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be-my-ally · 1 year

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I wouldn't tell you no lie

innocent reader x elvis request.

pairing: afab!reader x elvis (’68-71 elvis described; as in the pics below)

warning: 18+, 18+, innocence kink, first times - reader gives elvis a handjob - with the promise of more in the future, and is kissed for the first time.

summary: innocent reader has been very sheltered but is now on tour with Elvis, she’s never been allowed to even look at the body of a man but accidentally walks in on Elvis changing and has questions - questions that Elvis is only too happy to answer.

wc: 4.2k

I watched girl happy three times while writing this for absolutely no reason; title is from ‘cross my heart and hope to die’ so that’s probably suggested listening.

also while I have everyone's attention I just wanted to say thank u to everyone for being so lovely + supportive with my silly little fics + a thank u for 200 followers!!!

You nod at Sonny on the way in, who offers you a slightly mischievous grin in response as you walk past. You wonder what kind of set-up you’re walking into; the boys, well, men, but boys, were known for their practical jokes and you had been jumped out at more than a fair few times. So you’re tense when you walk into the hotel room — Elvis was expecting you, or so you thought, and you were surprised when you walk in and you’re the only one in there, not even Elvis to be seen. But as you look around, ducking to check under the bed just in case he was planning on trying to scare you, you suddenly hear his voice from the bathroom, singing in the shower. It’s gorgeous, and not at all rushed, you can hear him repeating verses and changing the scale and pitch as he goes. You consider if you should just leave at this point; you’d only wanted him for a quick question about the arrangements for tonight but who knows how long he’ll be now. But then you think how weird it would be for him to know you were here but had gone before you had the chance to talk to him. So instead of leaving you plop yourself down on one of the couches to wait.

You glance around the room — it’s a lot nicer than yours, and although it’s probably one of the smaller rooms that he’d been put in recently it’s still pretty large. Just the one room rather than a suite; a large king bed and dressing area on one side of the room along with a tv facing the bed, and a full living area — complete with couches and a coffee table at the other end. You’re considering what to tell your mama when she rings this evening; since joining the tour you’ve had to …amend some of your tales of your days to her, knowing that some of the antics that go on would be enough for her to demand you come home immediately if she were to find out. But you’re not a good liar - you have to plan what to say to her.

Elvis walks out of his bathroom, towel slung low around his hips. You gape at him from the couch, twisting to peer over the back at him; looking at his still damp and glistening chest and arms, his hair wet and slicked back, off of his face, pink from the heat of the shower — which you could feel in the steam that escaped through the open door when he emerged. There didn’t seem to be much point to the towel as barely a moment later he was throwing it aside, peering in the closet to find his clothes while completely nude. He doesn’t notice you sat on the couch waiting for him, and you hesitate to draw attention to yourself now - you’re blushing and mortified at what you’ve just seen; the behind of a man’s naked body. Wet and pink, the movement of his muscles as he bent over; his ass — the only reference point you had was in comparison with your own; his looked much firmer and solid, or with statues you’d seen in textbooks; his looked softer, but not too dissimilar. You’re trying not to stare, you know you shouldn’t even be looking, but you also can’t help that your curiosity is getting the better of you.

You’re mentally debating what to do and what your options are when he turns around again, and before he spots you, you spot it, hanging gently between his legs and you can’t hold back your gasp. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen one in real life, even the anatomical sketches in textbooks often being taken out of your hands by your over-zealous mother, it wasn’t something girls like you needed to worry about until you were married; she wasn’t risking that you were going to become one of those outrageous free-love hippy types. You struggle to even name it in your head, euphemisms coming to the forefront and your brain has to scream — be an adult, it’s just a penis, at you as you struggle to think beyond childish words. Despite this thought running through your head a glance is all you’re allowed - your gasp having alerted him to your presence. Immediately his head swings up to look at who’s in his room. He goes through phases of extreme body shyness and body confidence - often depending on his weight, but at the moment he’s fit and healthy and keen to show off. So he doesn’t immediately go to cover up, but you can see his brain whirring thinking of the insult he’s about to shout at whoever he thinks it was intruding; Jerry maybe, he’s never far away, or Sonny from outside. However, upon seeing it’s you he swears, grabbing the towel off the floor and wrapping it around his hips again. You know you should have immediately looked away, but you couldn’t help but continue to stare as he moves, as it moves with him, until he’s all covered up again.

“Goddamn, honey, give a man a heart attack sat all quiet like a mouse there like that.” His voice is quiet, but amused, and pulls you away from where you’re still staring at his now towel-covered crotch. You stutter through an apology;

“Oh, uh, oh, I’m so sorry, oh gosh - sorry! So sorry!” He laughs, and you’re distracted enough now to look at his face. It doesn’t help a whole lot, you’ve always liked how he looks - you’ve always thought he had kind eyes and a smile that made your tummy tingle but with how he looks at the moment, his cheekbones so prominent and his sideburns starting to accentuate his face even more you find yourself thinking that you like this iteration of him an awful lot; perhaps the strange feelings from your look at him a moment ago have preoccupied your mind too much - you’re suddenly unable to think of much else but how handsome he looks. You blush even harder than you were before - you can feel the heat rising off of your cheeks.

“Give me a second hon,” and he disappears into the bathroom with his clothes again, you’re shielding your eyes when he comes back, both out of embarrassment and concern that something similar may happen again, “S’ok baby, I’m decent enough now.” He smiles at you, and you lower your hands to see that he was, indeed, now fully dressed. He’s put on one of the drawstring shirts he’s been so fond of recently, the top loose and open - the hard line of his chest peeking out of the large open collar. But you were at least used to the sight of that; it had shocked you at first, but now you’ve been around for a few weeks you had grown used to it. He’s buckling a pretty gaudy belt on top of his fitted, slightly flared, black trousers as he walks out. He’s acting as if nothing had happened - continuing to go about his business putting on cologne and his jewellery, necklaces now hanging down in the open collar. He looks back at you through the mirror on the dressing table that was at an angle, allowing him to see you still peering over the back of the sofa.

“What did you need honey?” You’ve always found yourself a little giggly around him, a little desperate for his attention and you’ve always understood that was partly because he was so attractive, and partly the force of his personality. But now, knowing what he looks like underneath his clothes has, for some reason, made your mouth go dry as you look at him. You try to recall the reason you were there but it had completely escaped you, and rather than answer his question you had to ask a burning one of your own -

“I came to see if you, if you wanted - El, what - what was that … between your legs?” He pauses. Staring back at you in the mirror,

“What do you mean? It was my dick baby,” You gasp, but you’re pleased to know that your earlier thoughts had been correct.

“Is that - that’s what they look like?” He’s shocked and he turns around to face you, properly, but he’s also smiling like he’s just heard an amusing joke.

“Well, some of ‘em are quite a lot smaller, but yeah it’s pretty typical looking, for… for an unc-, no yeah it’s pretty typical.” He looks down, and you can see him thinking about something but he doesn’t expand any further, crossing his arms and leaning against the table.

“So, do you not… you don’t have a kitty like I do down there?” He frowns at you, shaking his head, he’d thought you were playing with him a moment ago, but now he’s not too sure; “Like at all?” He laughs,

“No honey, no, uh that’s uh - that’s how boys and girls are different - you got a set of holes in your kitty, and we got… we got penises and uh, balls.” You nod, you already knew that, of course, but you hadn’t known it was just one or the other - you’d always assumed that men just had, extra equipment to yours. You start to think of things to say to change the subject, satisfied to finally understand the difference between men and women, before a thought pops into your head that you have to ask while you have him in front of you and willing to tell you things others never did. You wrinkle your nose asking;

“Well then … how d’ya pee?” He laughs, coming towards you and sits down on the couch next to you while he thinks of how to respond,

“What do you me- do you think you pee out of the same place?” You nod, of course. He laughs at you, his eyes crinkling as he shakes his head,

“Um no sweetheart, You uh, you have a separate little hole; gonna have to get you a mirror and have you take a look baby - but I, well I pee out of a little slit at the head.” You don’t believe him — you know where you pee from, and it’s the same place that gets wet every now and again; otherwise what is that? But you’re too distracted by his own anatomy.

“Like - like a mouth?” You’re aghast, dreaming up a horrifying looking image. But he laughs,

“No, no - not, not quite like that.”

“Well then I don’t know what you mean, I’m sorry, I just, I just can’t picture it.” His gears are turning in his head and he stays silent for a moment before saying,

“Would it be easier to understand if I showed you?” On the one hand your mother had always told you not be alone, or naked with a boy unless you were going to get married, so you should say no. On the other though you were so curious. And really this seemed like information you should know as an adult! So you nod,

“Oh would you!” You watch as he swallows, his adams apple bobbing - almost as if he was nervous, but he couldn’t possibly be. He starts to unbutton the trousers he’d just a moment put on. He pauses when they’re undone, as if he’s considering if he should take them all the way off. In the end you stare as he shoves them down to his knees, stops and then steps all the way out. You get to look over at him again, this time much closer.

When you reach out with one gentle, tentative hand and brush your fingers over it, he jumps as if he’d been hurt and you pull your hand back as if you’d been burnt. “No, no, baby it’s fine - go on, you can touch it.” You don’t want to hurt him, just for the sake of satisfying your curiosity, but when you looked up at him he’d smiled encouragingly at you, reassuring you enough that you reach out again. You gently skim your fingertips over it again, you’re fascinated by how it seems a darker colour than the rest of his skin, the strange feel of the simultaneously silky but wrinkled and soft but taut skin. You gently wrap your hand around it, feeling the strange mix of hard and soft and its heated temperature. You squeeze, gently, and brush a finger over the head. Where you can see, just behind, a little wrinkle of skin has left it exposed and shiny where it was half-covered before. Elvis had been desperately trying to remain silent and still but with that move he can’t and he lets out a high-pitched moan. You snatch your hand back, he’d sounded wounded. Apologising profusely,

“Sorry, sorry - Elvis, sorry, I didn’t know, didn’t know that would hurt you, sorry! I, uh, I’m so sorry you can, you can put your trousers back -” He interrupts you, bright red and blushing, but his pupils blown wide and lips red with where he’d bitten them, as he quickly attempts to reassure you;

“No no, no I’m fine darling. It feels too good s’all. It’s just, you’re making me feel so good baby, so good.” You frown, uncertain - it doesn’t look like it’s feeling good, it looks hot and sore to you. “I promise, sweet thing, promise - you can put your hand back on, if you - do you want, want me to show you how to make me feel really good?” You’re still not sure, and he continues, pleading, “C’mon baby, my pretty little yittle baby - you, you know you are right? My baby, my little girl, you gonna make me so happy?” He looks down at you, earnest eyes meeting your wide ones. “Gonna show you how to do it? How ta, how ta please a man? Please me? Treat me nice; let me show you how to help me?” You couldn’t deny his desperate pleads anymore and you nod, steeling yourself to try again, reminding yourself you weren’t hurting him, you were helping him.

“I, I - ok, but you hafta, you hafta tell me how El, I can’t - I don’t wanna hurt you or anything like that.”

“You won’t, you won’t baby, just, just wrap your little hand around it, there,” He smiles encouragingly at you as you do as he requests; nervously wrapping your hand around and rubbing it up to the tip. You stroke a finger across the shiny pink end and stare, fascinated, as a bead of thin white liquid forms at the tip. You gasp, pulling your hand away when your finger accidentally touches it.

“Gosh, it’s leaking! Oh ew Elvis! — don’t pee on me. That’s disgusting!” You shake your hand, holding it away from you. He’s quick to grab your wrist before you can wipe it on the couch, correcting you,

“No, no, no, baby it’s not, it’s not pee. It’s uh, it’s… it’s what makes babies, darling, but this little bit of it is, it’s the same as why you get wet down there. Bet your little panties are clear through right now.” You blush, how could he know that you sometimes, unknowingly, seemed to wet your pants,

“Elvis - don’t, it don’t happen often enough for you to accuse me of peeing my pants,” his laugh in response is strained.

“No, no, baby, it’s not pee, it’s slick baby - it’s saying … that your little kitty wants something in it … wants someone to touch it.” He pauses, suddenly realising that he’s your only point of reference for any of this — “but you mustn’t - not ’til you’re completely alone, or, or, with me - you understand?” You frantically nod and he continues talking, satisfied he’d impressed that upon you sufficiently; “and it's making that because it wants to make it easier for a uh, for uh a penis to go in there. That’s how babies are made sweetheart.” You frown,

“My mama always told me you got given one from the church where you got married - you prayed hard enough and it got put in your tummy like Jesus and Mary,” he smiles,

“I think your mama was very smart - tryin’ to keep you innocent but I swear… I promise I’m tellin’ the truth.” For some reason, you believe him. And he can tell, moving your hand back onto him, the thin sticky wetness cooling on your fingers;

You stop, a hair’s breadth away from touching him - looking up at him, “So, uh, so - if we’re alone I can, you’ll let me touch myself too?”

“Of course honey, of course, I’ll even touch you myself — but right now, I need you to move your hand a little, ok baby? Think you can do that? Just gotta listen to me, ok?” You nod, suddenly determined to show him that you can take instruction. Your hand trembles as you reach it out again, and he tucks it under his own fingers, firmly but gently placing it back onto his length. You’re again surprised at the heat, and how it somehow seems to have firmed up even further.

He directs your hand, his palm on the back of yours, both in pressure and movement. You feel him jerk underneath your palm and you can’t help but jump in slight surprise,

“S’ok, s’ok baby, just feels good. Tha-tha- that’s just right darling.” It doesn’t take long before his hips are stuttering, and you’re starting to understand the motion and technique that makes him groan in pleasure. He grips the back of the sofa over the top of you, releasing your hands and caging you in between his arms; it puts you at an awkward angle, and you wriggle up to get onto your knees. It puts your head back near his chest height rather than directly facing his crotch and, though you were fascinated by what was going on, you were slightly relieved at the distance. Now that you’re in sole control you feel free to experiment to your heart’s content, twisting your hand and stroking a gentle finger down to his tip. You watch as a thin stream pulses out at the feel of that, and he lets out a little cry;

“Don’t, don’t tease me baby, s’not nice, not when I’m bein’ so kind - lettin’ you learn like this. Showin’ you what ain’t seen ‘fore.” You nod, feeling slightly chastised even at his soft words, and return your grip. You giggle, suddenly thinking that in some ways it reminds you of milking a cow. All this tugging and twisting. He groans above you again, begging -

“Can, I, sweetheart - can I kiss you?” He cups your cheek with one of his hands, distracting you and pulling your eyes up to meet his. You nod, whispering agreement, and you think frantically for a moment if you should warn him - tell him that you haven’t done this before either but before you have the chance he’s cupping your cheek and bending over capturing your mouth in his.

You press your lips to his, and he responds in kind, but a second later you’re shocked when he opens his slightly, suckling on your lower lip. He pulls it back a tiny bit with his teeth and you whine at the little sting, but also at the sudden butterflies springing in your belly. You don’t know what else to expect, and go to pull away, but his hand cups the back of your head, holding you in place so you’re forced to breathe through your nose and let him continue. Your hand squeezes involuntarily at the action and he falls even closer to you, pulling you so that your arm is sandwiched between you both. He pushes his tongue against yours, and you can feel his little smile when you catch the hint, letting him push it into your mouth. You feel awkward, uncertain what to do with your own tongue, and you don’t know where you should be looking - he’s got his eyes closed but you can’t help but watch his face - stare at the arch of his nose and his long lashes. You melt against him as his tongue continues to map your mouth, not even realising that you’re chasing his lips wherever they move or that you’re making tiny little gasping noises. It feels weird but certainly not something you’re opposed to, now you’ve felt it, and you certainly are getting pleasure from it, little zings going straight to your core as he brushes over your teeth and cheeks. He pulls back for a second, panting,

“Was that - have you done that before?” You shake your head, and his hangs forward, chin resting on the top of your head, groaning. “Lord, baby, what I wanna do to you.” You twist your hand, where it was still holding him, although slightly forgotten in the heat of the moment that had just passed, and he moans again, his head lifting to fall back the other way.

“That’s it baby, that’s it.” He’s gabbling approval at you, and you somehow continue touching him. You narrate to him your actions as you do, feeling and hearing when something felt particularly good to him.

“Is that right? You like this? Is it better if I do this?” And you swipe your thumb over his head — he thrusts forward, his hand that was still cupping your head coming down to clutch at your shoulder.

“Just, almost there, I’m almost there. That’s it baby, doin’ so well for me. That’s it, oh god, that’s it.” He’s constantly talking, and you can feel his eyes watching you now, so you bring your other hand up, feeling around to the strangely soft and silky skin just behind his cock, you stroke that, while the other continues its ministrations. That seems to be enough to send him over the edge, as a moment later his hips stutter, and he yells out a curse as a milky stream spurts out of the end straight into your palm. You hold him through it, uncertain of what else to do, and you’re not sure if that’s all you need to do so your hand stays there until he whispers,

“S’ok little one, that’s me done. For the moment, that’s - uh, that’s not, that's not what you think - that’s babies there in ya hand.” You look up at him shocked, before looking back at your palm, suddenly panicked that you might have to be a mother now.

“Babies?!” He chuckles,

“Yeah, hon, but they don’t - they don’t grow unless I put ‘em in you.” You breathe a sigh of relief, “They don’t… you don’t only do that for the babies to grow though, it’s uh, its also because like what we just did - it feels good.” You nod, it’s starting to make an awful lot of sense, but you’ve still got that feeling in your tummy and his earlier accusation was right - you could feel your wetness now; although you’re far less ashamed of it now that you know it wasn’t pee. You squirm, and he strokes your face, just a single finger down your jaw, looking down at you before turning to put his trousers back on. He’s buckling up his belt, and you’re still sat there with the pooling ejaculate on your hand, it looks kind of similar to that thin icing, like your mama used to put on her pound cakes. And you’re tempted to have a tiny taste when he turns to grab something off of the side, but when you run a finger through it you’re put off by the texture, and the reminder that it came from him. He turns back to you, talking again and distracting you from your study.

