eyes are open and fully functioning.
Being the Chief Technical Officer of a well-established company at your age had been anything but a cakewalk. You had strived hard and crossed many boulders to come to where you are. But if reaching that point required huge amounts of effort, now your work is tenfold.
“Why can’t I just get longer flights so I can nap in them?” You mumble into your nth cup of coffee - not keeping count is for your own sanity.
“Because longer flights apparently have crying children. You, our resident baby-magnet hypothesized that shorter flights equal more time in hotel rooms ‘sleeping’. Guess who sleeps in said hotel rooms? Everyone but you.” Your personal assistant and part-time truth-spouter Jake offers helpfully.
“Past me was such an idiot.” You shoot back, wondering if you could inject the espresso right through your veins.
Jake pouts. “Woman, you take on jobs that an intern could do. If you weren’t such an unnecessary perfectionist I would be on the beaches of Thailand, getting sensual massages and eating some pretty pussy. But here we are, on our way to Seoul. So quit your whining because clearly, I have lost more.”
“What if I wanted to do that too?”
“Can I watch?”
“Right.” And that was the end of the conversation.
Passengers on flight KE654 from Bangkok to Seoul are requested to report for boarding at Gate 45A. First Class passengers will be boarded first, followed by Business class and lastly Economy. Please keep your boarding pass ready for checking.
Jake stands up, groaning. “This is where we say goodbye. Do you wanna pretend like we’re strangers and have a hot one-night stand when we land?”
“Sometimes I think it’s your natural response to flirt with a breathing being. Do you ever accidentally just, you know, flirt with a tree?” You try to sound sarcastic, but you’re genuinely curious.
“If a day comes when a hot specimen like me has to flirt with a tree, humanity is doomed. Catch ya later!” He blows you a kiss before leaving for the restroom. You shake your head in awe, a small smile finding your lips. He knew how to get your mind off things.
For all his flirting, Jake’s interest in you is perfunctory. He looks after you, keeps you from starving or gouging your eyeballs out, and calms you when things are too hard. He’s seen your worst. You’ve seen him drunk out of his mind, bailed him out when he “accidentally” smoked up, and heard every new pick-up line his ingenious brain churned out. Basically, you’ve seen his worst as well.
You take a look at your boarding pass. 3C. Jake would be in business class, and you in first. Not your choice, the company makes the rules. It's for the better, he says. Apparently, he can ‘prowl for his hunt better’, without your judgmental glare. You nearly vomit on him just for his choice of words.
Entering the flight, you stash away your hand baggage the first place you find the room and head to your seat and-
Holy. Shit.
Jeon Jungkook is sitting on your seat.
Jeon Jungkook is on your flight?
BTS is on your flight?
What are the odds?
Granted, you’re not a 16-year old obsessive fan, collecting photocards and waving light sticks through the screen, but even in your adulthood you’ve admired their music and shows, routinely keeping up with their discography.
Hell, you even learned Korean years ago to better understand their songs. Maybe you are an obsessive fan.
But you can’t approach them like that. They no doubt want some privacy and not be recognized. God forbid you approach Jungkook with crazy eyes, just to be escorted off the plane for stalking. While you liked their work, you had your own, and getting thrown off this flight does not help you there.
So, you’re just gonna have to speak to him like just another passenger.
BTS who?
Biggest boyband who?
You only listen to Frank Sinatra.
“Excuse me?” You call out, a shiver of a whisper leaving your lips. You immediately chastise yourself for being so star-struck.
Big, round eyes glitter under the bucket hat. The softest ‘huh’ throws a lasso over your heart, and holds it captive. He adjusts his hat, inked fingers making a brief yet lasting appearance. The epitome of tenderness, you muse as his eyes flit here and there to figure out the situation. After finding no one to help him out, he gently offers “Yes?”
You feel extremely guilty for marring his serene face with creases of trouble. “I think this is my seat. See, 3C.” you say, pointing to the seat and then to your ticket for good measure. Did he suspect you recognize them? No. Do you look like you’re over-gesticulating? Totally.
“Oh.” His brow distresses further, the sight has you ready to give the man your seat and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. “But even I am 3C.”
His ticket shows the same characters as yours.
Huh?
With both your faces contorted in confusion, an air hostess comes forward to help.
“We both are booked on the same seat. How does that happen? Do I need to catch another flight?” You suddenly pour out, remembering the countless commitments you have in Seoul that would go down the drain if you don’t make it by tonight.
She's quick to reassure you. “Do not worry ma’am, I’m sure there must have been an error in the printing. I’ll be right back.” At the same time, Jungkook is approached by someone, probably one of their staff, to discuss the issue.
The air hostess returns smiling. “Ma’am, you both were booked on the same seat but this adjacent seat was left empty. We are extremely sorry for the error. You may take 3B.” She reiterates the same message to Jungkook in Korean, who then looks mighty relieved.
Goddamn, his eyes got bigger. How much bigger can they get?
“All okay then?” He glances sideways, smile irradiating your senses and waking you up better than all the coffee could.
“All good. Sorry for the trouble.” You add, even though it isn’t your mistake in any way.
“No no. No trouble” He beams back.
Aw, you are in trouble.
As the flight is about to take off, you can see the rest of BTS in the rows ahead of you, with some other staff members taking up other seats. There’s one old man with a scowl on his face, whom you can’t place with the BigHit group. Great, no crying kids. Unless the frowning grandpa snores to the heavens, you can actually catch a good four-hour snooze. Take that, Jake. Hope a kid blows snot in his face.
Looking at your neighbor, you find him busy searching for a good video game on the screen. The other members seem to be using this flight to catch a nap, except him. You always wondered whether their on-screen persona was real or not. Now you could say at least one of his characteristics is true.
Turning away, you bring your focus back to the document at hand. The schematics for a new product your company was launching. You had spearheaded its conception and looked over every single detail in its manufacturing. The Seoul branch is one of the main players in its production, and your last stop before heading back home. You must have every word in this file burnt in the back of your eyelids to make this deal smooth.
Reclining your seat, and putting your legs up, you got down to business.
An Angel was calling you.
You want to wake up, but you couldn’t, fearing the Angel would stop singing to you. Something is poking you, but the voice just drowns it all out.
Wait...
Fluttering your eyes open, you see Jeon Jungkook staring right at you.
“Hi... They, umm--Food? Want to eat?” the Angel utters. Jungkook utters. Tomato, to-mah-to.
“Oh!” you exclaim, wiping non-existent drool on your face. His palm on your shoulder quickly retracts at your exaggerated attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Thank you so much.”
Then, he does that thing. He smiles. Eye scrunch and all.
Fuck the coffee gods. When you die, you want to meet the Grand Master and ask him what crack he was on to hand over so much power to one man’s smile.
The food is placed on your table, and you thank the hostess graciously.
“Do you need anything to drink?” She asks, to which you only shake your head. There was enough caffeine in your system to shoot a horse to the moon and you were still drowsy. There was no need to catalyze this process with booze.
“Your Korean accent is pretty good.” Your next-seat resident comments. Ah, you had conversed with the hostess in Korean.
“Thank you very much.” You giggle, roleplaying an acne-prone teenager talking to her hunk of a crush.
“Have you been speaking for a long time?” He pops a huge morsel of food after asking. Well, that’s another on-screen quality found to be accurate.
“Six years now. Comes in handy for my work.”
“Oh! Did you have to learn it for work? That’s fascinating.” Another mouthful went in. You didn’t even know it was physically possible to hold that much rice using chopsticks.
“Uhh.. no..” You tussle your hair, trying to stop your cheeks from turning beet red, “I just listened to some music and consuming more content.. and subtitles are a bore, plus I needed a hobby at the time so..”
Your unnecessarily long explanation was cut short by Jungkook’s child-like laugh, enjoying the pickle you were putting yourself in.
“Hey! I just didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, that’s all.” you try to be cross, knowing it’s inconceivable since God himself seems to have given him whatever he wanted. If big ol’ Almighty can’t stand against his charms, you are but a mere pleb.
He looks at you kindly. “Thank you, that was very thoughtful. I’ve been speaking to so many foreigners trying to get across to them I got surprised when you spoke so fluently.”
He went back to chomping on his food like it was his last meal, completely unaware of your staring.
You both speak for a long time. He explains their latest shoot and fan meeting, and you listen to him pour out his love for his job and fans as much as he could articulate. The rest of the emotion is portrayed by his now widest eyeballs (they cannot get any wider, you confirm by asking him - a request he apparently gets a lot) and intense gesticulation. It is very gratifying to listen to his past schedules, and you slip in a quick prayer for not having a job where you had to maintain public appearances while having a schedule as persevering as theirs. Sure, you had a ton of commitments. But can you throw your hair in a bun and aggressively scowl at a monitor and still meet your target? Fuck yeah.
You went on to tell him about yourself - your job, your travels, the reason you were in Seoul. He listens to them with rapt attention throwing in appropriate questions without interrupting your flow. He gives the right amount of sympathy; just enough to show that he understands why you have three sets of nightwear and a futon in your office, but not too much where it seems like you should “take a break” and “think about the joys of motherhood” - as you are often told.
During the conversation, you digress a little to take in his slight features. The apple of his cheeks, in full display, when he tells you about how he pranked his members. The light pout of his lips when he talks about the times their path seemed too far-fetched, when every single obstacle felt like the end of their career. The stars in his eyes when he speaks of how he feels during tours, meeting the endless number of fans, the drive that keeps him going. They all make an endearing package. Eager to please, you kept the conversation going with gusto. The meal is followed by a snack break, after which you had effectively exhausted all conversation topics that could be brought up with near-strangers.