“That’s all there is to it, baby - now you’ve seen me and you know. Know how to pleasure a man with your hands and the truth about babies - ain’t that a lot of learning for one day.” You’re about to ask if he could show you what he meant before, since your pussy was, with this heat and wetness, apparently begging to be touched. But you suddenly, as you wipe your hand on the handkerchief he pulled out from somewhere, feel quite overwhelmed. Maybe another day. Kissing and touching was more than enough for the one day. You stand up, as if to leave, and he rushes to you,

“No, no - what’s all this; I can see it on your face. Don’t you go worrying your pretty little head about any of it, ok baby? I’ll, I’ll show you what you need to know - don’t you go worrying ‘bout any of it.” You nod, you want to disagree but he looks so earnest and true, grown-up and handsome, that you can’t do anything but agree. “You’ll come to me if you have any other questions, right honey? ‘Fore you go anywhere else right?” He’s speaking authoritatively, like he’s giving you an order, and you can’t do anything but accept his words.

“Ok - El, ok. I’ll come to you - promise.”

#elvis smut #elvis smut request #be my ally #elvis x reader #elvis presley smut #elvis x you #elvis fanfic #elvis presley x reader #be-my-ally request

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lifesteal-headcanons · 19 days

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I'm gonna put the glitch in glitch duo right now and rant about them and how their glitches work because I am so normal about them (lie)

Okay, so I barely got into Lifesteal like. Late last year because of Squiddo joining and I lowkey got really hyped for it and seeing Ash and Squiddo together I was like.. Woah.. New fav duo alert.. And then found that there was no fancontent and had to make it myself so.

Anywho! Ashswag, as we already know, has that lil.. Thing over his left eye (?) That a lot of us (me) has interpreted as like. Glitching. So to start us off, I believe that glitching can stem from messing with your own player code/others player code/server codes/using mods with like. Virus' or something idk im not that smart. And from the Ashswag videos I've watched we can kind of tell where Ash fits in there by like. Fucking with how servers work and therefore fucking up his own code.

Squiddo's code is glitched because.. Have you watched Squiddo's videos? Naw but fr, she's constantly putting the most cancer inducing mods on her game, playing mods that can definitely fry their pc, playing minecraft on a USB DRIVE?? Which would DELETE chunks to MAKE MORE OF ITSELF so like. You can see where I'm going with this. So obviously, their code gets fucked up and the more they do these mods and plug ins and - whatever the hell, the more their code because intangible and unable to be fixed.

So, with that, I'm gonna go ahead and explain how I think their glitching works and how it affects their body/like.. Everything else.

Ashswag's glitches, as we can see, are more visible to the eye. Literally over his damn eye. I'm gonna go ahead and assume that gives him some partial blindness in his left eye. Also, from some fics that ive read ive seen people give him like, back problems and chronic pain that he probably had before but the glitches DEFINITELY don't help at all and instead make the pain way worse than it already is so. Yay!

While Ash's are more physical, I feel like Squiddo's are more like. Mental? If you catch my drift? While Ash is stumbling down into a heap of pain on the floor because his back is killing him, Squiddo is standing in the hallway staring at him wondering why the guy from the one house smp is crumbling on the floor in front of them on a server they swore they were not on a few weeks ago.

So yeah. Memory loss Squiddo. Also inspired from a fic that I do know! I'll link the fics I got inspired from at the end because they are genuinely such good reads and great ideas.

But I decided that memory loss best fit Squiddo, because tbh they are pretty forgetful. And I take their goofy hijinks and shenanigans as just. Squiddo having to recollection of anything and just trying to do something (which she's probably done before) to job their memory but oh well. I feel as if the memory loss is more of a living in the farlands thing rather than glitched out fucked-up code inducing thing, but whatever. The only time we see glitched out Squiddo is on thumbnails! So I feel like whenever Squiddo joins a server or world that's previously glitched or like. They're already pretty glitched, it really takes its toll and fucks up the whole thing and makes it a memory loss disaster for Squiddo.

And because of Squiddo's horrible memory, they can never recollect and find out what the hell happened to the world to make it this glitched out when in reality she's the reason the world is so glitched.

Except when joining servers! Surprisingly, they don't experience those things when joining servers while when joining worlds the world would become discombobulated and delete itself just after a few hours. Funsies! Which they realize when they join the one house smp just to explore it and then they find ASHSWAG!! And then realizes that HE'S GLITCHED TOO!! YAYY!!! And then they absolutely BOMBARDDDD him with questioned like "why do my worlds always delete themselves?", "what causes someone to have a glitched code?" And "how are servers able to not glitch out?" Etc etc which Ashswag answers and then BOOM! FRIENDSHIP!!!

Basically the only reason servers are able to work for them is because theres like.. This other thing cody whatever that prevents it to idk im not smart. This is not compliant with my past fics written about this stuff but oh wellsies.

Another thing I have made up is 'glitch fever' where basically they just get sick because of their fucked up code and glitches. Yeah. Also based off a fic I read where being around Ashswag too much can make you sick and stuff. I feel like their are certain people who are immune to it like Reddoons (purely because of Swagdoons and nothing else) and Squiddo (because they also glitch tf out and Swagsquid/silly).

Another thing I've like. Headcanoned (because this is all just me reading too much into things and making too many headcanons about) is that their glitches also like.. Made their body tempature irregular. This is so random but it was just something I thought of and then I wrote a fic about it. Like, Ash is constantly fucking cold and on a hot ass texas summer day he'll feel a little warm. Same for Squiddo just vice versa. I love them. The sillies. I want to put them in a terrarium and study them.

That's.. All I have I'm pretty sure. Hello I am Swagsquid the #1 Glitch Duo Writer/Enthusiast and the #1 Swagsquid Shipper (the ONLY Swagsquid shipper..) and thank you for listening to my ted talk.

Fics I took inspiration from:

"Dear Diary: Today, I killed someone" by Fey_wilde on Ao3 (https://archiveofourown.org/works/52170592)

"I Feel Too Weak to Stand" by Eternal_Era on Ao3 (https://archiveofourown.org/works/48067240)

"fault lines" by garlic_sauc3 on Ao3 (https://archiveofourown.org/works/41924196)

Fics I've written based on this idea:

"Glitch fever" by (ME!!) Swagsquid on Ao3 (https://archiveofourown.org/works/53400835)

"The warmth of another's embrace" by Swagsquid on Ao3 (https://archiveofourown.org/works/53449573/chapters/135284551)

"Forgotten hot chocolate" by Swagsquid on Ao3 (https://archiveofourown.org/works/54350146)

(Please read the tags and ratings before reading some of the fics!)

#ask #headcanon #lifesteal smp #ashswag #squiddo #long post

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stuffnonsenseandotherthings · 4 months

Text

Cupid's Last Wish Final Thoughts

Watch It Or Drop It The Challenge

A fireworks show of a drama which suffered from a few awkward pauses and which, even though it ended with the dampest of squibs, was a joy to watch.

Strengths

I think part of the reason I held off on watching Cupid's Last Wish for so long was because I was a little leery on the whole "BL but with body swap" premise. Don't get me wrong, I actually love the concept of a good body swap plot, who doesn't, I just haven't seen it done well very often. Luckily, however, Cupid's Last Wish more than impresses on this part and what could have been a very messy plot indeed was instead an incredibly well executed exploration of the self, the body, and the complex relationship between them. Through it's central premise Cupid's Last Wish delved into themes of gender identity, gender dysphoria and, as @wen-kexing-apologist, @lurkingshan, and @so-much-yet-to-learn delve into in this post, maps out a truly trans experience and, for that, it shines.

Another strength of the show, linked directly to the body swap, was how well it handled the misunderstanding and miscommunication between the main pairing. Normally, when confronted with a romantic miscommunication situation in a drama, it makes me want to tear my hair out with how unnecessary it is and how easily it could be fixed but not here. I could literally see Korn sending the wrong message and Win completely misleading things and I could understand why. At no point (apart from perhaps the last 2 episodes which I'll get to in a bit) was I questioning why Win thought Korn was in love with Lin or how Korn was unable to see what his actions were communicating to Win.

A final two strengths (before I move on to the weaknesses) are the cast and the soundtrack. I won't go too into depth (after all I expected Earth and Mix to put on an excellent performance) but the dynamics between the central trio were fantastic and Jan and Mix sharing two dual roles was an impressive (and impressively convincing) sight to see. Likewise the soundtrack was pretty basic but effective, the use of Tillybird's "Just Being Friendly" was a highlight and I've had Mix and Earth's "Closer" on repeat for my own trip.

Weaknesses

For all that Cupid's Last Wish does right, I won't lie, it also does quite a bit wrong with the main issue being that as well thought out and as beautifully executed as the body swap plot line, everything else feels a little... half hearted, half baked, half done. The inheritance plotline felt silly within a second of it being introduced (I still don't get why Win was so angry or why he held the grudge for so long when everything we'd been shown up to the "big reveal" indicated he should have felt the opposite); the Aunt and Uncle were barely there and, brief attempted murder on the part of the Aunt aside, barely villains at all (and were actually quite reasonable once they got to have civil chat); and the whole plot twist with the mum being the homophobic mastermind behind Win and Korn's estrangement was so poorly done and so rushed I'm still angry about it (she did absolutely nothing to be forgiven and I can't believe her revelation was swept under the rug in seconds).

I wish I could say these were minor things but they were, technically, half the drama and really soured things when it was time to focus back on them. What really put the nail in the coffin though, is the fact that these weaker elements became the entire focus of the show in the final two episodes which meant it ended with a decidedly wet plop rather than with a bang.

Conclusion

There is much to love about this drama and perhaps even more to explore with regards to its central theme but unfortunately some of its weaker elements were just a little too loud to completely ignore. I would still rewatch it (in fact I plan to) and I would still recommend it to anyone thinking of giving it a go (and even foist on people who weren't thinking about it at all) but I would also say that I wouldn't judge anyone who decided to speed run the final 2 episodes.

Watch or Drop: WATCH (but with a minor warning)

Final Score: 7.5/10 (closer to an 8 than a 7)

Would I rewatch it: Yes, heck I even want to write meta about it if I can find the time.

Watch It Or Drop It Masterpost

#watch it or drop it #watch it #thai bl #cupid's last wish

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oldsargasso · 2 months

Note

Re: Winner cooking for his boys

SLKGDFGSFHSHIHGJO I'M SO! EMOTIONAL! WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!

First of all, it's so easy to picture Winner doing all this coz Pop is such a cook 🥺 BUT ALSO! HE LIKES THEM! HE LIKES LIVING WITH THEM! WHY AM I SO AFFECTED BY THE MERE FACT OF THIS

I love that Kim's laundry habits are a recurring detail. I'd LOVE to be a fly on the wall watching Kenta's probably very intense negotiating tactics with market vendors.

As soon as Winner set the chilis aside I got mushy 🥺 I know I asked for a token of mild (hah) thoughtfulness but! It's such a small and yet thoughtful action!!!

Kenta sitting in the car after therapy - you had to stab me extra good didn't you hmm. But also just the way that Winner is so used to their rhythm GETS ME!!! Also KimDean shopping date 🥺 And Kenta getting post-therapy kisses my GOODNESS!!! I'm such a mess good god

One other domestic detail we must consider is that Winner is the tallest in the household and is therefore in charge of top shelf duty. And perhaps he takes advantage of this at moments, such as when Dean is struggling on tiptoes to reach a large mixing bowl stored just out of reach, and Winner presses his body flush against Dean's back as he reaches up from behind him to grab the bowl. "Need this?" he might say, before planting a sly kiss on Dean's cheek and laughing when Dean playfully shoves at him.

Also your tags!! Kim and Dean cuddling 🥺 Of course they'd share a bed. Winner takes up absolutely too much room and probably also snores at night. Kim and Dean are less particular about touch, they don't have to worry about it, whereas Kenta deals with a mix of touch aversion and touch starvation and needs his own space. BUT THE IMAGE OF HIM LINGERING IN THE DOORWAY WANTING TO BE WITH THEM AND NOT KNOWING HOW TO ASK. LET ME LIE DOWN FOR A MOMENT!!!!

In regards to cuddly Dean, I had been thinking about how he probably touches Kenta in the most casual way out of the three of them.

Winner probably (at first) uses touch to get on Kenta's nerves and rile him up (Winner likes getting shoved against hard surfaces ok), and then has an awkward period where he realizes he doesn't want to upset Kenta and has to figure out how to not be annoying.

Kim's touches are always heavy and intentional, there's a tangible weight to them, and they calm Kenta rather than rile him up.

But I think Dean would just be outright cuddly with Kenta, like he's touchy without thinking about it. Kenta will be sitting on the couch and Dean will plop down with his head in Kenta's lap, jabbering away about some new car he got to test drive, or he'll lean his head on Kenta's shoulder when they're watching a movie. And it's just. Something Kenta hasn't had since Pete left.

And he doesn't really know how to be physically affectionate (not at first), how to let himself just… touch someone for the sake of touching them. But it never phases Dean, if it takes Kenta ten minutes to convince himself to put his arm around Dean's shoulder. Dean doesn't pull away in a "oh I must be making you uncomfortable" manner. He doesn't withdraw his affection unless Kenta pushes him away.

And I think that would mean so much to Kenta? That Dean doesn't worry at all about being cuddly with him. He's not scared that Kenta will lash out at him, even though Kenta does occasionally snap when he's in a "don't treat me like I exist" mood, which is something they learn to navigate. But Dean still comes right back to him once things settle, simply because he likes Kenta and he enjoys being in contact with the people he likes.

Kenta also simply finds it cute at times and tells Dean so, which is how I ended up at the first ask I sent you 😌

YOU BROUGHT THAT ON YOURSELF!!!

onmg is he? I basically don't know anything about the actors beyond what photos/videos are shared on tumblr lol. that's funny though. I very much ascribe to cooking as a form of love. and spending time in the kitchen together is like THE activity so I always use it to show how people care!

listen if nothing else I will make up tiny details that I can tenuously connect to onscreen characterisation and carry it through all my stories. you KNOW Kenta has a Reputation in the market. half of it is intense negotiation and the other half is old ladies seeing his sad puppy demeanour and adopting him.

food is a language of love!! thoughtful consideration!! I feel like Winner would be big on these little actions where nothing is said and nobody has to say anything but it's obvious that he was paying attention. and making an effort.

I need Kenta to go to therapy so bad. also the car is the perfect place for containing maybe a little mini breakdown or just collecting yourself. like it's so obviously an in-between space that while you're there you can just process. that's why road trips are the best. imagine them all going on a road trip lmao there'd be at least one roadside argument and constant judgement of whoever is behind the wheel. Winner claims front seat privileges for height reasons. Kim for sure creates a perfect playlist or two (and then everyone keeps talking over the best songs so they have to start them again a bunch of times). that post that's like "doesn't matter how old you are, all road trip snacks should look like a child was given $20 and free reign" that's Dean. and then Kenta also packs some healthy snacks but he's the first one into the junk food.

Kim and Dean deserve to go shopping together! Kenta has no style and Winner has a very particular style so it is up to Kim and Dean to look good for everyone. also they're the only two who can be trusted to behave properly in a dressing room. by which I mean keep quiet. Winner doesn't give a fuck and Kenta doesn't like being forced to keep his noises in. they're buying jewellery and going to an ~adult store btw. KISSES FOR KENTA agenda.

!! YES. omg Winner would be the best/worst being the tallest. he'll help BUT. he definitely stores everyday items up high and is like "you just have to ask nicely~"

(uh I just read your newest ask and now my brain is like. derailed completely.)

I think Kim likes the closeness of sharing a bed and Dean likes knowing someone is always there. and Winner definitely needs his own space - for sprawling but also because I think he's the one out of all of them that very much needs His Space and His Things. Kenta would have had his own room in Tony's mansion right? or no??

stopppp cuddly Dean is KILLING MEEEE. also the thought that Pete was casually touchy with Kenta even with his power? death for me actually. but ughhh yes it's the fact that there's no expectation behind Dean's physical contact! it's just so natural and unconscious, like of course he's gonna reach out! I wonder too because North, Sonic and Alan are all pretty touchy as well, like Dean might be so used to it he doesn't even think twice about it. and now. they're pack! they're family! of course Dean isn't concerned about touching Kenta; he's not only allowed he's encouraged to do so because of that. am thinking of Kim and Dean in their bed with Kenta at the door and it's Dean who wakes up and welcomes him in, gently pulls his arm until Kenta climbs into bed and into prime cuddling position. and Kim sleeps through the whole thing because he knows he's safe.

deeply love the thought process that lead from this to where you ended up, you have a beautiful brain.

#asks #pit babe #pit babe polycule

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spacevixenmusic · 1 year

Text

Man, this anime. People have been really hard on it since day one (and yeah, I understand WHY), but I've been really enjoying it honestly.

As a refresher, My Home Hero is about a dad who sees his college-aged daughter in an abusive relationship with a dickhead yakuza fuckboy, and through circumstance, ends up alone in her apartment with him, and decides to just fucking murder him. After beating yakuza boy's head in, Dad realizes how utterly fucked he and his family will be when The Organization inevitably finds out, and has to quickly come up with a way to not only hide the body, but fabricate an extensive web of lies to try and outwit The Organization. It helps that Dad is a salesman who used to collect and write crime novels, and knows how to - rather gruesomely - dispose of human remains in ways that will be nearly impossible to trace. While he is figuring shit out, Mom also stops by and is now inevitably tangled into this as well. She surprisingly is on board with it, and helps him get right to work.

But The Organization is no slouch, and they're onto these two. The whole anime so far (6 episodes) has been about the slow burn paranoia of every single lie being fabricated while the organization hunts for the missing fuckboy. The story itself is absolutely fascinating and honestly kind of thrilling in a very adult way that you just don't ever get to see in an anime. You would expect this from something like CSI or any daytime crime drama that your stay-at-home grandma watches while the kids are at school. Very unusual to see it in an anime (albeit a low-budget and very limited animation production).

What makes it truly interesting though is the lens this story puts on Dad. He is portrayed as very mild-mannered, nervous, a good conversationalist but still a bit of a geek, and yet, there is clearly a very dark undertone to his demeanor, given how quickly he is able to come up with convincing lies, act on his knowledge of crime and body disposal, predict The Organization's moves, keep calm under pressure, and quickly jump toward committing even more murder. One of the yakuza involved in their ongoing interrogation even commented on him being far more of a monster than he lets on. And Mom is hardly better, as she effortlessly follows his cues and assists with the body disposal and as of episode 6, even improvises her own solutions without even a speck of fear staring down the yakuza.

I haven't seen an anime this tailored for capital-A Adults since about the mid-00s, in the vein of stuff like Paranoia Agent and Ergo Proxy. And while I wouldn't put My Home Hero in the same boat as either of those, it's still super refreshing, in a similar way.

You bet your ass I'm gonna see this one to the end. I'll let you know how it goes!

#my home hero #tetsuo tosu

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nirvanai · 2 years

Note

Would you rather Tearer has half of Ryuki's brother's face instead of a grey carapace? Or Ryuki's brother having never existed and Ryuki is suffering some severe Mandela Effect?

not gonna lie I saw a fanart of tearer with half of ryuki’s brother’s face on twitter a while ago and that au concept has lived rent free in my mind ever since (can’t find the link rn but if anyone can pls leave it in a reply bc its Great and ppl should get to see it). Its the absolutely perfect delightfully fucked up sort of angst that I think could be really fun. the idea of his brother having never actually existed is an interesting one, but I feel like it’d end up sorta removing some of the impact of a lot of his motivation and stuff, if that makes sense? He’s living for the memory of his brother, so having that all fake would be kinda less interesting to me.

with that first concept though. oh man. oh boy. it could be So much. given the resources that naix had, it’s not impossible to conceptualize, just. extremely super fucked up. (which... fits Naix pretty well considering the shit chikara and tokiko were willing to do lmao stealing half the face of a dead teen wouldn’t be outside the realm of possibility for those two).

(it got long again so the rest under a cut. also edit: found the tweet i was thinking about! cw eye horror/alcohol in the link)

like first of all. just imagine a version of ryuki’s confrontation with tearer 6 years ago at the cathedral where he found that out. he shoots at tearer and breaks half of his mask- the opposite half that date shoots. and you see ryuki’s own face. like. that would Ruin Him even before hitting him with the EM waves to take tama out.

Or alternatively, that confrontation goes the same, but rather than date and bibi seeing “Jin’s” face, they see “Ryuki’s” face- especially considering we literally just saw ryuki and tearer talking face to face, it’d be... the exact sort of wild insane plot twist i would not put past Uchikoshi lmao.

so while the player is just absolutely losing their mind over “what the fuck did ryuki’s twin survive somehow” the story keeps moving on, and then you find the half a body in the cathedral, and its “ryuki”. so there’s that moment of “WHAT THE FUCK NO-” before you realize its uru and great googly moogly its all gone to shit.

shoutouts to that meaning ryuki would basically have to see his brother’s dead body. Again. but this time its his face being worn by a serial killer, the exact sort of person Yukuto wanted to Stop. that would be, uh, deeply upsetting to someone like him! I will say, if anything, I feel like it’d make Ryuki just hate Tearer even more- like, he already hates criminals. Knowing that a very dangerous and violent criminal had literally stolen his brother’s face? Oh Man would that piss him off.

It’d also be very interesting to see how that could further play around with Amame and Ryuki’s relationship and parallels- how she views him and thinks of him, having killed someone with half a face that looked just like his. Would she hate him for thinking he’d related to Tearer? Or would she freak out a bit more, feeling like she’s being haunted by the person she killed? Plenty of interesting options.

Also I just. would Desperately hope that the epilogue would include more talk between ryuki and the mizukis and them like... checking in to make sure he’s ok. like. christ that’s some additional trauma to add to the trauma pile. it’d be a very interesting way to link Ryuki back to Horadori more though.

Honestly if we get a DLC or a third game I’m very curious if Uchikoshi has any more plans to expand upon Ryuki’s past. the fact that he’s suggested a name for his twin but hasn’t actually committed to one (and specifically stated its not Canon), plus a handful of older twitter replies abt ppls thoughts on ryuki, makes me hope so. I’d really love to see more about him he’s so interesting.

#replies #kuruto ryuki #aini #aini spoilers #nirvana initiative #nirvana initiative spoilers #mariogman25 #the way this could be used to have a *double* ryuki dead fakeout in the game #fucked up and evil moments tbqh #but yeah its a very fun au to think about #very much a horror setup type thing #but i mean the game is an M rated murder mystery so that works-

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marlasomething · 1 year

Text

(my) Mag a Week: Crumbling Concert

Hello there!

I am participating in the "a mag a day" idea by @a-mag-a-day which is BRILLIANT and I decided to do "statement a week", rolling dice with the characters and fears that were ftw that week in the episodes I have listened.

For today I rolled Archivist!Grifter's Bone (don't judge me, the dices SPOKE) and The Desolation (Eps. 39-43).

As usual, please do forgive my quick tipper and non-native speaker mistakes, Marla

Allons-y!

CW: Martin's mom A+ parenting, death and murder, corruption of the soul, Desolation Fear Domain, mentions of parental neglec and illness

Also on AO3!

Fellow musicians, dear fans, naïve newcomers…Welcome all to our first and last concert in the City of Lights!

We are Grifter’s Bone and we are very pleased indeed to be able to tell you the story of two lovers we have… observed very closely in recent times and how its downfall came to be.

The end is near, are you ready to face your fears?

Martin Blackwood had always lived in the shadow of his mother. Not because she was someone especially relevant and (or) remarkable in any aspect imaginable, but because she managed to control and manipulate him at her will with the sole power of verbal violence and their unbalanced interpersonal dynamics.

She constantly insisted she didn’t truly need him, corrupting his soul by making him feel extremely useful while blaming on him even the slightest of mishaps, magnifying them up to the point he began to question whether he had genuinely made an unwilling mistake or if part of him truly wanted to hurt his mother.

So he stayed, and stayed, trying to find a love that had never been there. Pretending comments about his body where just misguided worry, the ones about his lack of occupation a badly put critic on their country’s lack of jobs and the ones that were so bitterly yelled that some words were not even discernible…just due to her illness.

Because, apart from a terrible person, Martin Blackwood’s mother was physically sick. Some might argue (and not without reason) that it was partially her fault, since she had refused to go to a doctor for her entire adult life (likely the reason our hero had always walked with a discreet limp, since her mania had been forced since birth into her offspring). However, Martin would never see it that way (he’d rather have a nice lie), so he just worried more and more about her.

To receive nothing but harm, harm so intense he felt his own foundations burn to the ground (once or twice a bit more literally than he would have liked, but that’s a story for another day).

Before his nineteenth birthday, as much as his life was rather intolerable, that rather was still a major component of said definition (there were still some salvable elements in there). Then, thanks to the magic of self-discovering and externally-supplied testosterone, Martin started to look more and more like a paler, ever so slightly sickly (thanks to his absolutely lack of any money that didn’t go towards his mother’s well-being) version of his father. Alas, his mother became even more of a monster in whatever was referred to her only son.

It didn’t work as you might think, though, for this only made Martin tried harder with her; reaching the point to convince himself the one time he almost asphyxiated due to someone leaving a fire burning in the leaving room with the door opened just so the heavily poisonous smoke would reach the inside of his bedroom had been just a silly accident.

No matter how much he cried, how much everything inside him stop working properly due to the sheer disgust shown by her, no matter how much he took care of her for absolutely nothing but harmful comments…he forced himself to still believe, deep inside, she loved him just as much as he should…as he did.

Then, he met Jonny-boy.

He would have hated being called so, good thing he is pushing daisies now. Jonathan Sims was a journalist and editor who sort of hated open-mics and, still, got to go to one rather frequently due to his position on a quite poorly managed local paper.

The first step on the way my future career.

Now, Jon had also a lot of self-denial deep inside of him and toxic cicling behaviours he created for himself, but those are topics for another day. The point, though, in this story is how he managed to meet Martin in one of these open-mics and…almost murdered him.

His poetry was bad, his manners too distant yet too sweet for his taste and he managed to feel incompetent even in holding a meat fork. And Jon wasn’t one of those people who keep things for themselves. So he told Martin all of these opinions and more.

However, as the murderous desires decreased, they found each other enjoying their new-found friend companionship.

As time went by, their friendship evolve into something more, something they were almost ready to put a name to. Something that was healing both of them. Martin’s eyes now revealed that the building within them was starting to be rebuilt, the chaos far gone. There was no more destruction; just growth, just hope.

His mother, obviously, noticed how her fiery comments, how her smashing remarks left almost no mark on her son, on her caretaker, on her only connection to the Real World as her health state worsened and going out had become an impossible tact.

What’s more, Martin had started neglecting her. Only in very small, almost unnoticeable details but, compared to the perfectly arranged life he had always made for her, it was a rather huge change. Especially since now she had no option but to admit that Martin’s care was actually extremely valuable to her.

She might have survived all this, maybe even made it feasible for Martin to pay another person to take care of her partially without the not-so-silent-threat of trying to destroy them as people in the process.

Still, it was something her pride could simply not let go.

The next time she tried to throw down Martin, after he had decided to try and bake something for him and Jon with zero experience on the matter, he just smiled sadly and said he simply just hoped she would one day understand her hatred was a one-way street (not as he still believed, deep inside, their fraternal love was).

She could almost hear the lack of crumbling down inner-constructions. It made no sense! Martin was a weakling, not any different for what his father had been, and the later had lasted barely a decade living with her before he was nothing but human-shaped ashes.

Just as she had always wished that being to end.

Therefore, she decided that, if the insides of Martin Blackwood could not be broken, his outsides would.

That is why, one night Martin and Jon were dreaming with a world in which worms were even deadlier than in ours, holding so tight to each other that they had become one unique creature, she took a lighter with her and, thinking about how Martin was nothing but a burden thrown to her, she threw it switched on at the door and, against all laws of nature, it ignited the whole building.

When the fire finally died, there was only one survivor.

Martin Blackwood woke up to the ashes of who had been the love of his life (in every universe) and, just as far as he believed the entryway was, her mother’s corpse.

His skin was untouched and he began weeping tears so hot a sauna would be jealous. Those tears corroded his skin, leaving two perpendicular scars at each side of his face.

His mother had spent her entire existence trying to throw him down, to make him become nothing but the rubble of a person she reckoned shouldn’t have existed in the first place.

Now, she was gone and there was nothing for him but to prove his mother wrong, to deny in the biggest measure possible the uselessness she had always attributed him. And he knew the way to do it, appealing to a very special part of myself. The one only Jon had managed to temporarily shut down: he wasn’t the one to be broken anymore; he was the one to break everything.

And so it concludes the tale of how Martin Blackwood came to be feared as no-one since Saint Agnes had been. We would love to stay but, as you are well aware, we must go in the look of more stories to archive just to show to audiences as loyal and kind as you.

Now, remember, the lighters are at the entrance.

Make good use of them.

SUPPLEMENTAL. Stope hiding, for fucks shake! We have noticed you. Yes, you. The one currently listening to our lyrics and somehow being unaffected by them. None of us is certain of why that is but, mark our words: we will find whatever cursed book is helping you out and feed it to our audiences.

#a mag a day #a mag a week #mag horror #statement #original statement #au #the magnus archives #fanfic #tma #magnuspod #grifter's bone #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #jmart #martin blackwood's mother #fic #the desolation #mag

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ink-and-sunbeams · 9 months

Text

The Fey Path

Everytime my father asked me where I escaped to, I lied.

This was my gift, deception. It's not a sweet gift and it's not a gift that one should abuse. You have to care for it neatly. Otherwise, one day that gift may end up becoming a knife in the back placed there by your own hand.

This lie. The lie I handed to him so easily was something well-worn and entirely unimportant compared to the truth.

Green leaves and the summer warmth swam around me comfortably. I had walked this path many times, but each time it changed slightly and each time it became even softer beneath my barefeet. Excitement made me clench my fingers more tightly around the basket I'd been carrying.

I knew I had to share this.

Finally, I made it to the place where the willows bend and sweep their graceful branches across the face of the river. He wasn't here yet, but that was fine because I wanted the chance to settle first.

Unwrapping the contents of my basket, I brush my hands across the surface of the silver box that had been carefully nested inside. I knew once I clicked it open I would find a stone that swirled with a storm beneath the surface.

"What did you do?"

My friend and research partner was not entirely human. His body was a mangle of earthbent nature. So much so, that if you looked at him at a certain angle you would swear on your life it was just another shadow spot in the woods.

Dark hair twisted, tree-branch and ivy-tangled down across his eyes. Eyes, that were looking rather suspicously at me.

"Well, hello to you too." I sniped back.

"I did not say hello." His tone was as level as always as he made his way to sit down next to me. He peered over my shoulder at the silver box.

"Yes, I'm aware, I just- nevermind." It's always difficult to remember that sarcasm was not something that could be wielded against him. It didn't matter. I was too eager to share.

"Do you remember when we were talking about how some witches could take things out of dreams? Bring something back?"

He hesitated. "Yes. I remember, but that kind of magic is severely old and dangerous..."

I waited a moment for him to catch up as I gave him a better look at the stone. Recognition flooded his eyes.

"You didn't!"

A smile broke out across my face. "I did!"

"Bree, you did not." He was being a lot more serious than I thought he'd be.

"Look, I know that it is a bit on the dangerous side, but after we are done I can put it back." I kept my tone light and uplifting. Even he couldn't bring down my excitement. Not for this. "Just think of what we can do. This can unlock the door. You can get back! And, if I keep it or if I study it, maybe I can find a way to unlock that door permanently."

He was quiet for a long moment, but I saw the hunger in his eyes. He wanted to go back home, he had been stolen away from the main path for far too long.

Softly, he spoke. "The door isn't meant to stay open. The paths will come and go as nature intends, even witches can't keep that from happening. Maybe I can go back. Maybe. But if I do that means I probably won't be able to come back, and you... We may not be able to find each other again."

Now it was time for me to be quiet. It's not that I hadn't known this could be a possibility. It's just that I understood him too well. Being kept away from your true home was a story that I had also been apart of, my name penned in absolute ink. If I could write him a different ending then anything else wasn't as important.

"I know that. I do. But, I also know you and I know that being here isn't helpful for you. And you already helped me, so it's time I returned the favor."

That he nodded to. Favors. Bargains. Rules. All were important things to him. Personally, I often found them annoying. Like walking face-first into a spiderweb.

"Ok. Maybe you are right," He conceded, "Maybe. But if we use the stone to open the gate, it will use up an incredible amount of magic. And it will attract the attention of other unfavorable creatures. We'll need a plan."

"Perfect! We can make a plan. What's the worst that could happen?"

"We could both die."

"Let's not think about that. Now, how does this thing work?" I lifted the stone to the light.

#fantasy writing #writing #fey #feywriting #feyxhuman #witch #witchwriting

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Good Little Helper

Pairing: Season 5! Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader gets assigned to be Spencer’s personal assistant of sorts after he gets shot in the knee. Category: SMUT(18+) Content Warnings: fingering (female receiving), blowjob, praise kink, dirty talk, blink and you’ll miss it cumplay Word Count: 4.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: So, remember yesterday when I posted about how I wished new ideas would stop distracting me from everything I’m currently working on? Yeah. This wouldn’t leave me alone, and I couldn’t work on anything until I got it out of my head, so here! Have a fic! (It was supposed to be a blurb, but I got a little long-winded so now it’s too long to be a blurb oops 😙✌) Also, I apologize for any editing mistakes, I just wrote this out in one go, so hopefully it’s alright!

***

Being assigned to assist Dr. Reid with practically his every need after he was shot in the knee wasn't exactly how I expected to spend the past few months.

And that's, like... a huge understatement.

In fact, when Agent Hotchner came up to me in the break room and said he'd like me to do the job, I dropped my coffee and shattered a mug. I could tell he was a little impatient with me, even through his kind reassurances that it was quite all right as he helped me clean it up and waited for an answer.

In the end I'd said yes to the job, though the more I thought about it the more I wondered how much lust and naivete had clouded my judgement when I did.

Because there was absolutely no way I was going to be able to survive weeks, possibly months, as Spencer Reid's assistant. Not only because he was intimidatingly intelligent and there was almost nothing I could offer him in decent conversation, but also—and more prominently—the fact that I was pretty sure I was in love with him.

Maybe that was a stretch. I definitely had a stupid major crush on him that felt more like we were in middle school, but I could barely look at him without going warm all over. In fact, I think we had only ever made eye contact once and I averted my gaze immediately, afraid I'd give myself away. If I'd have held it any longer, I was positive I'd have burst into flames.

He'd tried talking to me once, a few months after I started working at the Bureau, and it was only to ask if I'd send some files over to their tech analyst, Penelope Garcia, but when I tried answering, I stumbled over my words and ended up only getting out a squeaked, "Uh huh," before taking the files from him and scurrying off.

I almost cried that day.

Basically every time I was in his presence, I was a total wreck. Even more so than I was on any other given day.

Being his assistant did get fairly easy pretty early on, though. I mostly just stayed out of his way while he worked, and if he need anything that he could've gotten himself if not for the injury, it was my job to get it for him. I worked on my own paperwork most of the time, and he was always busy working on geographical profiles and whatever else, we only ever really had to talk when he asked for something. And that only required a, "Sure," on my end, so I could just get up, get what he needed, and then go back to work.

Still, it didn't help that sometimes I'd get distracted.

He was very distracting.

I usually waited until I was sure he was so busy in work that I wouldn't get caught. And that's when I'd peek over my computer or hide behind a book and stare at him. I know that sounds creepier than it is, but if you had to spend almost every hour of the day with him, you'd have done the same. Even though for months he was put on rest from the field, he always showed up looking more like a college professor than an FBI agent. Which, I suppose suited him more anyway. Regardless, it was a damn fine look. His hair was decently long and extremely pretty, and when he got the cane?