A quick alcohol break later, (yes, you caved, the catalyst was welcome) you both doze off, seemingly exhausted from recollecting respective timetables. He wakes up soon after to play video games and talk to the other members. But you fall into a deep slumber, with an Angel’s chuckles in the background guiding you through the sleep.
Jungkook wakes up to see his character dead. The video game was forgotten after his conversation with you began.
He spent an inordinate amount of time talking to you. And now that you’re asleep, he is only thinking about how much he enjoyed the conversation. Jungkook is not a speaker. His introversion leaves much to be desired in that department. Most of the time, his members cover for him, play the role of dutiful wingmen, and introduce him to their friends. And still, it took him a long time to talk freely.
But something about you made him open up.
Maybe it was the way you listened to him, lips slightly parted when you were absorbing every single word he let out. Maybe it was the questions you asked, treading lightly and skirting any personal questions. Maybe it was the fact that you pretended to not know him at first, mindful of his privacy. The butterflies in him could be explained by this.
But.
It could also be how graceful you looked, even though you’re dressed in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. It could be how you carried yourself, with great elegance and poise, even though your work was taxing. It could also be your toe socks, and your glee when he showed you his.
Your personality is infectious. He already misses you, despite you being inches away, desperately wants to exhaust every second of this journey engrossed in you.
He wonders if you feel that way too.
Speaking of whom-
A snicker escapes his lips when he turns to face you.
In your sleepy haze, Jungkook sees that a) your mouth is wide open, b) your hands mindlessly fiddle with the reams of pages on your lap, and c) your eyes scrunch as sunlight pierces through the flight to bounce off your face. Cute, he muses, trying to locate the source of the criminal rays irking you.
The window letting the sunbeam in is beside an old man sitting on the other end. He is eyeing the magazine in his hands with abject disapproval, like the booklet had sullied him and his family.
Gathering up the courage, Jungkook calls out for the man.
“Excuse me, sir. Do you mind pulling the window shade?” He asks, in the sweetest voice that his hyungs would melt at first listen.
Puppy eyes are met with the geezer’s piercing glare, making Jungkook wonder if he accidentally said something strikingly offensive instead of what he thought he said. About to backtrack his words and try again, he gets interrupted by the man letting out a big grunt, after which he continues in his endeavor to telepathically set fire to the magazine. He does not forget to give a nasty side-eye but completely refuses to comply with Jungkook’s request.
“And my team thinks my glares are spooky.” You pique, having witnessed the whole interaction, “I ought to have him on board”. Jungkook snorts, and you take that to be his agreement.
Pausing, you throw caution in the wind and add, “Thank you though, that was very sweet of you.”
He eyes you demurely. “No problem, you looked like you needed the rest.”
“Listen, I-”
“So I was think-”
Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Incheon International airport. Please ensure your backpacks and suitcases are stowed away in the overhead compartments or underneath the seats ahead of you. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.
High-quality curses almost make it to heaven (speakers). The announcement dissipates all the courage you had mustered, feeling a rush exit your body. You had almost asked for his contact - and by the looks of it, he had wanted it too. Or maybe your hair is a rat's nest and he was just going to point that out. Guess you will never know.
You shyly smile at each other before going about following the instructions. Your half-read document gets stuffed back into its bag, to be read once you have no distractions in the form of eye candy armed with saccharine speech. Well, you have Jake to distract you plenty, but you can shoo him away by threatening his paycheck.
As the flight descends, you look over to your neighbor - one last time, you guess - and surprisingly lock eyes with him. Anything that had exited you comes rushing back, veins in full alertness. A moment’s awkwardness later you both burst out laughing, each doing their best to hide their crimson cheeks. You find one more online fact to be true - Jungkook’s peak happiness laughter, eye crinkle and nose scrunch, can melt your whole entire heart.
“Hey mami, come here often?”
“For the last time Jake, I will not hesitate to donate your bones for science.”
“Well, I heard bone, it's already a win for me.”
You let out a sigh of exasperation. There is no reforming him.
“How was the flight?” Jake questions as you approach the baggage belt. Looking out for your somber black suitcase, you try to play it off like you did not spend the whole time in the company of a stranger who is on the fast track to your heart.
“The usual. Sleep, eat, read needlessly printed out documents that could have been shoved into on email, repeat. What about you?”
As Jake starts an account of his flight experience in exorbitant detail, you took the opportunity to try and find your ride. Once you locate it and get in, you catch the end of his sermon.
“-and the name of the book will be ‘How to manage a farm - ‘cause chicks gon’ be crazy!’. What do you think?”
“I think it was a good idea I chose to zone out.”
“Y/N come on! It’s a self-help book for poor souls born without my raw charisma. Men and women out there want me, but I can’t satisfy them all. I will just resort to making more of me! It will have pointers, DIY’s and pick-up lines crafted by yours truly - wanna hear one?”
You throw your bag in front and turn to him. “Do I have a choice? Go ahead.”
Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he starts. “Am I cute? Squish my cheeks. Am I hot? Clap my cheeks.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Points for creativity. You’ll still get wine splashed at you.”
Jake was not one to give up. “‘It’s good we don’t need eye condoms, or you’d be on your way to delivery.’”
“Just… don’t have kids, okay? This gene must be stopped, right here.”
“Okay, this one is my all-time favorite. ‘Rack so big, I don’t motorboat, I motorship.’”
That’s it. The guffaw itching you since the start of this conversation is out of its cages, populating the air in the car. Wiping stray tears from your face, you face Jake, seeming very pleased with himself. Undoubtedly, he is coming up with absurd scenarios to ease your nerves. No book is in the works (one could only hope).
“Thank you, I feel much better now. You can stop coming up with these.”
The goof has the gall to look appalled. “I was going to cut you ten percent of my book commission but I guess that’s out. Hmph.”
“I’m at the receiving end of all these pick-up lines. I should make twenty at least for all the nuisance I’ve put up with.”
“All right mami, we��ll shelve this for later. Here’s the schedule for today. You have a 10 a.m. breakfast meeting with Dr. Park Shin Young, Lead Research Scientist of the project. Then you have a bunch of seminars to attend, which will go on all afternoon. There’s a bar right beside this venue.”
“How is that pertinent?”
“So you know where to find me.” He continues, unperturbed. “After which there’s an evening meeting with the whole team to demonstrate the product and a marketing meeting right after.”
“Am I required for the marketing meeting?” Your expertise is limited to the technical field. PR work isn’t your cup of tea, but they stubbornly demand your presence.
Jake exhales. “We’ve been through this. You CAN doze off during the meeting, but you have to be there. Just pretend you’re a college student, sitting in one class, completing assignments for another.”
“But if I’m there I feel the need to pay attention.” you whine.
“Clearly you weren’t one of those college students,” Jake says, perusing through his diary, “Stop being a pedant and do one of those things people do. Loving their jobs and whatnot.”
Before you can retort a reply, the driver pulls up to your destination and you exit the car.
Eleven at night is when you finally check in to the hotel. The tedious day warrants your heels coming off before you even reach your floor. There’s an irritant drumming, from the balls of your feet right up to your temples, that beg for your attention. Setting your footwear on your bags, you massage your feet for temporary relief as the lift took you closer to a more permanent one.
Once your suitcase gets parked in the closet, you head to the bathroom to soak your day away with the bath bomb kit you were gifted in one of the seminars. The ball fizzles as soon as it hits the water, dispersing in tiny bubbles and a heady aroma of vanilla and lavender. The soft amber tones of the walls, the lambent gold lighting, and the ambrosial air put all your senses at ease. You sink in; the bathwater permeating warmth through your skin. Crackling bubbles with every move; the water teases your neck, soothing the laceration with every lick. Every pulse point on you is enhanced - you let yourself float wherever your mind takes you.
A familiar face makes its presence known. You allow yourself to think about him, after pushing his visage away all day. Something about him… felt like home. Soothing, comforting, always speaking in dulcet tones unless something humorous pulled out a loud laugh. Even that wasn’t jarring; it was the exact opposite. Felt like sunshine filled your lungs every time he cracked up. Made you want to keep talking to him, keep him amused and entertained. You can’t imagine he converses with every stranger like that.
But maybe he did; maybe this is some unspoken celebrity culture you were unaware of.
All you know is that this was a once in a lifetime experience. There’s no way you are encountering another personage ever again. There’s no way you’re encountering him again. Luck can only thrive so far.
So when you exit the bathroom, clad in a towel, remnant bathwater dripping from every end, the last thing you expect is Jungkook, spread out on the bed, casually flipping through his phone like it’s his own abode.
“J-Jungkook?”
Y/N. In his room. In a towel. Dripping wet hair. Emanating a delectable aroma.
Y/N. In person.
He is dreaming. He has to be. He's been thinking of you ever since the flight, so now he is delusional. Nothing else. There’s absolutely no chance that you’re in his room, let alone… like this.
Right?
“What are you… what are you doing in my room?”
Wrong.
Jungkook knows he should say something. He should not be gawking at you like he is doing now. But God. You look so pretty, eyebrows arched up in confusion, jaw about to be unhinged, hands fluttering around not knowing what to do.
He forces his body to action.
"Y/N!" He exclaims, finally averting his eyes to face the wall.
Pause.
"Wait, what do you mean MY room? This is my room!"
You’re baffled. "Huh? How is that possible? This was given to me!"
“I really don’t know, Y/N, there must have been some confusion! Please, you have to believe me!”
Jungkook wants to turn around and face you. He desperately wants to clear the air. He can see that this looks bad. He obviously looks like an enamored creep, waltzing into your space. You probably think he does this all the time. Many a time people have misunderstood him, his celebrity status not earning him many points. You must think the same.