I was a goner.

It was at that point, though, when I started to realize that he probably wouldn't need my help anymore. He'd been allowed back into the filed by then, and even when I went with them on cases it still felt like I was more out of place than usual. Sure, I'd picked up on some minor skills that aided in profiling and otherwise, but at the end of the day I was still only a desk clerk. Sooner or later, I knew there would be a time where Agent Hotchner would inevitably tell me that I'd done a good job and could return to my menial day job.

So, even though Dr. Reid and I had gotten into a pretty regular, non-awkward rhythm, I was being a little more squirrely than usual.

And of course, he noticed.

"Y/N, are you doing alright?" he asked, looking up from his stack of paperwork. That was another thing we'd ended up doing— late into the night after everyone had gone home, we stayed late in the conference room and quietly filled out paperwork.

I barely looked him in the eye when I answered. "O—Oh, mhm. I'm fine."

"Oh... You just seem... a little different today."

On any other day I would have freaked out on the inside like a teenager, excited that he'd noticed me at all enough to notice a difference in my behavior. But that was his job after all.

"Actually, you seem rather... sad."

I did look up at him this time, and the soft glow of the table lamp lit up his features— features that looked me over with concern. I could feel my face grow warmer with every second I looked at him, until I quickly looked back down at my paper and shook my head.

"N—No, I'm okay. Promise. Just a little tired, that's all."

Usually he would have left it at that, given we didn't ever really have longer conversations than that that didn't pertain to whatever case the BAU was working on. But he pushed further, and I swallowed.

"Are you sure? Because... You can tell me if there's something wrong. I'm a good listener..."

Did I dare tell him what was really plaguing me? That I was scared I wasn't going to be able to spend time with him every day, thus most likely giving away my crush? That is, if he hadn't already figured it out by this point... Truthfully it wouldn't have surprised me.

The thought made me go warm again, and still, I kept my head down.

"I'm sure..."

And then I did something I probably shouldn't have. I looked back up at him, just a quick glance, but under his intense gaze I crumbled, flitting my eyes back down and playing with my hands.

"Is it... because of me?"

Afraid suddenly that I'd made him feel bad, I straightened a little. "No! No, not at all I... Um... I—I guess I'm just... A little sad that I'm probably... not going to be of any help to you anymore. You know, now that you're healing up."

A small smile flashed over his face, and I inwardly melted.

"Oh... In that case I... I guess I'm sad, too."

"Really?" I asked softly, my heart jumping.

"Mhm," he answered back in earnest. His features were softer than they'd ever been, eyes wide and kind, smile inviting... "You've been a great help. And you're fun to be around."

I couldn't help but smile shyly at his confession, completely bewildered that he'd think of me as someone he'd enjoyed being around, though I'd offered just about nothing interesting to any conversation we'd had. "Y—You don't mean that..."

"I do."

"C'mon, really? I... I—mean... coming from you that's... that's too generous."

He laughed a little. "How do you mean?"

"I... Well, y—you're you... I mean, you're... smart, and nice, and cu— uh,... n—nice..." I stumbled hard on that last one, squeezing my eyes shut at the thought of almost calling him cute to his face... And then I realized I'd called him nice two times... in a row.

I hadn't even realized he'd gotten up and walked over to me until I felt his cane gently tap my leg. I jumped, looking up at him and almost crumbled again right then and there. He stood over me, tall and clearly amused, and I wanted to just curl up and hide where no one would ever find me.

I also didn't want to be craning my neck so far up to see him, so I stood up, sending my chair rolling back a foot or two. The added height was better, but he was still fiarly taller than me, and with the way were standing so close to each other?

Maybe I'd made a mistake...

"I—I'm sorry," I stammered.

Still amused, Spencer tilted his head a small amount. "What for?"

"I... I don't know, m—making this awkward?"

"It's not awkward."

"It... It's not?"

He shook his head, quiet for a few beats before he nearly whispered. "What were you going to say?"

I paused. "I... What?"

"Before... You said I was smart. And nice... And... What else?"

It sounded like he was trying to get me to confess something, and quite honestly I couldn't tell if it was for humiliation or amusement or clarification purposes. I mean, it was probably safe to assume he wouldn't go out of his way to humiliate me, but... it still made me nervous.

"I—I didn't... I..."

"Y/N... Tell me?"

I'd been cornered. Quite literally, too, as my lower back hit the edge of the table. My hands shook anxiously at my sides as I contemplated what to say. The truth? Embarrassing for me. A lie? I was no good at telling lies, and I'd still end up embarrassed, because he'd be able to tell.

So, after a very long silence in which he waited on me to answer, I blurted out, as quietly as possible, "Cute."

The word sounded juvenile coming from my mouth. Right now, standing under Dr. Reid's intense scrutiny, it didn't even feel like the right word to describe him. Not that it wasn't true... But it just wasn't an elegant enough descriptor for him.

And that alone probably proved just how different we were. How out of my league he was...

"That's what I thought you were going to say," he mused, slightly breaking me out of my self-deprecation.

I would have asked him something then, anything to keep myself from looking like even more of a fool with a childish schoolgirl crush, but all words escaped me entirely. All I could do was look up at him, slowly growing warm under the intensity of his eyes and praying he wouldn't think of me as silly.

Though, it wouldn't have mattered, because he kept talking anyway, his body taking up even more space around me as his arms came around to well and truly trap me against the table.

"You're right, you know... I'm almost completely healed, and pretty soon I think I won't need an assistant anymore."

I was scared that maybe I was wrong before, and he'd actually humiliate me now, though the look in his eyes suggested otherwise. I wasn't sure what to make of all of it. SO I just stood there, trying to breath steadily as Spencer studied my face.

"And I meant it... That makes me sad. You know why?"

I shook my head, afraid to make a sound.

His head dipped lower, close enough that I could feel his breath on my mouth as he spoke. "I probably won't get to see you every day."

"Y—you want to see me?" I couldn't help but ask.

He scanned my eyes, amusement and something else lingering there as he did. "Yes."

And then he kissed me.

It was a short distance, but it felt like we went far. And I hadn't even registered that I whimpered into his mouth until he returned it with a low groan that boiled my insides and absolutely melted me. I was helpless against him as he pressed himself further against me and used his hands to keep my back steady.

The whole time my mind was swimming with dizziness. It felt like my body was covered in butterflies from head to toe, particularly strong where his hands pressed into me and his cane rested firmly along the inside of my thigh.

I leaned forward when he pulled away, because I was afraid that he was saying goodbye. But one of his hands came up to my face and my eyes fluttered open, immediately taking notice of how messy his hair was now that I'd had my fingers in it.

I must have looked scared, because suddenly his eyes changed, and he removed his hands away from me altogether, putting distance in between us. "I—I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you without asking..."

The relief that rushed through my body must have gotten to my head, because I breathed out a demand I'd never have had the courage to get out before.

"Do it again."

One second I was staring at him, admittedly afraid that he'd regretted all of it, and the next I was seeing stars as he came forward and kissed me again. His hands cradled my face as he did so, coming on to me with gentle care while still maintaining that hunger that surprised and excited me.

I hadn't realized how much I missed his touch until he'd given it back to me, my body once again melting into him and allowing him to do whatever it is that pleased him.

Apparently that was lifting my leg off the ground and making me sit on the table.

My body went along with it easily, and I was glad for it because my brain was nothing but mush, unable to process fully how he'd decided that I was worth kissing. All I really knew was that I wanted him. Anything he wanted from me, I was willing to give. And that must have come across very clearly, because when he pulled away and spoke to me, I whimpered at his words.

"Y/N... You've been such a good girl, helping me with whatever I needed these past few months..." Meanwhile his hand danced along the hem of my skirt, the tiny brushes of his skin against mine sending me into a mess of shivers.

"I think it's about time I've thanked you for all your help, don't you think?"

The implications in his tone made me whine again, and I pressed my forehead into his, our noses brushing as I answered. "Please."

I was so taken by the way he groaned as his lips connected with mine once more that I almost didn't realize that his hand was now fully up my skirt, his fingers drawing gentle lines over my panties and practically making me melt again. His hungry kisses contradicted the softness he took to my clothed cunt, a fact that warmed me to my core and made me want him more than ever.

When he slipped the fabric aside and ran the pad of his finger through me, I whined hard against his mouth, something that must have excited him— He nipped at my bottom lip and took a deep breath.

"How long have you wanted this, Princess?"

If not for the kissing and the finger slowly sliding up through my arousal, the nickname would have done me in. By now I was an utter wreck, but I somehow still managed to answer, even through a little stammering. "F—Forever."

It was the best I could come up with.

He breathed a laugh as his finger circled my clit. "That's a long time..."

"Uh huh," was all I could manage in response. My body and my brain were too focused on the things his finger was doing to my body, involuntarily rolling my hips forward for more. I needed more.

Thankfully he picked up on my urgency and reciprocated with slipping his middle finger inside me, one knuckle, then two...

I cried out as my head lurched forward, connecting our mouths once again. My hands clutched around his neck and my fingers tugged at his hair to keep myself from falling, because the slow, searing pace at which he fingered me made me wonder how I'd still been able to breathe.

He added another finger soon enough, picking up the pace and rendering me practically useless in his embrace. Meanwhile I registered the sound of his own little whines, still deeper than mine but little enough to tip me off that he was enjoying this just as much as I was, and that alone helped get me further along in pleasure.

I pulled my mouth from his reluctantly, squeezing my eyes shut as I allowed my forehead to rest against his. "D—Doctor, I'm c... I'm so close."

"His honorific falling breathlessly from my mouth seemed to do something sinister to him, because his fingers sped up and his breathing got heavier.

"Yeah? You gonna come for me, Princess?"

My stomach tightened and I nodded as best as I could, relishing in the sounds coming from below us, wet and downright filthy.

"Go ahead...Be a good girl and come for me... You deserve it..."

Each little sentence was punctuated with a slightly faster pace, each one bringing me closer and closer until I squeaked into his mouth and shook violently around his fingers, my vision going white. My legs had been open wide since he'd started teasing under my skirt, but now they threatened to clamp shut from the intensity. But I wanted nothing more than to be good for him, to make this as easy as possible, so I held out and kept them open as wide as I could stand as my orgasm rocked through me.

Spencer whispered praises into my skin as his hand slowed and his mouth trailed down to my neck. And even though it was more than nice feeling him lick and bite over my skin, I felt rather sad when he removed his fingers from me.

That sadness didn't last long though, not when he pulled back and studied me for a moment, eyes lust-blown and purely ravenous before he brought his glistening fingers up to my mouth.

I didn't even have to think. I brought my tongue out and let him slip his fingers over it, closing my mouth around them and sighing as I sucked them clean. This only seemed to excite him more, his features displaying all sorts of desperation until he couldn't take it anymore.

He kissed me again, bringing both his hands to rest at my waist. And with his hands so low I wondered if maybe he'd take to ridding himself of his own pants, but it never happened. Rather, he pulled away after minutes of more kissing, and sighed quite sadly as his upper body pressed firmly into mine.

Something else pressed firmly against me as well—right along the inside of my thigh—and I gasped, mind running wild through all the possible outcomes of the night.

But Spencer only stood there, occasionally nudging his nose against mine while his hands gently kneaded my sides.

"D—Do you want to stop?" I asked softly, afraid he'd regret what we did.

He proved me wrong. "God, no... It's... It's just that I'm still not cleared enough for any... strenuous activity on my leg, and I don't..."

I didn't want to push him, obviously, but I thought I could make the mood a little lighter. "O—Oh, well on the bright side... I could stay your assistant for a while longer."

The laugh that rumbled in his throat made me smile, though from the way he stood there, I knew he wouldn't risk it.

"Um... Raincheck?" he whispered.

On the one hand, that meant he definitely wanted to see me again, and I was more than happy with that. But also, that meant our fun for the night was done...

Yet... Maybe not...

"Sure," I answered, pecking his lips once more. Then I brought my hand to his chest and slid it down until I reached his belt, and I leaned back to look him in the eye, a boldness I never imagined coming from me in a million years.

"But I can still help you..."

I watched the desperation and disappointment in his features slowly dissolve into a newfound hunger—and an amusement—that grew my confidence tenfold.

"Oh?" Spencer mused. "How do you suppose you can help me this time?"

He wanted me to say it. So, without second guessing myself anymore, I grazed my finger over his erection. "I'm very good with my mouth, Dr. Reid."

He grabbed me by the hand then, dragging me along to the chair I'd kicked back before and sat himself down, one of his hands still gripping the cane. Matched with the desire in his eyes and the swollenness of his lips and the tousled strands of his hair, the sight was truly something to behold. It was something that only ever existed in my dreams, nd now it was real.

Not wanting to waste any time, I sunk to my knees and nestled myself in between his legs. He reached out and caressed my cheek before lifting my chin with his middle finger.

"You like being my good little helper?" he drawled.

I tried to nod, but he clicked his tongue and held my chin in place. "Words, Princess."

"Yes. I—I'd do anything you asked. Anything you want, it's yours..."

He hummed then, removing his hand from my face and moving to undo his belt swiftly with only one hand. The action, the sound, everything... it was enough to make me wet again, and I subtly ground down onto the heel of my foot as I watched him pull himself free from the confines of his pants.

I didn't have time to marvel at him before I was drawn forward like a magnet, my hands crawling up his legs and my eyes batting up at him, ready and eager to please him however he wanted.

"Eager, are we?" he mused once more, gently stroking himself with his hand.

"Yes, Doctor," I breathed, inching closer and kissing the outside of his hand.

His movement stopped then, and it didn't take longer than a second for him to decide to let me work on my own.

"Then have at it, Princess..."

I started by kissing my way up the length of him, taking my time to gauge his reactions as I did so, occasionally darting my tongue out to taste him. Once I reached the tip, I sucked on it gently, using my tongue to swirl around it until I could taste the saltiness of his precum.

And then I started taking him slowly into my mouth, watching above me as Spencer's eyes started to shut, obviously debating whether or not to lay back and enjoy this or watch me intently.

Either way, I was more than happy to keep it up, finally getting him to the back of my throat. I flexed my tongue and held him there as long as I could, promptly gagging over him and blinking tears from my eyes as he let out a loudest sound I'd heard from him yet. His head flew back and his tongue quivered along his bottom lip as he cursed my name.

The act made me proud, so I retreated for air, sucked at his tip again for a few seconds, and then repeated it, taking him down my throat again and watching through teary eyes as he visibly swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're so... Such a good fucking girl..."

The praise caused my insides to burn hot, and I ground down onto my heel again, lifting my mouth to start bobbing up and down.

His eyes opened then, and he looked down at me, using his hand to brush stray hair from my face and the other to grip onto his cane for dear life. I looked up at him the whole time, making sure to convey through not only my actions but also my eyes that I loved this. I thrived off of his praise, I enjoyed the feel of his dick gliding over my tongue and hitting the back of my throat, and I longed to feel him coat the inside of my mouth with his release.

I was so entirely into him in every capacity, it wasn't even funny.

I was so glad he could tell, a smile grazing his features as his hand gently gripped some of my hair. "So eager to please, Princess... And so fucking good at delivering..."

I whined onto his dick as he held me down, rendering me immobile. The only thing I could do was look up at him and choke, and of course, I was more than happy to do it. In turn, I was met with a deep groan and a tug of the hair.

"Hold it, hold it... Atta girl..."

My cunt throbbed at his words, and my throat continued to burn, tears falling down my face at ten-speed until finally, he let up and pulled me off of him.

I coughed a little and blinked away tears as I caught my breath, Spencer's fingers combing hair from my face as he smiled proudly.

He didn't even need to say anything then. I wanted to give him more. So I leaned down again and took him in my mouth, quickly making work of his tip while my hand came up and stroked the rest of him.

"Fuck, Princess, just like that... Make me come just like that..."

Rather than just continuing, I offered him a high whine and a wide gaze, hoping to exceed expectations.

I guess it worked, because he came right then, his dick pulsing over my tongue and in my hand as his warm release shot down my throat and over my tongue. I hummed around him, fluttering my eyes closed at the taste and the feeling, probably enjoying the fact that I'd done this to him more than I should have.

It was worth it to see the look on his face, though, after he'd given me all he had and I purposely spit some of it out onto the tip of his dick so I could lick it up and give him just a little more stimulation after the fact. His mouth hung open, eyes heavy and unwilling to leave me, even as I finished and sat back to wipe the tears and saliva from my face with a satisfied smile.

Though, the longer he looked at me, the more shy I became. Funny when I'd just had his dick down my throat, but I'd never been good with people staring at me for long periods of time.

"Was that... Was that okay?" I asked, suddenly worried I hadn't done something to his standards. "I know I don't do this a lot, so I'm sorry if it wasn't that g—"

"Y/N..."

I blinked up at him, still on my knees and unwilling to move. Not that I wanted to, but I couldn't even if I had.

"That was fucking perfect... I meant it, you're... so good."

I knew he was capable of better words, but after having the life sucked out of you, I could imagine 'better words' were hard to come by. Still, I laughed a little, playing with the hem of my skirt. "Good. I'm... glad I could help."

He smiled at me, readjusting his pants and then moving to help me off the ground.

"Hey, uh... Even when you go back to your regular job after I get better, I... I hope you know you're always welcome to come visit me if we're not busy."

The words warmed me in a different way, my heart swelling as well. "You... You mean that?"

Spencer nodded, grabbing my hand and dragging his thumb over my wrist. "Of course. I mean, you're more than just a good helper, you know. You're also kind, and smart, and cute..."

I laughed at his emphasis on cute, heat warming my face. "Ha-ha..."

"I really mean it, though," he said softly, removing his hand from mind and bringing it up to lift my chin, so I'd meet his eyes. They were swimming with sincerity, the epitome of warmth and comfort and kindness— the kind that always drew me to him in the first place. "And... If you'd want to maybe ditch the paperwork one day and grab a coffee or something, maybe—"

"Yes," I interrupted without thinking. My heartbeat picked up upon seeing the look in his eyes when I agreed, a mixture of amusement and relief. "Y—Yes, I'd love to."