And now you’re going to tell him to get out and never see you again, he hypothesizes. His brain is working overtime trying to remedy the situation, without noticing your now relaxing demeanor.
“Oh, okay.”
“I’ll fix this, I’ll go to the reception and fix this. You don’t worry, I didn’t see anything, you can trust me, I’ll go an-”
“Hey, hey,” your tone gentle, “it’s okay, trust me. Just, let me get dressed and I’ll come down with you.”
Your soothing response almost has Jungkook on his knees. Whoever orchestrated this meet, he is just thankful for this good turn. Anyone else would go berserk, and rightfully so.
But you’re not anyone else.
He isn’t just anyone.
Technically, he isn’t a stranger, you try to justify. You should have been more shocked, enraged, or at least doubtful of his intentions. But you weren’t. You had accepted his explanation, let him stay in your room while you changed in the bathroom, and now are en-route to the main desk to rectify this error.
The air around you two is strained; he won’t even look you in the eye. Any question you have is replied to concisely, leaving no room for a chat. Nothing to disperse the tension between you two.
Like now, in the elevator, Jungkook has done the math and maintains the maximum distance between you. Opposite ends of the diagonal of this lift, his peripheral vision probably barely picks you up. However, his evasion helps in a way--you are able to study his full form.
He is dressed casually, and any lesser man would have seemed casual enough. On him, it is a whole new game. Ripped jeans hugging his sturdy legs, the slashed fabric allowing you a peek of his dangerous thighs. A plain white t-shirt tucked in to show off his lean waistline. The only thing holding you back from having a full-blown wet dream, wide awake, is his chestnut overcoat, saving his modesty and yours.
Jake was right, eye condoms are the need of the century.
To be fair, Jungkook had the worse end. He saw you scantily clad, post-bath glow and everything. You wonder what is going through his mind.
Definitely nothing like the debauchery unfolding in yours.
He has probably seen his fair share of women, and one hot to trot lady isn’t anything new. If anything, him dodging you is a sign of his civility, something you are lacking apparently--ready to jump his bones.
Stop thinking about his thighs, you whore. Get back home and trusty old Vlad the Impaler will take care of you.
The employee’s jaw almost hits the desk as Jungkook explains the situation.
“Ma’am, Sir, we are extremely sorry about this confusion. We usually keep another key for family members, but somehow you got them both. We are deeply apologetic.”
“Yes, it’s okay, I’d just like my room key now and-”
“We will give you the best of our service to make up for this disorder. Not that we didn’t plan on giving you the best anyway, but now it will be top-notch! Please allow us to have your room cleaned again ma’am. Kyuyoung-ah! Get the people to prep 5338 and set 5337 again, and add more flowers!”
“Hey, that really won’t be necessary, we can just go back and forget about all thi-”
“And!” She continues, relentless, fully intent on doing her job, “Here are coupons for our round the clock pub! The ambiance is phenomenal, and our bartender makes a mean drink! You can use the facility for free during your stay. Hope this compensates for our gaffe. Once again, we are extremely sorry!”
She extends two passport-sized coupons that you hurriedly grab, wanting this quandary to end.
The walk back to the elevator is less tight-lipped, only because Jungkook starts his deluge of apologies. Even though you had felt the same way on the flight, he was going overboard. You quickly assuage him and deflect his concerns.
“It’s okay, Jungkook. It really is. I know it was a mistake.”
“I know, but I shouldn’t have just walked in like that. I should have checked.”
Your expression is the visual form of a question mark.
“Do you go around making sure your hotel room doesn’t have a surprise occupant?”
You’re taking this too lightly; it's obvious you are doing it for him. He can only laugh, broad delicious shoulders loosening in relief.
After a delay, you add, “You can’t help it if fate wants us crossing paths like this.”
The quip makes Jungkook lose a beat. He cocks a brow in surprise - at that juncture, his features lose all boyish charm and turn unquestionably irresistible.
Then, in a flash, the expression is replaced by his usual grin, back to his boy-next-door spirit. Are there world records for this speed? Jungkook needs to sign up to one.
Collecting the stars floating around your head, you return the favor, thankful that the barrier is now broken.
After a quick break of courage gathering, you turn to him. “How come you’re staying in this hotel? Thought you’d be home.”
A thought is building in your mind; that this is too personal a question. But before you can take it back, you hear a chime. Jungkook moves. And somehow, you are moving with him.
The elevator door opens, and people walk out.
But that’s not where your attention is.
You are focused on the sole patch of your body in contact with Jungkook’s arm.
The palm of his hand sitting at the small of your waist is what had guided you away from the elevator. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, his hand is sending goosebumps all over your body. The air feels twenty degrees too hot for you.
Jungkook is simply being his chivalrous self, while you are ready to get arrested for public nudity.
Woman, you are a disgrace. Get laid.
Jungkook will high five himself once he gets to his pad.
Is it right to get so euphoric about the smallest act of intimacy? That too with a near stranger? He has no answer. You are special to him; that much he knows. And someone up there agrees with him as well, letting him run into you again (albeit under crude circumstances; he’ll take what he gets). In this proximity, he can hear the slight gasp that escapes you once you recognize his hold, feel your muscles tense, smell the flowery fragrance you still carry. The fragrance that takes his mind on a rewind routine; one he forces to a halt. He feels lewd for taking pleasure in that misfortune, but he can take pleasure in the present.
Entering the elevator, Jungkook has taken note of one thing: the roles have been reversed. On the downward voyage, it had been him avoiding you. Now, even with the closeness, you refuse to meet his eye. Something on the carpeted floor has your unrelenting attention. Letting his gaze dip to you, he bit back a smirk. Good to know you are as affected by him as he is by you.
“It’s a shoot.”
You relent, looking up to him. “Huh?”
“You asked me why I’m here, it’s a shoot. The site is close by, so we don’t waste time traveling. Once the shoot is done, we will get back home.”
“Ah, that makes sense.”
You beg your grey matter to find some topic of conversation to halt the blood rushing to your cheeks. The atmosphere is frozen again, but not like last time. Any unease earlier present has drifted. The tension that once kept you from closeness now keeps you from moving apart. His hand sits unmoved, continuing to rest on your hip. Jungkook can hear the loud thudding of a heartbeat, but he cannot discern whether they are from his heart or from yours.
Continuing after a pause, “I will be here for a few days now.” he adds, the suggestive hint of the words masked by his innocuous smile.
“Ah.” You lamely add. You ought to kick yourself - but at this closeness, you might hit him too.
The span of your separation is contracting, even though none of you move. Like the land underneath you is shifting, because even Mother Earth can’t handle the sexual tension in this confined space.
“Ma’am, Sir, you’re here!”
The booming voice of an employee disrupts the scene. You jump, wondering how you didn’t hear the door open, while Jungkook takes a graceful step back unscathed.
“Your rooms are ready, please follow me.”
The walk back is quiet, except for bashfully exchanged glances and racing pulses. When you finally reach your respective rooms, he speaks again.
“Want to accidentally cross paths with me at the bar?”
The heat reaches your ears. A moment of silence prompts you to look up, and you are held hostage by his eyes. His gaze flickers, intense and probing. Then, as if it never happened, his eyes narrow and his smile softens, harmless and easy. Again, this has to be witchcraft.
“Maybe we’ll let destiny decide. Hasn’t failed us so far.”
Now, alone in bed with nothing but your thoughts, you wonder when it will ever happen again.
Three days. Three days before it happens again.
Three days filled with conferences, a ton of files, and a lot of battery acid disguised as coffee. Apart from the success of your work, the highlight of your time is when Jake tried to fix his shoe heel at a meeting and ended up gluing his fingers together. In a quiet room filled with immersed employees, he had yelled, “Superglue, my ass!”.
The punctuation was not vocalized.
Tonight was your last night in Seoul. It was supposed to be a night to yourself, but an office party pulled you out of your cavern to get dressed. You put on an elegant dress, a black and silver number, only to find the ‘party’ was the most monotonous excuse of networking. High-end businessmen exchanging cards over non-alcoholic fizz was not your idea of a party, so you quickly excused yourself.
The coupon still weighed heavy in your purse, carrying memoirs of the last time you saw him. You had wanted to go earlier, but always held yourself back. What if he wasn’t there? What if you missed your chance? Why did you have to sashay away with a cool statement that night instead of clawing your way through the lust-filled air and settling things then and there?
You supposed a drink at the hotel bar on your last night couldn’t be a bad thing, even if Jungkook didn’t show up.
So here you are, sipping on your wine and trying to appear nonchalant as you look out the window overseeing the city’s skyline. One ear is trained to the door of the pub, the slightest peep from that corner alerting your antenna.
So far, no sign of him.
This won’t work, you tell yourself. Second time’s a charm, third time’s pushing it too far.
But as you wave the bartender to top up your drink, the corner of your eye catches movement; one, two, three heads appear through the door. Signature multichromatic mops of hair make their way in, forcing your pulse to marathon mode.
And then you hear it.
You hear his trademark cachinnate echoing through the structure. Multitudes of contrasting sentiments fill your gut. Are you sensing relief, that fate served its purpose without fail? Or is it the anticipation of how events will unfold? A sense of titillation, that a three-day old bond makes you feel more than year-old relationships you’ve had? You pry your eyes from that direction, trying to appear aloof when you are anything but.
When you think you’ve gathered your composure, you look up. Like a hare falling for its bait, you are trapped, because he is looking right back at you.
Jin and Jimin are laughing about something that happened on set today, but Jungkook only has eyes for you. He can’t believe his luck.
The past few days, his schedule had no give. After every shoot, the only thing he remembered was taking off his shoes and falling into a deep slumber.
So today when the shoot wrapped up earlier, Jungkook grabbed his trusty wingmen and open bar enthusiasts to utilize his coupon, and possibly test his kismet.