"Good. Then it's a date?"

"Definitely."

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noteguk · 3 years

Text

pretty in pink | kth | m

— summary; in which you try to rekindle your sex life with a devilish plan and a very sexy, very pink set of langerie.

— contents and warnings; smut, a bit of fluff, marriage au, taehyung x reader, mischievous use of lingerie, dirty talk, dom!tae x sub!reader, pretty heavy dom/sub themes, constant use of the word “sir”, begging, Tae has a big dick, cock worship, blowjob, deepthroat, cum eating, fingering, hair pulling, a bit of praise, degradation (use of slut/cockslut), but also use of pet names (honey, love, baby, doll…), mentions of cum play, spanking, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, orgasm control/denial, overstimulation, impreg kink if you squint, being nasty in the name of love

— words; 6,4k

— author’s note; homies… this is basically one long smut scene. There are like 3 paragraphs of context. Brain empty no excuse.

Requested by anon! Requests are currently closed.

By the time that Taehyung got home, you had pretty much forgotten you had a plan in the first place.

He removed his shoes after closing the door behind him, his coat hanging over his forearm and an expression of exhaustion plastered all over his face. “Hi, honey,” he called, only slightly aware of your silhouette coming out of the kitchen and into the living room. “How was your day?”

Now, you see, your day had two main parts. The first (the usual one), was the part that started as soon as your husband left home for work, and you made your unceremonious walk towards the kitchen table, where you proceeded to work yourself. A few years back, you had managed to score an amazing job in the tech industry which allowed you to work mostly from home, and get a great salary while you’re at it — one downside, though, was that things started to get a bit lonely as your husband’s hours increased.

You knew that Taehyung wasn’t doing it on purpose: he was working hard for a promotion, one that could considerably improve your living situation, and you wouldn’t shoot his plans down like that. But it was a bit disheartening to see him leaving so early and getting home so late, sometimes only after you had already gone to bed. And, besides the emotional void growing inside of you, there was also the sexual one you needed to take care of.

Which leads you to the second part of your day. The scheming one.

You and Taehyung used to have an extremely active sex life, practically fucking like rabbits throughout your dating, engagement, and marriage phases. But now things had started to cool down — really, no one’s fault: Taehyung was too tired most days and you felt too moody — and you had started to grow a bit desperate. It wasn’t as if the two of you never had sex anymore, it was just mostly a very vanilla, very boring, once-every-weekend-maybe kind of thing.

All that being said, it’s understandable why you had started to construct a plan to rekindle that old, dying-out flame of yours. You didn’t want to do anything crazy — regardless of how interesting the idea of handcuffing your husband was, you didn’t think the best approach would be to scare him away from the get-go — so you eventually settled for a few things he particularly liked from back in the dating days.

(You felt so old thinking that.)

Number one: baby pink lingerie, the lacy kind. You didn’t know what kind of intense reaction it unleashed in your husband’s primal brain, but you knew that those were his favorites, and that Taehyung never stopped until he could take them off you. For that special occasion, you had even gone out and bought yourself a new set, matched with some semi-transparent thigh high socks that you also knew he loved. Cover all that up with a loose satin robe (the same color, of course), and you were ready to go.

Number two: a healthy amount of roleplay, matched with absolute submission from your part. Now, that’s where the money was: even if, by some curse placed on him by working countless hours in a corporate, hyper-capitalist job, Taehyung didn’t react to your very sexy, very skimpy set of new lingerie, you knew that would get a reaction out of him. It was exactly the dynamic the two of you liked the most, and you still remembered exactly how to push his buttons.

It was a perfect plan.

Only, you forgot about it.

“It was fine, finally finished coding that page after a bazillion years,” you responded, placing your mug on the coffee table before throwing yourself on the couch. The signs of old age were approaching: your back hurt so much that you could only think about sleeping for the next ten hours. “And yours?”

Taehyung hadn’t really looked at you yet, instead fighting to hang his coat next to the door. “It was good, actually. My boss told me he has some good news to tell me tomorrow.”

Your eyes lit up. “You’re getting that promotion?”

He sighed. “Maybe, I don’t know. I don’t wanna get any expectations, you know my boss. Maybe he’ll just give me a new stapl— What the hell do you have on?”

You paused, looking down at yourself. Oh. Yeah. You had forgotten about that. Or, rather, you forgot about the second part of your plan — because your very pink, very exposed underwear was staring you right in the face.

Still, you managed to keep yourself composed. “It’s new, do you like it?” You smiled, pulling your satin robe to the side. It exposed your breasts, made Taehyung clench his jaw at the sight. You needed to snap into submissive mode soon enough if you wanted that to work, but you also needed a few seconds to center yourself. “Baby?”

You watched as your husband blinked his way back into reality, taking a hesitant step towards you. You wanted to laugh: Taehyung was looking at you like there was a tiger in his living room, and he was trying to find out the best possible approach to deal with it.

And that was the perfect time to strike.

You pouted, hand slithering down to the level of your waist so you could untie the loose knot of the robe. “You don’t like it, sir?” The innocent inflection of your voice made his eyes snap up at yours, something dark starting to swim on the bottom of his irises. He was catching the drift. “I bought it just for you.” The robe was pushed to the side, presenting him with the glorious view of your panties; those socks that made him want to bury his face between your thighs. Taehyung took another step in your direction. “If you want, I can change into something else.”

Just like magic, Taehyung’s expression of exhaustion had been casted away, replaced by one of sheer, unshakable lust. Your breath almost got stuck in your throat as he placed his hands inside the pockets of his pants and took a few silent steps towards the couch. “Don’t change it,” he spoke up. His voice was deep and velvety, shot straight down to your core. “You look beautiful, love.”

You smiled as he sat down next to you. “Thank you, sir.”

“Of course.” Taehyung’s large hand cupped your cheek, and you leaned into his warm touch. His calm disposition was a threatening thing, it got you on edge as his gaze trailed down to your lips; your breasts; your thighs. He hummed. “Want my doll to look pretty for me.”

“Yes, sir,” you said promptly. His eyes were back on yours in no time, thumb caressing your bottom lip. “Can you kiss me, sir?”

His hand brushed down your face, moving onto your neck. Taehyung was thinking of what to do to you, and you were kind enough to wait. “Does my baby want a kiss?” He asked and you nodded. “Very well. Sit on my lap, love.”

You could barely contain your excitement as you followed his order, one leg moving over his thighs so you could straddle him. Taehyung sighed in content as you sat on his erection, which only made the arousal between your legs grow.

“My girl is beautiful, isn’t she?” He mumbled to himself, hands swiftly pulling your robe down your shoulders. A cold breeze embraced your body as the discarded piece of clothing fell somewhere on the floor. “But so, so quick to misbehave.”

Your heartbeat quickened. “I didn’t misbehave, sir.”

“You did, love,” Taehyung spoke slowly, as if he was talking to a child. His movements were tender when he pushed your hair away from your face, but you knew there was wickedness hiding in those still waters. “You are trying to provoke me.”

“I’m not,” you lied.

“You are.” His hands placed themselves on your waist, pulling your body closer to his. They were a bit firmer than before, spreading goosebumps through your skin as they slithered down your lower back, palming your ass cheeks. “You put this on because you wanted me to fuck you, baby. Don’t lie to me now.”

Your hand started playing with his tie, eyes following the movement of your fingers so you could avoid his penetrative gaze. “Sorry, sir.”

His finger found the underside of your chin, pushing it up. You couldn’t escape those eyes, he wouldn’t allow you to. “Why are you apologizing?” He asked calmly. His other hand was still firm on your ass, squeezing the flesh. “I’m not mad. I just find it funny.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Funny?” You echoed.

“Yes, doll,” Taehyung said. “Funny the lengths you go to just because you want my cock.”

Heat exploded on your cheeks at his dirty words, your own speech getting stuck in your throat. You were in trouble, and it was exactly what you had been looking for.

“Hm? Not gonna say anything?” He egged you on, leaning his head to the side. You wanted to touch him, to kiss him, but you knew that things would follow his own pace. “My baby’s so horny for cock she’s not gonna even answer me?”

His words were suffocating you, earning a timid roll of your hips against his hard member. Your underwear was absolutely soaked and you could barely think straight. “I want you, sir,” was what you managed to get out.

“I know,” Taehyung said, his tone so nonchalant, so passive. His knuckles brushed tenderly against your cheek, a sly smirk curling up on his lips. “My pretty little slut just wants to get fucked so bad, doesn’t she?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He hummed, the corners of his lips moving down in disapproval. “Yes…?”

“Yes, sir,” you were quick to correct yourself, hands slithering up his shoulders and behind his neck. It was electrifying how Taehyung managed to get you so worked up so quickly, his unbothered stare burning holes on your skin. You felt so small like that, and you knew he was getting high on the power play. Some things never change. “Sorry, sir.”

“Mhm.” Taehyung didn’t grant you forgiveness so fast, instead leaning back on the couch and analyzing your demeanor. “I don’t know if you deserve my cock, though.”

You blinked, not hesitating for a second. “I do deserve it, sir.”

He scoffed, both of his hands back on your waist. His palms were heavy and warm against your skin, and you could not hold back the thought of having his fingers moving in and out of you. No matter how many times Taehyung touched you, his hands were just so big that he got you seeing stars in no time, filling you up and reaching deep inside you in ways that your own fingers never could. “Show me, then.” His firm voice broke your reveries, digits pressing down on your naked flesh. “You can kiss me now.”

Obedient, you leaned in and trapped his mouth in yours. It was a different world when Taehyung was in that headspace — often, he would kiss you so eagerly, so hungry for more, but, now, his mouth was barely following yours; a disinterested hum melting past his throat, silently daring you to try harder, to show him that you were worth his time. You dug your fingers in his soft hair and placed your tongue inside his mouth, trying to be the best you could be for him and, yet, it seemed as if he was deadset on giving you the bare minimum reaction.

At the same time, you still felt the effects of that kiss, your body heating up as you moaned against his mouth. Taehyung’s hands had traveled downwards and were now tugging at your panties, pulling them up and burying them between your asschecks. It made your back arch; there was a slight pressure on your clit that got you grinding down on his cock. He sighed at that, sucking on your tongue as one of his hands slithered beneath your panties, harshly groping your ass.

You swore he was just about to get into it when he decided to pull away. Slightly breathless and completely overwhelmed, you could only watch as Taehyung tilted his head to the side and, just as nonchalant as before, asked, “What do we say, doll?”

Lucky you, you knew the answer to that question. “Thank you, sir.”

“Very well.” He caressed your cheek once more, eyes trapped on the swell of your lips. Taehyung’s mind was flickering through the details of you — your breasts, your thighs, the perfect weight of your center against his — as he slowly figured out what he wanted to do to you. At last, he made up his mind. “On your knees.”

To move away from his embrace seemed to be a medieval sort of torture, but you did as he told you. You were on your knees in no time, the harsh wooden floor hurting your flesh when you looked up at him, expectant.

Taehyung leaned forward, trapping your chin between his fingers. “So pretty, aren’t you, doll?” He asked, voice velvety and slow. “Wanna be good for me?”

You nodded, eager to please him.

With a deep exhale, he moved back, spreading his arms over the couch’s back. “Good. Take my cock out,” he commanded. You stared up at him for a second too long, waiting to see if that was a test. It was a bit suspicious, after all: he used to tease you for far longer than that before even allowing you to touch him. And, because Taehyung knew you very well, he caught your trail of thought quickly enough. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Go on.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said, just to be sure, and took your hands to his pants. Taehyung had chosen one of his most beautiful suits to work that day, and the dark grey shade did not conceal his erection in the slightest.

The smallest of things got you waiting for more: the sound of his pants being pulled down, apparently so loud in that silent living room; the gradual rise and fall of his chest; the wet mark on his underwear and the straining of his hard, leaking cock against the fabric. It was a good kind of anticipation, for you loved when Taehyung got you on the edge like that, unsure of what would follow, of how he would treat you.

Truth was: you loved being good for him, loved treating him as well as you could. Above all, you loved when he praised you for it, all warm touches and kind regards. But also, you adored when he made you work for those praises, glancing down at you like you were bothering him, like you couldn’t do anything right, not even pleasure him.

His cock was out soon after, heavy in your hands. Taehyung managed to control his demeanor rather well, but you could see that he was extremely turned on: tip reddened and covered in his precum, his length fully hard and throbbing as you gave him a small, tentative pump.

“Spit on it,” he said. “Come on, you know better than to touch me dry.”

You nodded, doing as he told you. A big glob of saliva dripped down onto his member, which you used to help with your movements. Saliva wasn’t lube, that’s true, but it did manage to calm down his attitude for a bit.

Being married meant that you had grown extremely used to each other’s bodies and, just like Taehyung knew your weak spots like the back of his hand, you knew his. Soon enough, you had your tongue trailing the underside of his cock, placing a special pressure on his frenulum. Taehyung inhaled sharply, hands digging to the sofa cushions as you lethargically continued your actions, swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip and tasting his precum.

“In your mouth,” he ordered, “now.”

Eager to please him, your lips wrapped around his crown and you gradually began sinking down on him. Taehyung was thick, always gave you a hard time as you slowly grew used to his size inside your mouth; a strangled moan perishing in your throat as you took him in. Above you, the man groaned in satisfaction, one of his large hands resting on the back of your head.

“Move.”

You agreed with a whimper, closing your eyes as your mouth moved up and down on his member, cheeks hollowing every time you sucked him. Taehyung got you just the way that he liked: so small beneath him, with your doll-like eyes looking up at him through a thin curtain of your tears. He always thought you looked so pretty with his cock inside your mouth, your perfect lips and tongue making him lose his mind.

“Fuck. Such a good cockslut.” He raised his hips just enough to reach deeper inside your throat, making you gag around him. The sound was beautiful to his ears, turned into a much more heavenly symphony when it quickly morphed into a muffled moan. Taehyung loved watching you struggle with his size, it made him want to break you apart. “You like my cock, baby?”

You nodded, but it seemed like it wasn’t enough. Taehyung tugged in your hair, signaling that he wanted you to remove your mouth from him. He needed to hear you say it, and you were beyond happy to oblige. “I love it, sir,” you told him, your voice a bit groggy from your previous act. “So much. It’s so huge.”

“Suck it harder, then.” His own voice was a bit airy, not so rough around the edges. He must’ve been close. “Show me how much you love it.”

This time, just a simple nod from your part satisfied him, for he allowed your mouth to wrap around his cock once again. Without hesitation, you did as he told you to, sucking his cock harder, taking it deeper than you were before. Your new approach was a gift from god, it appeared, because it took you no time to have Taehyung’s animosity meeting away.

“That’s it, that’s my dirty girl,” he praised, fingers intertwined in your hair. You could feel his big cock throbbing inside your mouth, releasing precum. It was just a matter of time before he spilled himself inside your mouth. “Gonna make me cum like a good slut.”

You moaned around him, one hand moving down to play with his balls. Taehyung hissed at the sensation, throwing his head back and groaning something you couldn’t quite grasp. There were beautiful droplets of sweat accumulating just above his white collar — it was almost humiliating how naked you felt when compared to his dressed, composed self — and this thick neck seemed to be calling for you, wishing that you’d place hot, messy kisses all over it. But you couldn’t do it just yet, not when he was about to cum down your throat.

Taehyung’s breath hitched and you instantly knew that he was just there. A couple more seconds and your theory was proven right: he grunted as his hot cum filled your mouth, a vague rising of his hips making his tip hit the back of your throat. “Fuck,” he cursed. “Don’t swallow yet.”

Oh he was in that mood, it seemed.

Apparently your plan had worked better than expected, because it had been a long time since Taehyung didn’t ask you to swallow his cum right away. As much as he adored when you did that, he also loved seeing his cum on you — splattered on your abdomen, on your tits, on your ass; maybe running between your pussy lips after he was done fucking you or, in that case, in your mouth. You didn’t quite understand the appeal that it had, but who were you to judge?

You removed his cock from your mouth soon after, filled with expectation as he shifted above you, leaning in closer. You blinked up at him as his hand found the underside of your jaw.

“Let me see.” Taehyung pulled on your chin and you quickly got your cue, opening your mouth. A flash of lust shimmered inside his eyes at the sight of his cum inside your mouth, the corner of his lips being tugged upwards into a satisfied smirk. “Perfect. Swallow now.” He closed your mouth.

Once again, you did as he commanded. “Thank you, sir,” you said. The discomfort between your legs was growing at a fast progression, monopolizing your mind — you had already been so good to your husband, did everything that he told you to, and now your own arousal was getting the best of you. You shifted around on the ground, your knees still hurting a bit. “Sir, please…”

Taehyung hummed, caressing your cheek. “What is it?”

“I'm so horny, I wanna cum,” you whined.

“Is that so?” Taehyung questioned, thumb caressing your bottom lip. It was a bit swollen after you had blown him, made him want to bite it. Instead, he leaned back against the couch. “Stand up.”

You fumbled as you got up to your feet, unsure of what to do next. Luckily, you didn’t have to think about it for long, because Taehyung soon gripped you by the hips and pulled you closer to him, your shins knocking on the sofa. His fingers were surprisingly tender as they slowly navigated towards your pussy, pulling the dainty pink fabric aside. “Love the color,” he mumbled as if he was talking to himself. You were just about to thank him, but your words were ripped out of you when his finger sunk between your folds. “Look at my girl. Got this wet just by sucking my cock, baby?” He looked up at you. You felt dizzy under his intense gaze, barely nodding in return. He smiled. “How dirty.”

You wanted to touch him, to find support on his broad shoulders, but you didn’t know if you were allowed to. Instead, you merely gasped as Taehyung started toying with your sensitive entrance, feeling as if your legs would fail you at any time. “Sir, please,” you pleaded once more, “I need you.”