“Wasn’t she on our flight?” Jin observes, tracking Jungkook’s sight.
“Oh yeah! Dude, is she the one?” Jimin keenly notes. “How do you keep bumping into each other like this?”
Jungkook downs his whisky, the burn felt from the throat to his diaphragm. “I don’t know, hyung. I don’t know what to do.” Beckoning the bartender for a refill, he tears away from your sight.
“Okay, liquid fortification is all good but how about,” Jin stops briefly to pluck the coupon out of Jungkook’s hands, “we handle the drinks department while you attend to her?”
Jimin nods in assent. “The worst thing you could do is spend time with her slurring and garbling while she ditches your sorry ass.”
“Hey! I won’t do that. Just, ” Jungkook gulps, “I don’t know... We’ve met like, hardly a few times. It really doesn’t make sense. What if we’re not on the same page?”
Jimin frowns, and even Jin seems unhappy with his reasoning.
“Things don’t have to make sense. You’re two consenting adults. You like her. By the way she’s eyeing you right now, I’m sure the feeling is mutual. You said it’s easy to talk to her right?”
Jungkook pouts, but sees his point.
“Then go with that. Don’t chart out a plan, just go with your heart.” Jin adopts a soft smile of encouragement.
“Meanwhile we will grab the others and exploit this coupon to the full extent!” Jimin gleefully appends.
Jungkook’s eyes crinkle as he laughs with the other two. They are right. Carpe diem, right?
Finding you again, his breath hitches. You look beautiful. The sleek black dress with silver embellishments over the torso. It hugs you in the right places, accentuating your already alluring frame. Your shoulders bare, elegant collarbones waiting to be tasted. Hair tied up, exposing the delicious curve of your neck, a stretch Jungkook wants to pepper kisses onto, without missing a spot. You look exquisite against the backdrop of the night.
Carpe noctem it is.
“Did you really dress up to use the coupon?” The tongue-in-cheek query breaking your line of thought.
A breathy chuckle leaves your lips, hopefully masking the frenzy in your heart.
“I had a party. A very dull party. Figured I preferred my own company over that.”
“Do you prefer your own company over mine?”
He’s still standing, tall frame waiting for your permission to occupy the next seat. God, he looks amazing.
“Not at all.” The words leave huskier than you intend, but they convey the message.
He takes the seat, a mere step away, his cologne wafting over to your side. The alcohol buzz makes the scent feel stronger, every bone in you wanting to dive in nose-first.
Apparently you have been staring, because he nervously chuckles “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Should you go the modest route or fuck it?
Fuck it.
“You look... great today,” is all you get out. Stupid brain spewing half-baked goods.
Understatement of the year. He looks like sin incarnate. All black attire highlighting his golden skin, the dichotomy of his whole look has you understandably tongue-tied. Black jeans - no rips, sadly- with a dark grey high-neck t-shirt, tucked in of course, because pain is the only constant for you. A black trench coat is thrown on top to seal the look. The obsidian outfit sends desperate need through your body, an intense desire to rip it all off surging through you. Somehow, through all these layers you can sense his fit body, his rippled muscles, his sturdy pecs, like they have an aura of their own.
“Ah, thank you. You look amazing as well.” Halting a moment to sip his drink, he resumes. “Sucks that you dressed up for nothing.”
“Well, you liked it. So it's not for nothing.”
If looks were potent, Jungkook’s own could set you on fire. Gaze coolly raking over your figure, the tick in his jaw betrays his reaction. A chill passes through every part of your body under his intense scrutiny.
“Are there other things you would wear… if I liked it?” He carefully treads.
“There are certain things I’m wearing right now that I’m sure you would appreciate.”
If not for the shrinking distance between you two, you couldn’t have caught the low hiss. His animalistic need, usually kept well under control, is raging against its bonds, screaming to let go. Your exquisite gown, flowing down your curves, accentuating the swell of your ass - God save this dress from his feral hands. Against his will, he restrains himself. He would make this a lasting encounter.
“How many drinks have you had?” He needs you to remember every single moment.
“Two glasses of wine, don’t worry. You?”
“A shot of whisky, that’s all. Haven’t even finished my second drink.”
Gone were his cherubic appearance and dimpled smiles; the man in front of you is oozing pure sex appeal. His clenched jawline, furrowed brow, and perfectly placed tresses add to his raw masculinity. The cusp of your thighs is damp; if this is his effect here, what will it be behind locked doors? You wonder whether this is the same man that gushed about old-era video games in the flight.
“Well, if you are wearing them for me, I’d be a fool to miss them.” he brings you back to the present. Twinkling eyes match your eager ones as you give a small nod.
Every step you take shoots a thrilling tingle through your spine. Every inch of distance closed forces you to close the next with doubled speed. Every foot forward adds to the thick air, laced with hunger, desire, and an inordinate amount of trust placed in the hands of a stranger.
The first time you two walked back to the elevator, his move had caught you unaware.
Now, the arm wraps around your entire waist, body flush against his, yet you yearn to get closer.
Last time, you couldn’t match his gaze, skin burnt a crimson hue.
Now, your eyes are locked together, any movement in your surroundings be damned.
Michael Jackson rising from the dead and performing Thriller wouldn’t tear you away from your current view (sorry MJ, maybe next time).
When the doors close, he places a palm on your bare back, bringing you to his chest.
“I’ve wanted this so bad, ever since I met you. It’s insane.”
The hand caressing your back makes you sigh. “Not if I wanted the same.”
His grip tightens. “The things I want to do to you...” eyes searching yours, ”tell me you can handle it.”
“Oh baby,” you drawl, “I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever it is,” your lips hover on his, “I can take it.”
The elevator doors opened too soon for your liking, and Jungkook drags you through the corridor. You’re practically hanging on to him, feet barely responsive, the faint buzz of wine making you giddy. His hawkish gaze soaks in everything you do, memorizing every response to his touch.
You lean over to lay wet kisses on his neck. Pleasure searing through his veins, Jungkook’s knees almost buckle. He pushes you against a wall and locks you in with his form.
“Uh-uh-uh, honey,” he tsks, “you’re not making this easy on me?”
You pretend to ponder. “Well, I didn’t plan on making it easy.”
He smirks, all sex, and the wetness between your legs is making its presence known. Leaning into your ear, he whispers, “Unless you want me to have my way with you right here…” and all your brattiness dissipates.
Satisfied, he grins. “Your place or mine?”
“Hmmn, depends.”
He cocks a brow. “On?”
“Am I gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”
That damned smirk. “Your place it is.”
Jungkook’s lips are on yours the moment your door is locked. He cages you against its frame, teeth clashing and biting anything they find. You let your hands roam all over, searching for something to hold on to. A throaty sound leaves Jungkook when your digits card through his hair and tug on it, a sound you gladly swallow.
Time seems to have taken a break. Your thoughts are blank. You chase the kiss like it's the only thing you know, the only thing you’re born to do, your sole mission in life before you die. The bruising pace Jungkook set is eagerly matched by you. Gravity is slowly losing its meaning, and you’re nothing but a stray entity floating in space. And this kiss is your only source of air.
Jungkook pulls you towards him, closing the nonexistent distance between you. Heat rises from his chest, the feeling is hypnotic beyond reason. A taste of you has ruined every other flavor. He kept his eyes half-open, sneaking peeks at your flushed face whenever you come for air. His fingers explored your body, grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your clothed crevice jolts at the friction, hips hounding for more.
The moan that leaves you gets muted, because Jungkook takes this opportunity to take control. Tongue forcing its way in to explore every corner of your mouth, it melds with your own muscle. If this were a dance, it would be a fierce tango, oozing with sexual tension. Breathing is now trivial, this kiss is imperative.
Jungkook’s hands grab your hips and twirl you, both of you now facing a full-length mirror. You can witness your neckline being abused, mulberry blossoms left in place. The sight has your sex clenching, and lips liberated, you couldn’t stop yourself from mewling.
“Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to make you scream so loud, the hotel reception will hear you.”
With your head spinning in lust, you try to form your words right. “An- And what? Discuss how a second room for you was - oh god - was useless?”
Jungkook pauses to admire his craft; your neck, shoulders, and collar are now littered with bruises, like a garden of hyacinth at his disposal. The view is maddening, your lusty gaze locked on to him in the mirror. His mane is tousled, no doubt your handiwork, and his hand is tracing the outline of your dress.
“That cursed day,” He chokes out, “You were so fucking hard to resist you know?”
You turn back to face him, hand reaching back to undo your halter neck, “You have me now.” Stepping back, you let your gown fall.
He froze. You are standing in front of him, robed in only your black lace-embroidered strapless bra, and matching panties, each adorned with a white bow. The swell of your breasts barely caged in the cups, making Jungkook drool at sight. All the wind was knocked out of his lungs; you look like a prisoner’s last meal, waiting to be devoured.
“On your knees.” he commands.
Not a second is put to waste. You begin undressing him, unbuckling the pants and aggressively pulling them down. Next come the boxers, and you are faced with-
Wow.
You mean this in the nicest way, but, what a dick.
He is already hard, the mushroomed tip angry and red, leaking a drop of precum begging to be tasted. The girth exceeds your expectation, already visualizing the delicious visual of your cunt stretched thin. He is going to reach places even Vlad the Impaler couldn’t; you are already brimming with anticipation for the final act.
And his thighs. Nothing angelic about them. Taut. Muscular. Sinewy. Something uncivilized in you wants them to trap your frame between them, caging you, pinning you down. You press kisses on his inner thigh, letting your tongue poke out when you hear him exhale. A sharp bite shocks Jungkook, but you only smirk.