He hummed, one finger slowly entering you. You practically melted as Taehyung added a second one right away, curling them up in the way you loved so much. “Yes, darling, I heard you.” But it didn’t seem like he did, for his hungry gaze was trapped on the sinking of his digits inside your tight hole. You were so on edge that you could cum just like that; a few desperate whimpers already dripping from your lips as he continued his movements. Your sounds seemed to drag him back to reality, though, for he was soon removing them from your pussy, ignoring your frustrated cries. “Go to the bedroom.” His eyes snapped up at you. “You better be naked in bed when I get there.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

If you didn’t know Taehyung as well as you did, perhaps that command would’ve taken the worries off your shoulders. However, the thing was: when your husband was in that headspace, you could never really predict what would come from it. Just because he had sent you to the bedroom, it didn’t mean that he would suddenly become pliant and adamant to fulfill your every need — if anything, it meant that he had enough energy and discipline to spare. If he wanted to fuck you straight away (like you had begged him to), he would’ve just taken you on the couch, like he had done countless times before. No, the fact that he was sending you — alone — to the bedroom was probably not such a good sign.

When you entered the suite, you started removing your bra, then your panties and, finally, the thigh high socks. You felt yourself become more and more uneasy as you laid down bare on the bed, feeling as small shock waves of anticipation ran through your body. Every time you heard a noise coming from somewhere else in the apartment, your heart missed a beat.

Taehyung liked to make those moments as dragged-out as possible. He got some sick kick out of it, you guessed, probably made him feel like a predator stalking its prey, playing with its food. He liked to leave you wondering what he would do to you, and you couldn’t say you were bothered by it either.

At last, when you thought that your heart was about to jump out of your chest, he walked into the bedroom, his slender fingers loosening his silk tie. It was a stark contrast how dressed Taehyung still was — everything still in place, with only the zipper of his pants still opened. He looked absolutely composed, his dark eyes following the curves of your body as he gradually approached you.

“Beautiful,” he complimented, sitting down next to you. The bed dipped under his weight, making your breasts bounce slightly. His gaze fell over them and he hummed, one hand tenderly squeezing the flesh. You gasped at the sensation, which ripped a small chuckle out of him. “And so sensitive.”

You didn’t know if it was the best moment to speak up, so you didn’t. Instead, you waited as Taehyung’s hand gradually made its way up your chest, towards your neck and, finally, to your cheek. There, it stayed for a moment, his thumb caressing your bottom lip. He really enjoyed doing that, it seemed. “Open up for me,” he requested. And so you did, lips parting so two of his fingers could enter your mouth. Taehyung pressed down on your tongue, making you release a small whimper, before allowing you to suck on his fingers. “That’s it. What do we say?”

“Thank you, sir,” you struggled to speak against his fingers.

“That’s right.” Taehyung removed his digits from your mouth, lowering them until they were pressed against your clit. You moaned and raised your hips under the random surge of pleasure, but his other hand soon met the skin of your inner thigh, making you stand still. “Shhh, shhh,” he shushed you, “don’t move now.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he slowly slid between your folds. The pressure was light, barely teasing your sensitive entrance before going back up to play with your clit.

“So fucking soaked for me, doll,” Taehyung groaned, tracing small circles on your sensitive spot. Your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth opened a little, allowing a small sob to fall from it. “Such an eager little pussy.”

“S-Sir,” you gasped, fingers digging to the pristine white sheets of your bed. You had just changed them, and now they were bearing witness to your sinful acts. “I want you.”

Taehyung hummed, apparently distracted with the sensation of your slickness covering him. “You have me, darling.”

“N-Not your fingers,” you said. “Want your cock, please.”

The moment he stopped his movements, you realized you had fucked up. Taehyung made a clicking sound with his tongue that shot straight through your chest, quickening your heartbeat. “You’re so spoiled.” He removed his hand from your heat and you didn’t even find the force within you to complain about it. Not when he was looking at you with such a mixture of disappointment and frustration. “You tell me you want to cum, and then that my fingers aren’t good enough for you?”

“Sorry, sir,” you rushed to say, a frail veil of tears shimmering in your eyes. You felt like you had been edged for hours, even if that wasn’t the case. The sexual tension was just too high, leaving you so worked up that it hurt. And there was also an extra level of desperation knowing that your release wasn't exactly your decision at that moment. “Please, I need it so bad.”

Taehyung scrutinized your face for a moment, watching the quick beating of your eyelashes and the thin layer of sweat that covered your skin. He felt a familiar sense of power washing over him, watching intently for every sign of pleading eagerness that covered your features. You looked so beautiful, he thought, so meek and polite under him. You had been so good, after all, there was no need to postpone your pain any further.

But he would. For just a tiny bit longer.

Taehyung breathed out. “You’re lucky I’m feeling nice. Turn around.” He slapped the inside of your thigh, a smirk blossoming at the corners of his pink lips as he watched you yelp in surprise. Still, you obeyed him once again, turning until you were on your stomach. “Hands and knees. Ass up. And don’t look behind you.”

After you had positioned yourself, Taehyung started undressing. You could only hear the shuffling of his clothes as he gradually removed them — taking his sweet time as his eyes lingered on your form. He could see that you were still so absolutely soaked for him, the glistening of your pussy making his cock throb inside his underwear. He would tease you a bit further if he, himself, had it in him to wait a bit longer. However, at that moment, there was nothing that Taehyung wanted more than to be buried deep inside your cunt.

You bounced up and down on the bed as he kneeled on it, hands on your hips tugging you towards him. You whined when you felt the pressure of his hard cock between your ass cheeks, your pussy clenching around nothing. Still, you waited for him to make the first move, since your latest attempt at asking for more had earned you a scolding from his part.

And, apparently, not only that. All air ran out of your lungs when you felt Taehyung’s hand collapsing against the skin of your ass once, twice, until you were crying out. “Sir, wait—“

“Quiet,” he reprimanded. “You’re always misbehaving. Can you take your punishment now? Or are you going to keep complaining?”

That was his way of asking for your consent to keep going, you realized, and you promptly gave it to him. “Y-Yes, sir.”

Another slap against your ass was what you recieved, this time on the other side. Taehyung’s palm was heavy on your skin, and you relished in the pain it left behind; your hands holding onto the pillows for any sort of grounding. “Good. Maybe this will teach you not to be so fucking spoiled,” he growled, hitting you once more. Your body jumped forwards a bit, legs weak beneath you. “Stand still.”

You tried your best to do so, enduring a few more spanks until Taehyung had deemed it sufficient. If you had been wet before, now you were completely drenched, every nerve on your body standing alert to the smallest of touches. So much in fact that, when he leaned in to place a kiss against your shoulder, you cried out at the feeling of his cock moving between your ass cheeks.

“Pretty.” His hand caressed the sensitive skin where he had hit you before. You flinched under his touch, but liked the stinging pain that came along with it. “Gonna fuck you now, love.”

You could’ve sobbed in relief. “Yes, yes, please, sir.”

Taehyung leaned back slowly, one hand curling around the base of his cock so he could guide himself inside you. His crown slid between your folds once, twice, making you whimper as it accidentally hit your clit. The sounds of your wetness were shameful, filling the room as he pressed himself against your opening. You sighed and whimpered at the feeling, for a moment thinking that your thighs would give out beneath you. Instead, Taehyung held you up as his cock gradually plunged inside you, stretching you wide.

There hadn’t been as much preparation as you’d like, but the small rush of pain was a welcomed one. You moaned out his name as his big cock continued to sink inside you, feeling every inch of it as it filled you up. Taehyung was fucking huge and, even after so long by his side, you had never truly grown used to it.

You gasped when he entered you completely, his hands giving a last pull on your hips to make sure that he couldn’t go any deeper. “S-So much,” you stuttered.

He scoffed. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Now fucking take it.” Taehyung angled his hips back, sliding his cock out of your heat until only his tip was inside. He came slamming back in, sinking into your velvety walls like they were made for him to fuck. “Pussy’s so fucking tight, it’s just pulling me in. Dripping down my cock, fuck.”

And you could only moan out at his filthy words, brain turning into a chaotic mess as he started drilling in and out of you. At that point, you had been so worked up that you could only focus on the amazing sensation of his cock fucking you open, so big and heavy inside you.

From what you could hear, Taehyung wasn’t much different. His controlling attitude had started to wash away as his high started to approach; the room filled with the low grunts and moans that came from his throat. He was holding onto you so tightly that you thought he was going to break you in half, his thrusts deep, fast and precise. Really, it was shameful how close you already were, walls tightening around his length as your legs started to shake.

“S-So good, sir, your cock feels so good,” you moaned out, lost in bliss. “I’m c-close.”

“Cum all over my cock, baby,” Taehyung grunted. “Come on, be good for me.”

You nodded, clenching your jaw as you felt your pleasure rising at a thundering speed. Taehyung wasn’t planning on slowing down either, his cock hitting deep inside your pussy and making your eyes roll back.

“Fuck, oh my—“ you cursed out, but could not finish your sentence. Your orgasm washed over you like an avalanche, whitening out your thoughts as your walls clenched around him; loud moans and whimpers of his name falling in a jumbled mess between your lips. “T-Tae…”

The lack of his preferred title seemed to be lost on him, since Taehyung was also approaching his own climax. “So fucking wet. So tight and warm for me. Perfect little cunt,” he was talking to himself at this point, letting his thoughts flow out of his mouth with no apparent direction. “Wanna cum inside your pussy, doll. Fill you up so good.”

You whined out at his words. You were still holding onto the pillows, trying to find any sort of foundation to fight against the sensitivity that was growing inside you. “P-Please, yes.”

Taehyung growled at your words, pushing his body forward until he was squeezing you against the bed. The new angle made his cock hit different spots inside your cunt, a newfound wave of euphoria starting to buzz inside you. “Want that?” His voice was a rough moan against your ear, his breath kissing your skin in dense, hot clouds. “Gonna take my cum like a good slut?”

“Yes, sir,” you said, “I want it so bad.”

“Yeah? Wanna give you a baby, gonna look so fucking pretty for me.” Taehyung’s words hit you like a ton of bricks, making you clench around his cock. You had never realized that you wanted him to say that, especially in a context like that, but it made you melt instantly. And because he knew you so well, he rapidly noticed the way your body responded to it. “You like that?”

You nodded. “Y-Yes.”

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” he moaned, placing a sloppy kiss against your neck. You could feel Taehyung throbbing inside you, signaling that he was close. “So fucking perfect. I love you so much.”

“L-Love you too,” you said back.

Taehyung sighed at your words, a last moan reverberating in his chest before he was spilling himself inside of you. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned at the feeling, getting utterly lost in the way that your walls milked his cock clean, taking everything that he gave you. “Fuck, that’s it.”

With a final, shuddering breath, Taehyung collapsed against you, placing a bunch of kisses on your shoulders. You giggled at the random softness of his actions, feeling as his cock slipped out of you. He rolled around until he was falling backwards on the bed, a final puff of air exploding upon his lips.

“Well, damn.” Taehyung laughed. You could only do the same, pushing your body closer to his. “Why don’t we do this more often?”

You rested your head on his chest. “Because adult life fucking sucks, that’s why.”

“Fair enough.” He sighed. One of his arms wrapped around your waist and he pulled you close, kissing the top of your head. A fond smile curled up on your lips. “Was I too rough?”

“Just a bit, but I liked it.” You angled your head up to look at him. Taehyung took his cue to kiss your lips instead. “Can you get something to clean me up?”

He clicked his tongue. “I’m feeling pretty lazy right now. Besides…” he trailed off, “Kinda like you like this.”

You rolled your eyes, but the teasing nature of your tone gave your faux-annoyance away. “I figured,” you said. “Wanna talk about the baby situation?”

Taehyung’s face swiftly grew serious. He apparently discovered a new source of energy, because, within a second, he was pushing you off and bolting out of bed. “Suddenly I need to find a towel.”

And you could only laugh because, as it has been proven, you were kind of a mastermind when it came to making evil plans. If Taehyung needed another one to get him talking, you wouldn’t mind elaborating it.

You wouldn’t mind at all.

#bts smut #taehyung smut #bts #kim taehyung #x you #x reader #reader insert #bts x you #bts x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #smut #pwp #marriage au

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sugarbooger513 · 3 years

Text

JJK Men x Insecure chubby Fem!reader

Today has been hard to think of myself positively, and I have friends who struggle with the same thing, so I thought I could indulge some people with some very loved characters reminding us that, no matter our size, we're perfect.

Characters: Satoru Gojo, Toji Fushiguro, Choso Kamo, Kento Nanami

Warnings: Insecurities, body dysphoria, Toji's gets spicy (sue me), suggestive at the end of Nanami's, tooth rotting fluff.

Satoru Gojo

- Let's be completely honest here, this man rarely feels insecure, if he ever does.

- He wouldn't be able to sympathize, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care. In fact, it makes him care a lot more.

- His comfort methods aren't for everyone either, so be prepared. He's trying, give him that.

- Humor. That's what this man knows. Iykyk, this man deflects any form of trauma with his humor.

- If he notices it isn't working, then he'll come up with something else because he loves you. That love tells him that he has to try.

"Oh sweetie pie, I'm home!" Satoru's voice carries easily through the house, but you can't seem to care at the moment. Your cheeks still feel somewhat sticky from the tears that have fallen the past thirty minutes.

"Honey bun? I said I-" His voice cuts off, and you know you're caught. The bed shifts where your boyfriend lowers himself beside you. "Y/N, why are you crying?"

"I-I don't want to talk about it, Satoru." He removes his blindfold with a small chuckle. "Did your favorite anime character die?" "No." "You sure? You tend to sob when-" "I said I don't want to talk about it."

He freezes at the way you lash out at him. Yeah, something is actually wrong.

"Love," his voice softens in a way that shows how worried he is, "is there anything I can do to help? Anything at all?" You're quiet for a minute, but you eventually scoot closer to him.

"You want me to hold you?" All you manage is a nod before more tears slide down your cheeks. His long arms encase you securely against him. "I can do that as long as you need. I'm here for you, Y/N."

The two of you stay like that, you crying softly into his uniform while he runs his hand up and down your back.

Eventually, your sobs turn into small sniffles, and you finally speak. "I.. I'm sorry for snapping at your earlier, Sato." He smiles at the loving nickname. "No, baby, I'm sorry for joking around. You wanna talk about it now?"

"I just... I was thinking about.. how many girls looks so much better than I do." He scoffs. "You're kidding, right?" "Sato.." "No, I mean that. It isn't a joke. Baby, we've been through this since day one. I. Want. You."

You hide your now blushing face against his chest. "But.. I just don't understand.." "Look at me, baby." When you do, his bright blue eyes seem to shimmer. "You're the love of my life. You're gorgeous, stunning, beautiful, and every other synonym to those that I'll have to get Nanami to teach me because I will remind you everyday until it gets through your thick ass skull."

His hand comes up to rest on your chubby cheek, where he starts to wipe away the drying tears. "I. Love. You. So. Freaking. Much. Y/N." Each word is punctuated with a kiss on a different part of your face, until he eventually meets your lips.

The small giggles you let out makes him smile. "There's that beautiful laugh! Come on, why don't I pop some popcorn and we go watch whatever you want on the TV?" Your shit eating grin makes him snort a bit of laughter. "Even if it ends in a favorite character dying?"

"I don't mind having to hold you a bit longer."

Toji Fushiguro

- This is also someone I don't think can really empathize with you and your insecurities.

- However, when this man falls he falls HARD

- He will do anything in his power to make you feel better.

- Well

- Anything he can do while still seeming nonchalant about it

- Lets talk about how this man would take matters into his own hands, with his own hands, to make sure you know how loved you are. (You couldn't have expected just fluff with him, give me a break y'all.)

"Y/N," Toji kicks his shoes off carelessly at the door, "I'm home." He raises a confused eyebrow when he looks around the house. Plates from your movie night yesterday lay strewn about the coffee table, still.

'She never leaves dishes out. That's weird.'

He starts to walk around the house, worry filling his chest. It just isn't like you to leave a mess, or to not greet him at the door. There's no way someone came and did something to you, right? No one is THAT dumb, surely.

When he hears the small sniffles coming from your shared bedroom, he breathes a small sigh of relief. "Y/N? I'm coming in." He pushes the bedroom door open to see you cuddling his pillow while laying on your side.

His eyes widen at the sight of your body trembling from the small sobs. "Y/N?" He walks around the bed to kneel in front of you. "What happened?"

"N-Nothing Toji. Sorry, I-I know the house is a w-wreck." "Shut up about the damn house. I don't care. Why are you crying?"

You finally sit up, which lets him sit beside you on the bed. "I just.. Bad day." "Who do I need to stab?" "T-Toji?! You can't solve everything by stabbing!" He shrugs a bit. "You can try."

He smiles sweetly when you slap his arm. "That isn't funny." "Hmmm, but it made your cheeks flush." "Toji Fushiguro!" "Alright, alright. You wanna tell me what's wrong now?"

"I just.. looked in a mirror for too long, babe. Don't worry about-" "I'm lost. What do you mean you looked in one for too long?" You sigh, knowing he hates vague answers.

"My body is disgusting me today, Toji." He scrunches his eyebrows and leans in a bit closer to you. Your face heats up from the slight glare in his eyes.

"Looks the same to me." "Toji, I-" "Correct yourself." His already deep voice seems to drop even lower. Your entire body trembles. "S-Sir."

"Good girl. Now, let me get this straight. You don't think you're attractive." You shake your head, suddenly feeling the tears come back to your eyes. "Why not?" "J-Just.. my body.. it isn't.." "Skinny?" The word hurts your heart, but you nod, knowing he expects some sort of answer.

"So? You're exactly what I need, Y/N." You glance up to meet his loving gaze. "N-need?" "Don't play dumb. You know I need you. Now, we have to fix those insecurities."

He stands, offering his hand out to you. When you take it, he pulls you to your feet.

"Now," he groans as he lays back down on the bed, "I've had a tiring day at work. I want you to strip and come take a seat." "A-a seat?" His smirk tells you what you need to know before he elaborates. "I AM rather starved. Come on, I'm pretty impatient."

"To-Sir, I'm too.." "Heavy? Try again. You aren't getting out of this." He snaps his fingers, and the sound runs deep into your core. His eyes watch you hungrily as you start to get out of your pants.