“Wanted to do that since I saw you.”
The stare that meets you is practically challenging you to try that again, and perhaps reap some delicious consequences.
You bring yourself back, giving his cock the full attention that it deserves. Looking up, you see his half-lidded eyes, assertive and arresting, compelling you to go on.
You bring your palm up to him. He raised a brow in question.
“Spit for me.”
Jungkook almost busts his load when he hears you. “Fuck, so dirty.” he garbles out. Rolling his neck in an attempt to divert his blood, he takes your hand and drops a thick glob at the center of your palm.
A throaty moan arises from you, and his dick is harder than ever.
“Go on baby, show me you can suck dick like a champ.”
You give him a confident look; you’re about to rock his world. Starting with small licks, you tease the slit and taste the pre-cum lodged in it. Meanwhile, you work the spit along the shaft; you spit on it again, the original amount insufficient to cover the length. You can feel his dick twitching against your attention, eager to be sheathed. Interspersing with some long drags on the underside, you zero in on the pinched skin under the head.
Jungkook is staring at your jerking him off. The sight of you, clad in lingerie is blowing his mind. If that was not enough, the mirror in front is providing a sumptuous secondary perspective. The smooth stretch of your back, the swell of your ass, the panty fabric barely able to cover the expanse, everything on you is making him short circuit. Seeing you on your knees, your deferential nature stirs something in him. If he doesn’t control himself, he will bend you in half and ride you to sunrise. He doesn’t want to scare you, but fuck, his depraved early man instincts are telling him otherwise.
“What are you- ohhh, holy shi-”
Instead of slipping his cock fully into your mouth, you hold it up, and pay careful attention to his balls. Jungkook’s hands come to rest on your head, a telltale sign of his unraveling. With a smile, you let your tongue swipe through every nook and corner till they are coated in saliva.
“You think you’re such a fucking tease, ” He grabs you by your now unraveled tresses and pulls you back, “Ease up baby, your throat is in for a treat.”
In one quick swoop, he lodges himself at the base of your throat, provoking your gag reflex, but you restrain the urge to pull back. Breathing through your nose, you suck and swallow whatever you can; his girth isn't giving you much to work with.
Jungkook growls. “Such a tight fit. Like you’re meant to be like this. Forever.”
The last word slips out unwittingly.
Alarmed, his eyes flit down to gauge your response, but all you are doing is looking back at him.
Fuck, your dovelike eyes are captivating. They look so angelic, a complete contrast to the perverse posture you are in. Not an ounce of displeasure in response to his words. Pure, unadulterated affection for him. Only for him.
“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” Jungkook husks. “You’ll do anything for me, you said?”
Muffled whimpers impart your compliance, and you bob your head up and down for good measure. The tip of his cock hits every ridge of your throat, the vibration releasing more fluid down.
“Pleasure yourself, baby. Touch yourself, but don’t you cum.”
Your brow distresses further, a disgruntled whine leaving you and reverberating around him. Already so turned on, the lightest friction would make you combust.
Jungkook’s teeth clench. “Edge yourself for me, sweetie.”
It's like your body is tuned to his command. Slipping two fingers under the band, you part and slide them on either side of your throbbing nub. Despite you avoiding any pressure point that might push you over the edge, the pleasure threatens to tip you over.
You look over for his approval. Swallowing, he nods. Your self-stimulation is making him dizzy. It's time to get serious.
“Such a good girl. Don’t stop, okay? I’m going to fuck your throat raw.” Starting with mellow jerks, “Hope you don’t have to speak anytime tomorrow.” he rasps.
The carpeted floor grazing your knees only adds to the revelry. You’re not in control of yourself anymore. The back of your gullet is aching as Jungkook shoves into you again and again. An amalgamation of his salty juices and your dribble lewdly coats your chin and neck; you must look ravished. Everything with Jungkook feels augmented; every single motion of his making your sex clench.
He is close - you can feel his grip on your hair tightening.
“Can I cum on you?” words slither through his clamped teeth. You frantically nod.
With a loud grunt, he pulls you off and releases all over your chest, a stray pump landing on your chin. Thick liquid, dripping from your jaw onto your collarbones and breasts, the whole scene is filthy good. Your unfilled cunt is aching to be replete with the cum.
Post-orgasmic glow is dazzling on him--hair drenched in sweat, tufts sticking to his forehead. His breathing is heavy and resonant as dilated pupils take in your soaked state. Bending down, he crooks a finger under your chin, anchoring his attention on your dewy stare. The onyx embers in his eyes bore into yours, studying for any hesitation in them. A microscopic moment of tenderness, unspoken words exchange between you.
Satisfied to find only searing hunger, his digits collect the beads of cum on your jaw, pushing them back into your mouth. Your eyes roll skyward, relishing the briny taste, nearly asking him to do it again. Leaning further, he grabs the wrist of your hand that is thoughtlessly rubbing your sex - you didn’t even realize you were still doing it. You feel drained, like you orgasmed vicariously through him.
“My turn.” He wears a devilish expression on his archangel eyes.
Lips connect once again as he pulls you up. If he tastes himself, he is relishing it, with his tongue exploring the deep cavern. With wobbly ankles, you let him guide you to your bed, dropping on your back. He follows you, pouncing on you, plunging into your mouth again like a beast hungered. Bodies melting together like an icicle under the summer blaze, your hands hunt to frisk his skin. Realizing he is yet to undress, you yank at this t-shirt, attempting to liberate him from the offending fabric.
“Tsk, greedy.” he bit your ear, soothing the sting with a kiss.
“Cruel is what it is.” You huff, like everything he’s doing is not a blissful affair.
How do men do that? Violently ripping their shirt off and leaving a messy mop of hair in its wake, nevertheless looking like they could walk a runway the next instant. Jungkook was no exception. The moment he pulls his shirt off, you are rendered speechless.
Chiseled chest like the work of an artisan. Droplets of sweat race down the paths traced by the sculpted abs, an intense desire to taste them forming in you. He is a mesomorphic dream who puts Greek gods to shame. Swallowing, you let your hand trace the outline of his pecks, feeling him shudder against your touch.
“Jungkook, please.”
Who was he to deny you?
Leaning up to you with a wicked smirk, Jungkook drops a thick line of spit right on your hardened nipple. The concoction of his cum and spit soaks through the lacy material. A lone finger circles, avoiding the spot that requires the most attention. You arch your back, begging him for more, just more of anything. The wet fabric amplifies the emptiness in your cunt.
“Aww,” he coos, clearly amused by your neediness, “undo this for me, sweetness. Let me see you.”
Moving at lightning speed, you unhook the bra, swinging it away to a corner of the room.
“Oh no.” He mock-frowns, veins bulging on his arm as he controls himself. “Look at these tits, fuck.” Mind reeling with ideas, filthy ideas, of all the things he wants to do to you. “You’ve ruined everything else for me.”
You tremble. “Good, so have you. Want you for myself. Want you,” pulling him close, “to do your worst.” you end with a whisper.
Jungkook’s jaw tightens. “Careful what you ask for,” he grits before diving headfirst into your bosom.
He licks and laves and bites and laps--your breasts are on fire. Continuing his marking spree, new blemishes make an appearance on your torso. Nibbling on one nipple, he pinches the other; pulling moan after moan from you.
Your hips barely touch the bed, bucking up in response to Jungkook’s sinking teeth into your ample bust. He has decided to not leave an inch without his saliva, and like a man on a mission, covers every part with rapt attention.
“Yo- You don’t have to--oh holy fuck--you don’t have to, cover me in marks you kno--ohh my go-” The sentence is spastic, piercing mewls breaking your flow of speech and thought.
“These fucking tits,” roughly clasping your pert breast in his large palm, “they look so much better like this.” The proud smile he shows has not the slightest hint of regret.
Catching a break, he twiddles your nipples, letting his other hand sit on your covered sex. He is teasing you; you recognize that. Just giving you opportunities to disobey, to take all the pain he has to offer.
It’s a good thing you like the pain.
You slowly roll your hips, trying to grind against his palm, taking whatever help you can get.
A sharp smack lands on your clit, shooting your eyes open - you don’t even know when they closed. Jungkook’s hand is soothing the site of the blow, the pain converting to pleasure under his touch.
“Patience, sweetness,” the gravely whisper sending tingles down your spine, “such a good girl for me.”
You give him a slight nod - he smacks you again, once, twice, thrice, without a break. Your entrance is smarting, but you want to give him everything. Biting your lips to stop the labored moans escaping, you clench your eyes and savor the burn.
Your show of obedience has Jungkook’s heart thronging. Fuck, he was enjoying toying with you. Playing you like a fiddle. You produce every tone he desires in the form of wanton melodies, he wants to play them over and over again like his favorite song.
“How are we doing?” he asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on him. Before you could answer, his fingers shallowly enter your soaked pussy, still hampered by the cloth.
“You- fuck, you said I was the tease here?” Your hands are at his wrist, begging to pull the scrap of cloth aside and have his way.
He comes to face your sopping mound, pausing only to speak “Never said I wasn’t,” and starts pressing soft, feathery kisses. “That day, seeing you dripping in that towel, I dreamt of having these legs around me.”
“I swear, at least take it off - oh Jungkoo-”
Without warning, he kneads your ass and pushes you into his face.
You feel like you’ve been on the edge for hours. The suckle on your engorged clit along with the abrasion of the lace gets you so close. So damn close. So, so clo-
The tightness in your belly finally snaps and you howl, gushing your vat of arousal onto his face. The high was more intense than you had imagined, so high that you wonder if you will ever find your way back to reality. You feel like a rock in space, aimlessly floating in the vast nothingness.