"Now, for every one of your orgasms, I want to hear 'I'm Toji's pretty princess.' Understand?" "Y-yes sir."

You have no idea what posses you, but you finally let out you own witty comment. "You could at least take me to dinner first."

"You cheeky brat, don't worry. I have plans for your meal."

Hope you don't mind being hoarse for a while. You had to repeat just how pretty you were a number of times.

Choso Kamo

- SWEETEST MOTHER FUCKER I SWEAR

- He doesn't see a single flaw in you, honestly.

- Plus, he doesn't really understand beauty standards. All he knows is he loves every inch of you.

- Nothing goes unloved by this big ass baby.

- You crying would probably bring him to tears because he feeds off your emotion.

- But there is no doubt this man will do anything and everything to see your smile again.

- A true king who just wants his queen as happy as she makes him.

He left you for maybe an hour. Maybe. Choso just had to run and pick up a movie from Yuji.

"Angel, Yuji said that we have to-" He drops the movie the instant he sees tears in your eyes. "L-love? What happened?"

He rushes to your side and wastes no time wrapping you in his strong embrace. Your hands grip his shirt in a feeble attempt to pull him closer.

"What happened? Do you need something? A doctor?" His eyes are scanning your body for any signs of pain. His hands running gently over your back, arm, sides, but everything seems normal.

"I-I'm okay, Cho." "No, you aren't. Please, angel, don't lie to me." His own eyes start to fill with tears, but he tries to will them away. He knows he shouldn't be crying, but seeing you in any pain hurts him just as much.

"Cho, I just.. It's stupid." His large hands cup your face so you're forced to meet his eyes. "Nothing that makes you cry is stupid. Absolutely nothing, my love."

"I.. I tried to put on a hoodie of yours because I was cold." He blinks in confusion. "Was.. was it dirty?" "No I.. I stretched it out.." he tilts his head.

"Is that all?" You nod, but even more tears come to your eyes. "I just hate how big I am.. I thought you would find it cute to come home and see me in your clothes but.. I just messed them up.." He stands, suddenly walking into the kitchen. "C-Cho?"

"I bought some of your favorite ice cream. You know, the kind you always crave on your period. I figure we can cuddle and you can enjoy it while we watch a movie."

"I- I don't really want anything to eat." He smiles, still grabbing it and a spoon. "I know, but just in case. Listen," he places the carton on the table next to you, "you're gorgeous. Every part of you just screams beauty. Nothing could ever change that. Not your size, not you stretching out a stupid hoodie, not you crying, nothing."

He opens the carton, only to get a spoonful out and kneel in front of you. "Open up, angel." You do as he says and allow him to feed you the ice cream. You can't help but smile as you eat it.

His index finger wipes a few old tears from your cheeks. "There's that smile I love. Now, I think we need a movie and some cuddles. How does that sound?" You can only nod, absolutely floored by how much Choso truly loves you.

No more negative thoughts came to your mind while you laid against his chest. He even took a few times to feed you more ice cream throughout the movie.

Oh yeah, he totally bought new hoodies in a bigger size so you could wear them around the house without fear of stretching them.

Kento Nanami

- KING ENERGY

- You can't tell me this man doesn't want someone who acts as his pillow. Come on.

- That being said, Nanami knows how it is to be insecure.

- Whether it's over body insecurity or not, that can be argued either way. Still, insecurities aren't something he's ignorant about.

- On days where you can't seem to like your body, he'll do whatever you need.

- Need to be alone? No problem. Need someone to talk to you? Covered. Just need to be told you're loved? He'll tell you as many times as it takes.

- However, he can't help but be blunt. That's just who he is.

- He does it out of love for you, though. He never wants you to believe something that isn't true.

It's really hard for you and Nanami to get the same day off of work, and today was no different. Since you were the one working today, Nanami decided to take up cleaning the house and preparing dinner. He would also insist on doing the dishes, but he knew better. You never allow him to do all of the work.

He watched the clock hit five thirty and smiled. No doubt, that was your car he heard pull into the driveway. Now that you were home, he could surprise you by telling you that he managed to get the next five days off, which matched your schedule.

The front door opens, and he's quick to call out a "Welcome home, dear. Dinner will be done soon." He turns his body, preparing to catch you in his embrace as usual. However, all that happens is you call back, "Thanks, Ken."

His eyebrows furrow, and he quickly takes dinner off the stove so he can go check on you. He's not one to forget anniversaries or anything like that, so his mind is going through any possible reason you just called him Ken.

"Bad day at work, dear?" He wipes his hand on his apron as he comes around the corner. You were already sitting on the couch, eyes on your phone. "Yeah, I guess." "Okay," he sighs and sits beside you, "would you like to talk about it?" When you finally look at him, his eyes widen. Your eyes are puffy, as if you had been crying.

"Y/N.." "It's just coworker drama, Ken, don't worry too much about it." He scrunches his face. Those women you work with always pissed him off. He's noticed them staring at him whenever he brings you lunch. "Well, humor me a bit. What happened today?"

He just knows you can't resist gossiping with him after a work day. "I-I don't want to repeat it, Ken." The worried look in his eyes makes you whimper. "What?"

"I'm not used to you calling me 'Ken' at home." "Sorry, honey. It's nothing you did." He smiles softly and reaches to cup one of your cheeks in his hand. "Are you sure you don't want to tell me?" You do. God, you do because you know you'll cry again and he'll be here to hold you through it.

"They started talking about you." "Me?" "Yeah," you look at your hands, already feeling your chest tighten, "and started laughing at how you're.. settling for someone who is as big as I am.."

Nanami's soft looks suddenly turns harsh. How dare they say stuff like that? What's worse is he's sure they knew you could hear them!

"Really?" When you nod, a tear falls onto your lap. "It just.. really hurt knowing that I'm not the only one who thinks that." "Y/N.." He pulls you into a hug with a soft sigh.

"Don't think like that. Dear, if I wanted anything different than what I have now, you would know it." You sigh and cuddle into his warm embrace. "I know, but-" "But nothing, my love. I love you, only you, forever you. Do you understand?" You glance up and he places a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Yeah.. I love you too, Kento." "I have an idea." "Uh huh?" His smirk has you worried. "Well, we both have the next five days off.." "We do?!"

The excitement in your voice has him chuckling. "There's my pretty laugh. Yes, we do. I'm thinking on your first day back.. you go in with a ring on your finger."

You blink in confusion. "K-Kento, you don't-" "Oh I do. Am I the person to joke about wanting to marry you?" Your eyes start to fill, yet again, with tears. However, these tears make Nanami also tear up a bit.

"Are you... asking..?" "I have a ring just for you in my suit jacket, Y/N. Just say you'll marry me." He isn't really expecting you to jump on him, so when you do, he falls from the couch to the floor. "You know I'll marry you, Ken!"

The two of you share a long kiss, complete with tears and laughter. "Well, now that that's decided. I think we should get a head start on something." "What would that be?"

He stands before securing you in his arms bridal style. "The Prehoneymoon." "That isn't a thing, honey." He smirks before playfully smacking your ass. "For you, Mrs. Nanami, anything is possible."

@katgalle @savonline

#jjk headcanons #nanami kento x y/n #toji fushiguro x reader #choso x reader #satoru gojo x reader #nanami fluff #toji fluff #choso fluff #gojo fluff

746 notes · View notes

gguksgalaxy · 4 years

Text

Stranded | JJK | E2L

Jungkook’s offer to help you study for your exam is unwelcome. His entire presence is unwelcome. You don’t want help from the guy who passes all his classes without even trying. It’s annoying — he is annoying. From the way he grins whenever he catches you staring at him, to the way his eyes shine whenever he smiles at you. Oh, and let’s not forget the way his tattoos shift when he stretches or the way his jawline sharpens when he’s focused. Nope, you definitely can’t stand him.

›› AU: Enemies to lovers, fuck/badboy!Jungkook ›› Genre: Fluff / Smut / Angst ›› Rating: NC-17 (explicit sexual content, 18+) ›› Pairing: JJK x Reader ›› Word Count: 13k ›› Jungkook Snuggle Drabbles. Warnings Include: A lot of swearing, heavy themes of miscommunication and strong judgements, Jungkook sleeps around a lot, university related stress, brief mention of past underage drinking, emotional and romantic angst, argument, the desecration of a mug. Sexual content: Protected sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, face sitting/riding.

A/N: This one's for you @fallinforkoo I hope that you like it!! This is not something I would usually write but the idea popped up when seeing the request so here she is! A little cliché but I hope it's original enough. Let me know what you guys think!

“As your best friend,” Taehyung says sheepishly over the phone, “I really need you to do me a favour.”

You groan, leaning your head over the edge of the bed. “I don’t like where this is going.”

He hums. He doesn’t even laugh. There’s just a brief silence before he asks you the impossible. “I need you to invite Jungkook for the get-together on Friday.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” you spit. “Taehyung, my best friend, the platonic love of my life. I will do anything for you. Literally anything. I would suck your toes if you asked me, but I won’t do that.”

Now he laughs, loud and deep. It only makes you sulk more. Inviting Jeon Jungkook into your humble abode? To have him walk around with that smug—and delectably gorgeous—grin on his face as he finds something to make fun of? Not over your dead body. Not in a million years.

“Please, do it for me.”

You vigorously shake your head. “I don’t see how I would be doing you a favour by inviting him. You don’t even like him!”

“I mean...I really don’t mind him. But I like Jimin, a lot, and I feel bad for excluding his friend all the time, it’s starting to get weird. Can’t you just invite him over? I promise you won’t have to talk to him.”

Oh, but you do. Because Jungkook always manages to weasel under your skin and get you worked up to a point where you just have to say something. It’s not your fault that he’s such an ass. He just rubs you all the wrong ways. “I am in a constant state of wanting to rip his head off. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Jungkook is just so...You really cannot stand him. First of all, he doesn’t study. All he does is party and sleep around with random girls. Yet, he still somehow manages to be at the top of the class. Secondly, he’s a dick. He has no respect for both his elders and you. Any chance he gets he will make fun of you or blatantly insult you. And lastly, he looks too good and he knows it. Walking around campus just basking in the attention from all the girls, and guys, who want him despite his reputation.

Taehyung snorts. “If I were you, I would be more worried that you’re in a constant state of wanting to suck his dick.”

“I’d rather snap his dick in half.” Sometimes you wonder why you’re friends with Taehyung. After all, he’s the one who told Jimin to bring along his friend. Now, you’re regularly exposed to Jeon Jungkook’s incessant flirting with anything that breathes, constant whining about just about everything, and complete lack of personal space. Taehyung had been certain that if you got to know Jungkook outside of class, it would make you more amicable towards each other. However, it’s only made it worse.

“You know, sometimes people lie about something so often that they start to feel like it’s the truth.”

You roll your eyes, sitting up on the bed. It’s noon already. You really should be studying for your Psychology of Law exam. Also known as the course from hell. As a law student, you really can’t make sense of the material. All the mumbling about internal thought processes and stressors has your mind logging off. You’re chapters behind. You don’t even know where to start. Because unlike a certain someone, you actually have to study. Even with all-nighters, thorough summaries, and flashcards, you’ve still managed to fail quite a few classes. The future of your law degree literally balances on this one class. If you fail, you lose your scholarship.

“Are you still with me?” Taehyung asks.

“Yeah, I’m just considering defenestrating myself. Anything better than studying for psych.”

“Even inviting Jungkook?”

“Anything but that.” It’s not like Taehyung is completely wrong. Jungkook looks like a model when he actually decides to groom himself instead of showing up to class in sweats and uncombed hair. You’re way too aware that he works out five days a week. Or that he’s got tats lining his arm, intricate designs that—No. You’re not falling down this hole today.

Taehyung’s typing something up, probably studying for his own exams. “I will let you study then. Just please, invite him over. I will forever be in your debt. Be the better person.”

The sweet lining to Taehyung’s plea actually manages to work for once. He’s your best friend, after all. He would probably do the same thing for you. It’s just not that fun to be around Jungkook when part of you—as much as you may deny it—feels some type of way about him.

“I will consider it.”

“That’s not a no.”

“Don’t make me change it back to a no, Kim.”

He chuckles. “Someday, you will thank me. That day being the one when you finally come to terms with your feelings.”

“Bye, Taehyung,” you grumble, ending the call and throwing the phone down on the duvet.

So yes, maybe you do have a thing for Jungkook. Doesn’t make him any less annoying. If anything, it makes him even more insufferable. Why did you have to develop a weird crush on a guy you can’t even stand? The world doesn’t have to be cruel like that. But here you are. Not that it matters. Jungkook would sleep with just about any girl but you. Which says more about them.

Reluctantly, you get up and grab your books from your desk. Studying is easier in the living room, away from distractions.

Your peace doesn’t last long. Not even halfway through your first coffee, your doorbell rings.

Groaning, you get up and prepare your best ‘no I don’t want to buy whatever you’re selling’ face. Upon unlocking the door, that face falters.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you spit out the moment you see Jungkook’s big doe eyes. He’s standing on your doorstep like he’s supposed to be here. With his backpack nonchalantly slung over one shoulder.

He looks past you, into your apartment. “Oh, you started studying for psych?”

Your living room is a mess. “Well, I was trying to start, but I’ve been rudely interrupted by someone who has no invitation to be here.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m here to make sure that you don’t fail another class and have to drop out.” Like he owns the place, he pushes past you and waltzes inside. He drops his backpack and readjusts his baseball cap, showing off his forehead and chocolate brown hair. It’s really starting to get long.

“I don’t need your help.” There’s no way he’s here just to help you study. And even if he was, he’s just going to distract you. You’re not friends. He must have some ulterior motive for being here. Jeon Jungkook doesn’t study, let alone help people study. Not to your knowledge at least. “I can manage just fine on my own.”

He grabs his laptop from his bag. “What part of ‘having to drop out if you fail another class’ did you not understand?” He puts the device down and gets comfortable on your couch. As if he’s done it before.

You cross your arms over your chest. “Who told you about that?”

He shrugs. “Jimin mentioned it, he must have it from Taehyung. Does it really matter?”

“Yes, it matters,” you sneer. “I didn’t ask you to be here. I don’t want you to be here. There’s no way I’m going to get anything done with you around. Get the fuck out.” You point a finger at the door, waiting for him to leave. “Do you not hear me?”

“Oh, I heard you. I’m just waiting for you to get over yourself and realise that you actually need my help.”

“I don’t.”

“Can you tell me the difference between compliance and suggestion in the context of a police hearing?” he questions, leaning back and propping his clunky boot-clad feet onto the table.

You press your lips together in a thin line, thinking about a possible answer.

He grins. “Any idea what the Reid Technique is and why it is or isn’t ethical?”

“No,” you grumble.

“You know what the pros and cons are of an Oslo style eyewitness lineup?”

You shake your head, dropping your arms in defeat. He’s got you. You don’t know anything. Maybe you do need his help. As long as he tries to be nice, you can give him the benefit of the doubt. Another year of your degree is definitely worth it.

Jungkook pats the spot on the couch beside him. “Let’s get started, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover if we want to get you a good grade.”

And so you get to work. Jungkook makes himself a little too comfortable in your home. Aside from pulling out his flashcards, multiple summaries and annotated materials, he actually slips into the kitchen to make tea. He raids your pantry for snacks and pulls out your blanket from under the table.

“What?” He says, mouth stuffed with gummy bears while he unfolds the blanket. “I’m sorry, but your apartment is really fucking cold. Since you’re dressed as if you’re going to the North Pole, I assumed the radiator must be broken.”

“It has been almost a week now. My landlord is being an ass about it. Also, I’m wearing normal clothes that normal people wear when it’s cold outside. Unlike you, with your short-sleeves and thin coat.”

“It’s October.”

“It’s nine degrees outside. You’re insane.”

“No,” he says, sitting back down with the blanket around his shoulders. “I’m just hot.”

A reluctant smile pulls at your lips. Why must you betray yourself?

He leans in close, inspecting your face. “I can’t believe I lived to see the day. You actually smiled at one of my jokes.”

If he’s good at one thing, it’s definitely proving that he’s an annoying shit. “I’m laughing at how pathetic you are.”

“At least I’m not the one who tried to hide her smile.”

“And I’m not the one who forced his way into this apartment. I’d watch out, some people might start to think you actually like being around me.” You turn back towards his laptop, scrolling through the document to the next topic. Police hearings.

Jungkook puts his hand down behind you so he can get closer—too close—and look over your shoulder. “Maybe,” he whispers, “I do like spending time with you.”

You whip your head around so fast you nearly knock heads with him. He doesn’t move. Both your noses basically touching. At this proximity you can see all the fine details in his skin. The flecks of lighter brown in his eyes that really do shine. The moles on his nose, the scar on his cheek.

“Nah.” He pulls away. “I’m just messing with you. I still don’t like you.”

What on earth did you do to make him come over here? If he dislikes you so much, he shouldn’t have bothered. You’re not a charity case. “If you’d just let me fail, you wouldn’t have to put up with me again.”

He tuts. “Where’s the fun in that? I’d honestly miss your bad comebacks and petty remarks.”

“Excuse me, my comebacks are not bad?”

“They’re mediocre at best, ma’am,” he laughs, grin showing the fullness of his cheeks that make him look deceptively cute.

You shiver at the thought. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not cute. Yes, he’s probably a good guy deep down, but he’s not cute. Jeon Jungkook is and always will be an annoying, self-entitled, arrogant brat. Nothing is going to change your mind. Not even the way your heart beats faster from just having him so close.

“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” you bite.

“I’m not even going to give you any points for that. You didn’t even try!” He makes an exasperated gesture as he grabs another handful of gummies.

‘Childish’ should be added to the list. “Are you here to help me study or not?”

Jungkook nods, sitting cross-legged. “Just so I get to bother you for another year.”

The two of you get back to work. He takes you through a very detailed and too dramatic explanation of the Reid technique. You find yourself captivated by how passionate he seems. He sure does know a lot about the subject.