You dimly notice Jungkook toying with the lacy hem of your panties, pulling it back to snap it against your hip. The sting is soon forgotten, along with your panties flung across the bed, as he parks himself back between your legs.
“You smell incredible.” He approves, taking a long whiff of your honeyed center. “Look at you, so messy.” He licks a long stripe along your crease. “Messy girl, I should clean you up.”
“Wait Jungkook-” you oppose, lids heaving in pleasure. “I need you inside me, please. I can’t take -oof”
Gnawing at your sodden folds, he let his nose press against your clit. “You’re so fucking tight, you think you can take me?” He shakes his head. “Gotta stretch you out, gotta make me fit.” He presses his tongue against your nub, feeling it throb in anticipation. “And I think you can give me one more.” He ends, before invading your drenched channel with two fingers. You are putting up with his torments the best you can; walls fluttering against his lips, legs entwined behind Jungkook’s back trapping him between your thighs.
“Ah! God - I, I can’t-” Your eyes are screwed shut, hands bunching the sheets in your grasp.
His fingers fluctuate between scissoring motions, their lengths opening you up for him and curling inside, fingertips finding the rough patch inside. He adds a third finger, pussy straining to accommodate them all. Your thighs clench in the burn, and he groans into your pussy at the pressure. Increasing the pace, he pumps into you harder and faster, sucking your puffy lips in tandem.
“Please, please, harder - let me cum - please oh go-”
“Fuck yeah baby, your pussy is just sucking me in. You like that? You like me shoving into your cunt?”
“Uungh yes yes I love it!”
“Doesn’t it hurt? Or are you such a slut for pain? Tell me, tell me you’re a pain slut.”
“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t you stop- I am! I am a pain slut! Your pain slut!”
“Goood girrrll,” he husks out. Even though he is taking charge, your words are what control him. “Only mine. My pain slut will come for me now.”
A spray of cum ejects out of you, coating Jungkook’s chest and inundating your legs. The coherent part in you recognizes that you just squirted, but the neanderthal side shuts all recognition of anything that is not Jungkook’s cock. Even after two climaxes, you are hungry to get more. More of him.
If you don’t fuck him now, you will lose your capability to reason.
Limbs still heavy and reeling from the ravaging, you pick your pieces and drag Jungkook to the headboard.
“I’m going to ride you.” you declare and straddle him.
Jungkook is staring fixedly at your still-leaking cunt. Running his tongue over his lower lip, and licking the remnant syrup of your release. You position yourself, letting the drippage fall directly on his erection. He twitches, eyes still feasting on the mess you are making.
Finding purchase on his shoulders, you lower yourself. Jungkook’s breath staggers as you drag your inner lips along his hard shaft. You repeat this motion till your fluids drip to his balls.
“Y/N, I swear to God, if you don’t stop with this-”
“You’ll do what?” you challenge, an eyebrow raised in response to his threat.
He grabs you by your waist, jerking you up before bringing you down on his dick. Your cunt, creamy from his earlier ministrations, gives no resistance to his hardness. His cock twitches inside as you bottom out. Pulling you closer, he bites your lip and tugs at it.
“I’ll do this.”
A sharp spank makes you clench around him, the supple flesh of your ass ricocheting in response.
“Go on baby, ride me.”
The low-grained command sets you in motion. Slowly gyrating your hips, you feel every ridge of this length inside. Jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens, and you’re sure you will see evidence of it tomorrow. Your grasp on his shoulders isn’t faring any better.
“You’re so tight, fuck, and so wet. Who made you like this, huh?” A second spank punctuating his question.
“Oh God, you-”, you barely manage to recognize your own voice, “You, Jungkook! Only you!”
“That’s fucking right, only me.”
Hips snapping, he meets you halfway. Both of you are lost in each other, lewd sounds of your skin slapping and juices quelching barely muffled by your desperate whines and moans of passion. Eyes locked in like magnets, neither of you could look away.
Jungkook pulls back a little, slapping your jiggling tit. Your sex clenches, and the following slap has you lodging yourself in the crook of his neck, searching for a reprieve.
“Want some help?”
One swift move and you are on your stomach, face pushed into a pillow, and ass out. A final spank lands right in the middle, and you can feel it pulsate everywhere. He pushes back into your glistening core, taking control of your pleasure and pain. One hand carding through the nape of your neck, pushing you down, the other hand grabbing your waist and setting the pace. The new angle hits deeper, you feel so full.
“Jungkoo--unghh I need to cum! Need to- umph- cum so bad!” You are wailing at this point, shame lying somewhere near your flung clothes.
“Fuck, babe, me too. Go ahead and play with yourself, nice and slow.”
It takes a few swipes for the tightness in you to detonate. Tears flood your face as you unravel, your orgasm crashing into you like waves of a tsunami. You clench tight, wetness flows out of your hole as Jungkook pumps in and out, chasing his high.
He comes undone soon after, ropes of his ejaculate filling your insides. He stays in, plugging you as if to not allow any of it out. But as his member softens, he gives in, turning you on your back to meet his face.
Butterfly-soft kisses are exchanged after the blazing encounter. He asks you if you’re okay between breaths, a tender murmur you almost miss, as if you weren’t screaming your lungs out moments ago. Nuzzling into his neck, you confirm.
A snort disrupts the silence. Looking up, you see Jungkook chuckling.
In response to your cocked eyebrow, he says “Want to talk about what a freak you are?”
“Want to talk about what a hypocrite you are?”
“Hey, you asked me to spit on you!”
You mock-gasp, hand on chest for the extra effect. “My breasts need medical attention after your attention! Freak!”
Laughter echoes in the room as you two tumble in the blankets, and you feel his release seeping out of you. Turning to him, you pout, “Your mess is leaking out of me.”
Jungkook gets up to leave the bed, and you expect a wet towel coming your way.
What you don’t expect is him parting your legs, gunmetal eyes following the rivulets escaping your abused hole.
“Your cunt smells so good with my cum on it,” he purrs.
He gathers the escaping thick liquid and pushes it back into your quivering core.
Jolting with oversensitivity, you try to stall him but he is fingering you with a vengeance. The ache and soreness soon dispel, bringing forth a new wave of ecstasy. His unrelenting stare concentrates on the mix of fluids on his fingers. With a few strokes on your sensitive bundle of nerves and fingers stuffed inside, you come again, legs shivering and pussy overflowing, his juices intermingled with yours.
You are dazed; you’ve lost track of everything. The room is spinning in front of you and your body feels like lead. All you can manage is to arch your neck, and plead, “No more, you freak.”
Jungkook giggles, eyes crinkling in good humor. Ah, the duality of this man is a force to reckon with. You can’t believe this is the same man that fucked you into your bed like a primordial beast. There’s no way you can move anytime soon.
After a clean-up interval, you are wrapped in each other's arms, melting into the embrace. His musky fragrance putting you at ease, you tuck your in the nook of his neck, basking in the aroma. Hands pressed against his broad chest, exuding warmth for you. His hand cradles your head, snuggling in closer till there is no space to cover. Sweet nothings whispered into each other’s lips, tender kisses exchanged in place of the scorching ones that had passed. You drift in and out of your slumber, fearing the sun would ascend too soon and break you apart.
A dim glow from the other end of the bed wakes you up. On turning you find Jungkook, dressed in his now-wrinkled clothes, seated on the edge. His gaze, pensive. You lay a hand on his thigh.
“Oh, did the light wake you?”
The alarm on his face makes you smile. “No, your absence did.”
The corners of his mouth turned up, eyeing you with softness.
“I have an early schedule. I didn’t want to wake you, but, ” he lets his palm rest on yours, “I also didn’t want to leave without it.”
Neither of you know how to walk away from this. The silence is deafening, unuttered sentiments hanging in the still air. Jungkook’s chest is heavy.
This is insane. He wants to lay you against a bed of flowers, treat you like the delicate petal you bear resemblance to, worship your body till the sun succumbs to your blazing passion. How is he to explain that his heart is beating through his chest for someone he knows for mere days? He rifles through his memories for a similar instance.
He finds none.
Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe, you are blissfully unaware of the tumultuous emotions lurching in the pit of his belly. He can’t assume you will echo his lovesick needs, but he can’t let go.
You inch closer.
Fervid feelings die hard. He probes your eyes searching for an intensity matching his.
You let your lips convey the answer.
Passionate as ever, you draw him into the kiss. His lashes flutter against your rosy cheeks. At the moment, there is no dominance in him. Almost like his tongue, dragging across your swollen lips, is healing the brutality of last night. If you pull back, he comes after you; an incessant tug of war no player wants to win.
“Please Jungkook,” you choke between kisses, “Please tell me this isn’t the last of us.”
He is hovering on top of you, the galaxy in his eyes twinkling at your words.
“Please, I don’t want this to end.” You continue against his lips. Head versus heart, you fought a losing battle; how were you to stall the inevitable? Fueled, you plunge your tongue into him, determined to make your ardor known. The void of ferocity is filled with slow sensuality; like he is the sole reservoir to quench your thirst.
“Y/N”, he breathes out, “I feel like I know everything about you and nothing about you at the same time.” Resting your foreheads against one another, he continues. “I’m not about to let fate decide when we cross paths again.”
A grin finds your lips. “Destiny really pulled its weight here, didn’t it?”
He wordlessly nods, not wanting to break the tranquility in place. However, it is short-lived; his phone’s ringer makes sure of it.
“Yeah, I’ll be right down.” Something the speaker says turns Jungkook scarlet red. “I said I’ll be right there!” he yells before ending the call.
“The members are asking why I wasn’t in my room.” he clarifies, waggling his brows. You join his laughter, happy to have just the simple moment with him.
After exchanging numbers (and a photo for keepsake), Jungkook presses one last kiss, lips promising to find each other again. Somehow, you don’t say goodbye. You just stare at his disappearing body, confident that the next encounter is not far.
Jake is babbling about his night, how he managed to ditch the god-awful party and hang out with some overenthusiastic college-goers who paid for his drinks with their trust fund dough. This is usually the time you ask him if he’s proud of mooching off of children, but today his exaggerated narrative is cracking you up.
His forehead creases. “What’s up with you today? You haven’t vowed to skin me alive even once.”
“You like it when I threaten bodily harm?”
“I’m kinky like that.”
You just shrug. Erotic images make a fleeting appearance in your mind, but they are interrupted by your flight announcement.
“Aren’t you glad this is over? You can go back to overworking yourself in your office instead of a hotel!” Jake remarks, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “At least your back won’t break in the travel.”
Thinking over your experience in the city, you confess “Actually, I look forward to returning here.”
A thought slips in, curving your mouth into a smile. You quietly add,
“And yeah, my back was broken all right.”
Thank you for making it to the end! Please do let me know what you think!
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your yandere dabi with his kid was so good holy shit. It's the domestic setting but its just painted over the lingering fear in the air. Goddamn. Like some thoughts of mine are just dabi's kid asking how "mama and papa met" and what kind of practiced answer dabi or his darling gives. OOOHHH, or maybe dabi's kid asks dabi why "mama always looks empty" when darling is at that stage where they're just a numb, hollow, broken, shell of the person who does the dishes with a glazed, distance stare in their eyes. OKAY THESE ARE JUST MY THOUGHTS, FASDHJK YOUR FIC WAS SO GOOD.
Poor kid doesn't understand why mama always jumps and gets scared when they or Papa hug her from behind. I mean...Papa IS scary sometimes. But he loves them both soooo much! That's why he does bad things, since people don't want him and his friends to be happy because they're different.
Sometimes they go to Mama and Papa when they have bad dreams. But sometimes when they can hear Mama or Papa (usually Mama) having a bad dream, they'll waddle into their room and climb in bed to make them feel better.
They learn very quickly from Mama that whenever they smell smoke and Papa's smiling in that "special way", he's REALLY mad and the two of them need to make him feel better. Otherwise he's scarier than usual. But he's always nice whenever he feels better. He'll get Mama clothes and books and movies and stuff, and he'll get their kid toys and sweets! He explains that he's not good at saying sorry, so he does it with presents and being extra sweet. Papa's kind of weird and definitely scary sometimes, but he still loves his family and is a nice guy deep down.
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❝ idk you yet ❞ - p.js
park jisung x reader | angsty, fluff | 1.6k words
WARNINGS | TW: mentions blood, abuse, drug and alcohol abuse, smoking, lowercase au, non-idol au, high school au, badboy!jisung, mature language/cursing, reader is like an angel sent from heaven for him, jisungie just in need of love :(
SUMMARY | being an outcast has him wondering if he’ll ever be happy. cue you, the new girl, stumbling into his life (literally).
AUTHOR’S NOTE | inspired by the song “idk you yet” by alexander23! also AHHH this is my 100 followers special fic :) THANK U LOVES FOR 100 IM SO SHOCKED CJSBFKEJD <33 the writing is a little crappy because i’m currently on my period and my patience for sitting down and writing this went down halfway through lol but I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, ENJOY THIS JISUNG FIC BC JISUNG MY BABIE AND SO ARE YOU GUYS!
whenever anybody thinks of park jisung, they think of the chains and dark clothing he wears. they think about the faint smell of smoke and men’s cologne that follows him wherever he goes.
they think of the boy who grew up on the wrong side of the tracks.
but what they don’t think about are bruises on his face he fails to hide whenever he walks into school, the dejected look on his face whenever random people give him disapproving looks, the way his smile slowly faded into a permanent frown wherever he went.
jisung quickly accepted his reputation at school and in their little town, not having enough energy to feel insecure about it like before.
the only group of people that even remotely cared about the boy were his best friends in the whole entire world, nct dream.
they were outcasts just like him, the most “fucked up group of boys” in their town (the people’s words, not theirs).
see, they were your typical bad boy group straight out of your typical fanfic. bad grades, smoking in their free time, getting into fights, always being late to class; not a single person had hope in them.
but behind their scary and intimidating facade, all seven boys were big softies with misunderstood hearts and difficult backgrounds.
people were just too dense to look into it, only judging them based on their looks and personality on the outside.
❝ how can you miss someone you’ve never met ❞
love was a foreign thing to jisung, the only form of love he’s ever felt being from his friends. his parents were… interesting to say the least.
jisung’s father was a hard-core alcoholic, his mother being a major druggie. with no siblings in the house, jisung was usually their main target to push around and beat up.
and so because of this at a young age jisung learned to distance himself from other people and found different ways to release stress.
he started smoking when he was 14, the warm and hazy feeling of the smoke entering his lungs comforting him.
if jisung humored himself enough, maybe smoking could count as his first love. it was always there for him, never leaving him alone even if he wanted to quit.
he relied on it knowing it was the only constant in his life.
now of course the boy has heard of proper love, love like in the movies or shitty romance songs he hears on the radio.
and he won’t lie, there were moments he thought about what it felt like to be in love. but he knew that would never happen, at least not in their small town anyways.
he just wanted to be loved.
jisung would never admit it but sometimes he’d be jealous of the old couples walking down the street in their own world like it was just them two against the universe. he was jealous of the happy kids running around, their mother’s and father’s fondly smiling at their child. he was jealous of all the “normal” kids in his neighborhood.
jisung wanted that, craved that.
but most importantly, the boy wanted love.
❝ cause i need you now but i don’t know you yet ❞
everything hurt.
his head, his body, his mind, his heart; everything was in pain.
jisung walked down the empty streets of their city, a trail of blood following behind him as he accepted his fate. the boy was 99% sure he had a concussion and at the very least had a few broken ribs.
he felt like this was the end, and he was ready.
-
wandering aimlessly around town, you decided to take a late night walk to familiarize yourself around the area. you had just moved into the city a week ago, spending all seven days trying to help your family unpack and rearrange your cozy new home.
now that you were finally free of the smell of tape and the dust of the boxes, you decided it was best to get to know the place you were living in.
the autumn air seemed to settle at night as you shivered, cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket of some sort. the sight of a convenience store up ahead of you brought you relief as you rummaged through your pockets wondering if you had enough money for ramen.
your steps became excited as you found a couple dollars, fondly thinking about what type of ramen you should buy. you became so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even notice the poor boy who was staggering in front of you, or the trail of blood he left behind.
-
jisung pushed himself to reach the convenience store a couple feet away from him, in desperate need of supplies to at least try and fix himself.
if it didn’t help in any way then oh well, maybe death was indeed an option.
grinding his teeth though the pain, he did not expect to feel a small body bump into him. had he been at his regular health, jisung would’ve easily been able to keep still but because of how much blood he was losing the boy was knocked down like a bowling pin.
“holy fuck.” jisung cursed the feeling of the concrete floor colliding with his ribs. he didn’t even notice the girl who had bumped into him sitting on the floor dumbfounded, freaking out over his state.
“oh my fucking god.” the girl said, capturing his attention. jisung glared at the stranger, mentally acknowledging the fact she was pretty.
but her being pretty won’t get you anywhere, he scolded himself. she’ll leave you just like everyone else.
“a-are you okay?” she said, eyes glancing at his black eye. jisung rolled his eyes, already annoyed. “does it look like i’m okay?” he replied, his deep voice catching the girl off guard.
“just, fuck off.” jisung said closing his eyes as he laid back down on the floor, knowing he couldn’t force himself to get up anymore. he didn’t even have to open his eyes to know she left, hearing the sound of her footsteps walk away.
the boy sighed as he laid idly on the floor, wondering what sin he committed to lead him to where he is now. not even she wanted to stay, the tears threatening to fall as his thoughts buried him alive.
“why can’t i just die?” jisung said out loud, asking no one but himself.
“because i won’t let you.” a voice replied as jisung forced himself to sit up in confusion. it was the same girl he had bumped into, but this time she had a first aid kit with her. he gave her a lost look despite knowing what she was here to do.
jisung’s mind just couldn’t wrap around the fact that a total stranger would even bother to help him.
“now sit up.” she said softly as she bent down to open the box, the boy slowly followed her instructions. “i’m sorry this might sting.” she said though jisung didn’t mind because she was much prettier up close.
-
the next ten minutes were you trying to fix his wounds against the shitty chairs outside the convenience store.
jisung didn’t even bother mentioning his broken ribs, not wanting you to freak out. you cleaned up what you could and the boy was beyond grateful for that.
you subconsciously rubbed his back in a comforting way whenever you’d apply alcohol to his open wounds, trying to ease the sting. you held his hand for him to hold and though he was a big boy and had a high pain tolerance, he still gave it a squeeze just to keep your hand there.
what the actual fuck is this feeling, jisung asked himself as he watched your determined figure work on him.
it was cold and in order to better work on his wounds, the boy offered to give you his hoodie which strangely had no traces of blood on it. you gladly accepted, the faint smell of blood and his cologne engulfing you up.
the sight of you in something so big and so him made his chest swell in pride.
jisung couldn’t even formulate a sentence as you cursed at the time once you finished patching him up, fleeing the scene before he could say anything with a small smile, his hoodie still on.
❝ and can you find me soon because i’m in my head ❞
the thought of your soft hands on his, your voice, your whole presence; everything about you couldn’t seem to leave the poor boy’s mind. it was now monday, and waiting for his class to start already made him want to go home.
if only i got her name, jisung daydreamed with his head resting on the palm of his hand. the classroom was loud and bright, people occasionally giving him looks but the boy didn’t mind.
“jisungie~ did you hear we have a new kid?” jaemin asked, poking the boy’s cheeks. the boy only gave him a pointed look before sighing.
“hyung i don’t really care.” jisung replied, looking back out the window.
jaemin only gave him an offended look before grumbling a bit. “i don’t know maybe you will.” he muttered under his breath as their teacher walked into the room.
❝ yeah i need you now but i don’t know you yet ❞
their homeroom teacher stood in front of the class, jisung tuning out his voice. the boy once again sighed as his teacher called for their attention, explaining they had a new girl in their class. “now make her feel welcomed,” he said before turning towards the door.
“y/n, please come in.” the teacher said and jisung almost fell out of his seat when he saw you walking through the door with the same smile you gave him a couple days ago.
“hi i’m y/n and i hope we can get along.” you bowed to the class, a familiar hoodie you were wearing catching his attention.
isn’t that mine, jisung thought to himself as he bit back a smile knowing you kept it all along.
#park jisung#park jisung x reader#park jisung x y/n#park jisung fanfic#park jisung imagine#park jisung imagines#nct dream#nct dream x reader#nct dream x y/n#nct dream fanfic#nct dream imagine#nct dream imagines#haung renjun#lee jeno#lee mark#lee haechan#lee donghyuck#na jaemin#zhong chenle#nct angst#nct 127#wayv#nct 127 imagine#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 fanfic#nct 127 x reader#nct 127 x y/n#huang renjun x y/n#huang renjun x reader#lee jeno x reader
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my gift for the wonderful @lotsofquestionslimitedanswers as part of the @starrynightdeancas gift exchange! i hope you love this sweet bit of fluff as much as i loved writing it <3
also available on ao3
Cas has fought celestial battles. He has seen the rise and fall of human civilizations, he has razed cities and healed kings, and he has been the only thing outside of God’s control. Yet somehow, someway, he is being bested by a pan of scrambled eggs.
He lets out a string of curses he would never have even dreamed of fifteen years prior, and carefully carries the smoking pan to the trash can. He dumps as much of the blackened lump as he can unceremoniously into the trash can and sticks the pan, still coated in bits of burned eggs, back on the stove.
Cas is trying to make breakfast to bring to Dean in bed. He’s doing okay, he thinks, except now there just won’t be any eggs. Or pancakes. (Cas actually thought the batter turned out pretty nicely, but when he went to pour the first bit into the pan, his hand slipped—he spent a good twenty minutes cleaning all of that up.) At least there’s still bacon. Shit, the bacon!
Cas rips the oven open, still cursing, and just barely remembers to put an oven mitt on before he pulls the pan out. Thank God, the bacon is on just the right side of burnt, sizzling and crispy but not blackened yet. He breathes a sigh of relief, and sets the pan down carefully beside the other on the stove. Well, Dean’s always enjoyed bacon the most—if breakfast is just that, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
Cas figures he can at least make some toast to go with it. Unfortunately, he forgot to buy more bread at the store yesterday, so there are only three pieces left, two of which are end pieces. He toasts them all, gnawing on a thumbnail and trying to convince himself that Dean won’t hate all of this.
Cas has only been back, free from the Empty and fully human, for a month. It’s been a good month, mostly, full of reunions and laughter and slowly but surely figuring things out. He and Dean share a bed now, share a life in a way they never did before, and it’s good. Cas is learning to be human again, and every step of the way, Dean is with him, endlessly patient and gentle with all of it, seemingly happy just to be with him at all. And Cas gets to kiss Dean when he wants, gets to hold his hand and brush his fingertips along the crinkles at the corners of Dean’s eyes, and every day, he gets to tell Dean he loves him.
The only problem, really, is that Dean hasn’t said it back yet.
Cas knows Dean loves him. It’s clear now—it was clear from the moment he stumbled out of the Empty and into Dean’s trembling arms—and Cas understands that Dean shows it in different ways than words. He shows it in the way he sat with Cas for an hour helping him learn to tie his shoes, the way he makes PB&Js without complaint whenever Cas requests them, the way he slides his hand into Cas’s while driving and runs his thumb back and forth along Cas’s palm. Regardless of whether he says it out loud, Dean loves Cas with such ferocity that Cas sometimes worries he can’t match it.
So Cas is doing what he can: he’s making breakfast in bed.
He arranges the limited food on an old wooden tray, along with two mugs of steaming coffee and a jar of Dean’s favorite apricot jelly that he did remember at the store. Cas studies his handiwork critically, then adds a few napkins (amidst all the change, Dean remains a very messy eater). The end result looks nice, Cas thinks. Better than he worried it might, at least.
Slowly, carefully, Cas makes his way out of the kitchen, and to the bedroom he now shares with Dean. The door is cracked from when Cas left earlier, and he can see the corner of the bed, the way Dean’s pulled all the blankets over to his side. Cas smiles at how familiar that’s become lately—it seems that with the luxury of his own bed, Dean is loath to share the covers; Cas steals them back all night long, but it works out because Dean puts up with his kicking.
He creeps in and sets the tray down on his bedside table. Then, unable to resist, he slips back under the covers and wraps his arms around Dean. Dean stirs somewhat awake, and wiggles back into Cas with a satisfied hum.
“Morning, sunshine,” Dean says sleepily. “Where’ve you been? ’S early.”
“Uh, I was…” Cas glances back at breakfast, and he thinks it looks measly now, small and poorly put together. “I made breakfast. For you to eat in bed.”
“...You made me breakfast in bed?”
“Yeah,” Cas says quietly, tucking his face in Dean’s neck, enjoying the closeness but also trying to hide his embarrassment. “Is that okay?”
“What? ‘Course it is.” Dean sounds like he’s smiling, and Cas can see it in his mind’s eye, that dreamy thing that only comes out when Dean is extremely relaxed. “It’s sweet.”
“Sweet,” Cas says, testing the way the word feels in his mouth.
“Yeah.” Dean’s still half-asleep, unfiltered and unencumbered in a way he rarely is, even now. “You’re real sweet to me, Cas. Always are.”
“Even though the breakfast isn’t good?”
“What?”
Cas sighs. “I messed up the pancakes and the eggs, and there wasn’t enough bread. It doesn’t look good like it does when you make breakfast.”
“I don’t care about that,” Dean says, a little more awake, his voice sure and strong. “I’d eat concrete if you made it for me.”
At that, Cas feels the knots in his stomach begin to unwind, feels his heartbeat slow to match Dean’s. He kisses the back of Dean’s neck, lips lingering on sleep-warm skin. Dean shifts closer.
“We’d better get up,” Dean murmurs. “Don’t want the coffee to get cold.”
“Or the bacon.”
“You made bacon?” Dean sits straight up in bed, sniffing around in the air like a bloodhound and apparently completely awake. Cas rolls his eyes and flops over into the warm spot he left behind, pulling the covers up and over himself again. “I can’t believe I didn’t smell that. Damn, Cas. You outdid yourself.”
“I don’t know about that,” Cas says. He peeks around the blankets as Dean grabs the tray and settles it over his legs eagerly. “It’s not—”
“Oh hell yeah!” Dean looks down at him with a brilliant smile that seems to make everything else around them go dim. “You got the apricot jelly stuff?”
“Yeah.” One thing Cas had done right. “I picked some up at the store the other day. I know it’s your favorite.”
Inexplicably, Dean’s ears go red. “Thanks, Cas.”
“Of course.” Cas sits up and studies Dean’s face like he has for years. Dean’s expression is a little difficult to read, but he’s still smiling. Cas feels himself start to smile, too. “So this is okay? You like it?”
“Dude.” Dean looks at him incredulously, but it’s good-natured, fond. “You’re as bad as me. I’m telling you, this is great. I don’t think I’ve ever had breakfast in bed before. And it’s…” Dean goes red again, this time all the way to the apples of his cheeks, but he continues on valiantly. “Nobody’s ever done the shit you do for me. And I’m so fucking lucky, it’s ridiculous, and I…” The hush of their bedroom seems to grow, to expand, as Dean glances at the tray then back at Cas with some huge emotion behind his eyes. “I love you.”
Cas blinks. “You—”
“I love you.” Dean says again.
“You love me,” Cas repeats breathlessly. He knew it would come eventually, he did, but this—this is worth the wait.
“I love you.” Dean laughs like he can’t quite believe it, like he’s so happy it’s ridiculous, it’s impossible. “Holy shit, there it is. I said it. I love you. You made me breakfast in bed, and I fucking love you.”
Cas surges up, unable to hold himself back any longer. He takes Dean’s face in his hands and kisses him as deeply as he can, as deeply as he’s ever wanted to. Dean is surprised at first, but meets Cas in the middle like he always does, takes what Cas gives him and then takes some more. They only separate when the tray is in danger of tipping all of their breakfast over onto the floor.
“Let’s eat first?” Dean says sheepishly. “And drink the coffee?”
Cas’s face hurts from how hard he’s smiling. “Yeah. Okay.”
So they sit side-by-side in bed on top of the covers, sharing bacon and toast, sipping coffee between secret little smiles, and Cas relishes every bit of it, every human moment. He watches Dean chew, enraptured by the image he makes: the sunlight behind his head a halo, the holiness of his soft grey shirt and sleep-mussed hair, and all of it, eclipsed the golden shine of a soul Cas can no longer see but can feel—even in his humanity, he knows he can feel it.
“I love you,” Cas says.
And when Dean says it back, his face is more beautiful than anything in heaven.
#starrynightdeancas gift exchange#deancas#destiel#deancas fic#destiel fic#spn#del's writing#offbeattraxx#userzaddy#gardenercas
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