Jungkook turns out to be a very active talker. He makes very detailed descriptions and uses his hands to explain things. It’s easy to understand him, but it’s way harder to memorise it. As the material gets more complicated, he gets more serious and you start to lose track. His frown deepens, dimple-like creases appearing in his cheek that make him look sharper and older. You can’t help but stare.

He’s so handsome. The tattoos that circle around his left arm shift as he speaks. The same way that his earrings dangle as he moves. You get caught up in him, the way he talks, the passion that rolls off him in waves.

“Are you gawking at me?” He says, stopping his movements mid-air.

Cheeks flushed, you try to come up with a smart reply. “I was thinking whether your head has always looked this big.”

His lips pull into a straight line. “I’m here trying to do my best to explain to you what the difference is between an Oslo confrontation and a sequential lineup, and you’re worried about the size of my fucking head?”

“I mean, it’s awfully big, no?” You poke his forehead.

He grabs your wrist in return, pulling your body towards him. “Can you at least try to appreciate my effort?”

“I’m listening!”

Wetting his lips, he arches an eyebrow. “Explain the difference to me.”

Well, you weren’t listening that intently. “Uh, a sequential lineup has a lower chance of causing false positives.”

“That’s the last sentence I said, you can do better.” He lets go of you so you can lean back. For a second, he actually seems pissed off. Maybe you should try, he’s doing his best after all. It’s just hard when he’s here looking this good.

“Oslo confrontations feature the suspects in a lineup at the same time, whereas a sequential lineup shows them one by one.” That’s all you got.

“Well,” he says, throwing you a gummy from the bag. “You got one point out of five.”

Treat halfway to your mouth, you stop. “One?!”

He nods. “And I’m being generous with you. First of all, you cannot call them suspects, they’re candidates or possible suspects. There’s usually only one suspect and the rest are actors who look like the suspect. You also missed the part where, during the sequential lineup, the witness doesn’t get to see all the suspects. Once they pick the one they think is the perpetrator, they will not get to see the additional candidates.” Why does this sound so hot when he says it?

God, you’re going insane. “Well, I’ll try to remember that and the seven-hundred other things you said. All the blabbering you do makes it really hard.” It comes out harsher than you intended. From the way Jungkook stays silent, you know it must’ve hit home.

He gets up, making your heart sink. “I think it’s time for a break. You’re getting frustrated. Do you want to order pizza?”

“I don’t recall asking you to stay over for dinner.”

Jungkook takes a long, deep breath, closing his eyes. You can feel the anger build up. “Listen, I’m here to help you. The least you can do is fucking appreciate it. Be stubborn all you want, but you need this. You want a shot at this degree. I’m here, because as much as I can’t stand you, I won’t enjoy watching you get kicked off the entire program because you’re struggling with the material.” There’s a heavy pause. You let his words sink in. The level of concern is surprising. It’s sweet. “So do you want to order pizza or not? Because I’m starving.”

You nod. “Pizza sounds good.”

The tension ebs away after that. Jungkook goes into the kitchen and comes back with a mug filled with milk, of all things. You bite your tongue.

“I want pineapple on my pizza,” he says.

Pausing, you raise your eyebrows. “You cannot be serious.”

“Depends. How much do you hate pineapple?” His shit eating grin returned like it was never gone. It gives him away.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you speak; “So, double pineapple for you?”

Suddenly, his face falters. “Whoa, you can’t actually do that to me.”

“You’re the one who said he likes pineapple!”

“It was a joke. No person in their right mind would put fruit on their pizza.” He sits next to you, taking another sip of his milk. “I’m really not picky though, but the one with the jalapenos is good. Or the chili chicken.” Jungkook scoots closer so he can scroll through the menu on your phone, hand brushing against yours.

This way, you get a clear view of the rose tattoo on his hand. It’s beautiful, detailed but still in a traditional style. It suits him, as do his other tattoos. Though this one has always stood out to you.

“I’m just going to get pepperoni,” you say after a while.

Jungkook sighs, then turns his head to whisper in your ear; “Boring.”

Startled, you shove him so hard he falls onto his back. “Don’t be such a child. I’m not going to make you eat it.”

When he sits back up, his shirt rises and reveals the edge of a narrow, toned waist. You look away, focusing on actually ordering the pizza. Jungkook really doesn’t have to be so casually attractive. He’s not even trying and you can’t keep your eyes off him, noticing something new every minute. A good reason to not spend any more time with him after this.

“Gimme.” He plucks your phone out of your hands so he can order his own pizza. With the utmost concentration, he scrolls and types in some things. No doubt using your pre-set credit card to pay for it. “Wait,” he says, sitting up straight. “Whoa, you’re friends with Yoongi? As in Min Yoongi? The guy who won this year’s mock court?”

Gasping, you dart over to grab the phone from him. “Don’t go through my messages!” With one hand on your chest, he manages to keep the device out of your reach. “Jungkook!”

His eyes move over the screen, reading your messages with the third year law student. “Why didn’t you just ask him for help, huh? He seems to like you, and that’s something. I don’t think Yoongi likes anybody.”

You try harder to grab your phone from his hands. It must look insane, your body bent over his, him trying to find ways to hold you off and keep the phone out of your reach. Somehow, you end up squashed between his—way too strong—thighs.

“Jungkook give me my phone back!” you whine.

Something on the screen makes him raise his eyebrows. “Are you two like—you know? Cuz I’ve heard some stuff and—”

You shake your head, getting uneasy with the fact that he’s really reading your personal messages. “I don’t like Yoongi like that.”

Jungkook lifts his leg, using his knee to push you back. He’s got way too much strength in his body. “Okay, but I’m not sure that he knows that. He’s not a nice guy, you should steer clear of him.”

“Oh, and you would know how? It’s not like you’re such a gentleman.” Again, you try to jump for your phone, but he stops you in time by grabbing your wrist.

Face serious, he holds your gaze. “I’m not kidding. We run in the same circles. He’s a total asshole, you don’t want to get involved with him. You can do better.”

That sure is a way to silence you. You frown, settling back into your seat as Jungkook keeps scrolling through the chat. “I’m not into him, but he’s been texting me for a while. I was in his group for mock court.” Finally, you get your phone back, but your stomach feels uneasy looking at it. Perhaps Yoongi’s messages are a bit forward.

“I don’t know Yoongi well enough to be able to say for sure, but I know enough to tell you that he doesn’t talk to girls like you because he wants to be friends,” Jungkook says with a hand lingering on your thigh.

Way to make you feel good about yourself, Jeon. “What does that mean, girls like me?”

His face changes, eyes wide.

“What are you trying to say?” you press.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he leans forward onto his knees. “All I’m saying is that you don’t deserve to get played by some asshole who’s just trying to get into your pants.”

“Oh.” Is he being for real? He’s looking out for you? This is not how this is supposed to go. Jungkook shouldn’t be nice to you. He shouldn’t be helping you, or care about your wellbeing. He’s a dick and the two of you squabble and yell at each other. Yet, your chest warms at his words. Even if you weren’t looking to get together with Yoongi, it’s good to know he might have alternative motives. “Thank you.”

All he does is nod, before he grabs his laptop to resume where you guys left off. The awkwardness slowly dissipates as he takes you through the entire lineup thing again, just so you’ve got it down. After that you move onto the remaining subjects.

Today sure is strange. You never expected things to be so comfortable with Jungkook. Despite his exasperating personality and your on and off bickering, his presence is pleasant. It doesn’t take long for you to sink into the couch, drinking your third large cup of coffee.

Completely focussed on his monologue, you ask questions very sparingly, enraptured by him. You knew he was smart, he passes his classes with grades of 80% or higher for a reason. However, it’s different to see it in action.

Pizza arrives a little late, much to Jungkook’s dismay. Turns out he’s quite cranky when he gets hungry. He devours his pizza way faster than you can get through half of yours, and he’s quick to inch towards a slice from your box. You smack his hand away, reminding him of how he slandered you for your topping choice. He can have your leftovers from yesterday

“You call this pasta?” he questions in a disgusted tone, crouched down by the fridge

“Take it or starve. Your choice.”

He gets up, nose scrunched. “I’d rather starve, thanks. What exactly do you excel at? Since it’s not school, wit, or cooking.”

“Aim,” you spit, flicking a piece of pepperoni at him. It hits him straight in the cheek and you burst out into a fit of laughter. He stares at you in utter disbelief, removing the greasy piece of meat from his face. Tongue pressed to his cheek, he fights off his own smile—or an insult.

Eventually, he sits back down and goes over the remaining material while you eat. The end comes faster than you expected, his eyes darting to the clock.

“It’s getting late, I should probably go home.”

“What?” You pout. “How can you leave me to my own devices like this?!”

“Because I did what I could. I took you through all the material, now it’s up to you to try and memorise it. I’ve sent you my summaries and I’ll leave my flashcards here.” He grabs his things, meticulously stuffing them back into his backpack. With a heavy heart, you hand him his cap that had fallen to the floor.

Jungkook pushes his hair back, putting his cap on. He looks as nonchalant as he did when he came in. Backpack slung over one shoulder, hand shoved into his pocket. “Good luck. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you mumble. “Thanks.”

“I’m glad my presence was enjoyed.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I only endured you because I want to pass.” Part of that is true. Though, he wasn’t as bad to hang out with as you had originally assumed. Maybe it’s because his friends aren’t around to show off to. Or because he genuinely wanted to help. Which is still weird. “Good luck to you too.”

He waves you goodbye, opening up the door, only to be met with a gust of wind. The sound of rain enters your apartment. Water plummets from the sky by the bucket.

“Shit,” Jungkook peers outside, hesitating in the doorway. “If I don’t show up tomorrow morning, please assume that I have drowned.”

You would’ve laughed at the idea of him getting soaking wet any other day. He came here to help you study and now he has to walk home through the rain. No doubt he’s going to catch a cold dressed the way he is. Maybe you should listen to Taehyung and be the better person for once.

Getting up, you pull him back inside by the string of his backpack. “You can’t go out when it’s like that, you’ll get sick.”

He turns with a smile. “As much as I would like to see you squirm a little longer, I need to study too.”

“You study?”

“How else do you think I get good grades? Eat books for breakfast?”

You shrug. “We can study together tonight?”

Stepping closer, Jungkook forces you back inside. Almost nose to nose. Your heart skips a beat when his breath fans over your face. “Is this just a lame excuse from you to spend more time with me?”

“No. But I can only imagine the tragedy that will befall me if you catch a cold because you were out here helping me study.” You poke a finger into his chest. A grave mistake, it’s way firmer than you’d thought. “If I let you stay over, you no longer owe me one.”

“I’m sorry, but it really sounds like you just want me to stay.” Jungkook inches closer, backing you against the couch.

You open your mouth to say something when your phone rings. Looking over to where it lies on the couch, you see Taehyung’s name displayed. He can wait. You glance back up at Jungkook, who’s nearly chest to chest with you, and also has his eyes locked on the phone.

Then, he grins.

You act fast, snatching the phone from the couch and declining the call before he even gets a chance to touch it. Taehyung really doesn’t need to know that Jungkook is here.

Jungkook himself, however, picks up on this. He chuckles lightly, arching his eyebrow. “Are you trying to hide the fact that I’m here?’”

“I wouldn’t say I was trying to hide it, but I really don’t need my friends to think I’m hanging out with you.”

Jungkook drops his bag in the chair again, curious glint in his eyes. “And why is that?”

“Because,” you start, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t want to be associated with the likes of you.”

“What am I now? A villain?”

“No, you’re a stuck up fuckboy who does nothing but party and sleep with random girls and yet somehow still manages to pass all his classes. You’re annoying, egotistical, insufferable, pushy, invasive and disrespectful.” You let out a deep breath. Yeah, maybe Jungkook’s been nice to you today, but he hasn’t changed.

He rolls his eyes. “Well then. I’ll have you know that you are nothing more than an average, boring girl struggling to get by. You’re opinionated, crass, entitled, standoffish, a bad listener, impossibly stubborn and a bit of an airhead.” The words leave him as if they mean nothing. “It’s not like I’d want to be associated with the likes of you either. But here I am, stranded because of the storm. So you, my dear, are stuck with me tonight. You did offer for me to stay over, after all.”

“Whatever,” you breathe, “let’s just try to study.”

The two of you return to your previous position on the couch, but now, he faces you. With the flashcards in hand, Jungkook reaches into his bag and pulls out a container filled with Maltesers.

The rules are simple. You take turns asking each other questions. If you get it right, you get a chocolate, you get it wrong the person who asked the question gets a chocolate. Easy enough, right? Now that you feel a bit more steady with the material, you should be able to answer some questions correctly. Even if it’s just to rob Jungkook of the satisfaction of eating the entire thing on his own.

Two questions in and the bickering starts. Jungkook’s whining because he’s cold and you can’t turn up the radiator. But since he was the one to leave the door open, it’s his fault that it’s so cold in here to begin with. You’ve long hogged the blanket for yourself and you don’t intend on sharing it. It’s the only barrier that’s keeping you from touching his feet.

“Please,” he pouts. “I’m so cold, you can’t let me freeze to death in this fucking igloo.”

You pull the blanket closer. “No. It’s mine.”

He whines. “Come on, it’s big enough for both of us. It’ll be warmer if we share.”

“No.”

“You do realise I could just take it from you by force.”

“You would not.”

He sits up straighter, putting a hand on the edge of the fabric. “I’m giving you the option now. Either you share, or I’m pulling it from your cold, grabby hands. If you’re just afraid to snuggle with me, you can just say so.”

In order to not admit defeat, you give up half of the blanket so he can shove his legs under it. He extends his legs way past his side of the couch, his feet touching your lower back. You have no choice but to fold one of your legs over his, the other extended by his side. Indeed, it’s warmer this way.

“Now, where were we?” He flips to his next card. “Ah, yes. Weapon focus effect.”

That one you remember clearly. “It’s when a witness’ attention was so focused on the weapon present at the incident that they fail to remember any significant details about the perpetrator. It’s an involuntary process that often leads to inaccurate descriptions of the attackers.” You definitely got that one, no doubt. It’s easy.

Jungkook throws you a chocolate. “Good job, you’re doing well. It seems you listened to what I had to say after all.”

“I mean,” you say, popping the chocolate into your mouth. “I didn’t have that much of a choice but to listen, now did I?”

“You were visually undressing me the entire time. I had assumed your mind was busy with...other things.” He’s doing it on purpose, trying to get some type of reaction from you. Instead, you just bite your lip, not knowing what to say. “Oh, was I right? Tell me, what were you thinking about.”

You let out a sound, throwing a pillow at him. “I wasn’t thinking anything. And I wasn’t undressing you.”

“No, you were thinking of how big my head was, right? Would it,” he pauses, lifting up the blanket to peer underneath, “fit between your thighs?”

“What is wrong with you!” You scream, hands covering your face that quickly turns red.

He laughs in return. “You’re so easily flustered. I’d almost call it cute.”

Peering through your fingers, you frown. “Almost?”

“Yeah, almost. Not quite, because you’re still you.”

In a surge of confidence, you sit up straight and grab the stack of cards again. Not looking at him as you speak. “How about, instead of imagining what I taste like, you tell me what a flashbulb memory is.”

Inches away from choking on his spit, Jungkook doesn’t manage to come up with a smart retort. He just answers your questions with pursed lips and distant eyes. It’s correct though, so you get to throw him a chocolate. Which of course, he catches with his mouth. Show off.

It goes on for another while, storm raging outside. With the winds turned, you can now clearly hear the pattering against your window. You can’t imagine what Jungkook would’ve done had he been walking through this storm. It’s only getting worse.

Time ticks by fast. Soon, Jungkook is left with one last flashcard in his hands. And you are determined to get that last chocolate. He smirks to himself, probably aware that you don’t know the answer to this. But if anything, you are determined to prove him wrong.

“Tell me,” he trails, “what is the difference between compliance and suggestibility?”

You know this. He’s explained it three times. So you’re confident in your next words. “Compliance is when a witness giving a testimony willingly accepts a suggestion but is aware that the suggestion is wrong. Suggestibility is when they believe that the suggestion is right and thus take it for the truth. Both are problematic, but suggestibility is harder to expose.”

Jungkook tuts. “You got them switched around.”

“Huh?! That can’t be right!”

“Sure is, the last chocolate is mine.”

You snatch the bag away before he can grab it. “I don’t think so. Let me see that card.”

“Are you accusing me of lying?”

“For chocolate? I sure am. Let me see.” You crawl over to his side, squishing yourself between him and the couch. “Jungkook,” you whine when he covers the card with his hand, “let me see. My grade depends on this.”

He chuckles at you. “It does not. I’m confident that you will pass regardless.”

You try to pry the card out of his hand, but it’s no use. The grip he has on the thing is too strong. He manages to hold you down without even breaking a sweat. It’s a few beats before you can realise that you’re now entirely pressed up against him. You can feel the muscles in his thighs shift, the soft skin of his arm against yours

“Let me have the chocolate and I will show you,” he whispers.

Flushed, you stop struggling. “Whatever, I know I’m right.”

Jungkook then reveals the card to you, showing you that you indeed, were right. “I’m glad you’re finally confident in your abilities. That’s the key to passing a test.”

Has he really been testing you this entire time? That’s sure one way to do the trick. Without replying, you sink into his side. Silently enjoying his warmth. It’s comfortable to sit like this, now that it’s night and the apartment continues to get colder. You don’t mind, really. Inhaling slightly, you catch a whiff of his fresh floral scent. It’s mixed with a sharp edge that suits him well.

As Jungkook grabs the stack of cards you got wrong to revise them, you don’t move. The two of you just get comfortable like that. It’s easier to see the cards the way anyhow. You can just look at them together. Plus, you’re starting to feel a little sleepy and don’t want to move. He seems equally as content, just reciting the questions and explaining why you got them wrong.

“Okay so,” you say, pointing at something on the card. “It’s not so much an issue on the witness’ side as it is on the police’s?”

Jungkook nods, looking at you. “They’re the ones leading the witness. It’s not the witness’ fault that they take on their opinion.”

You hum, meeting his gaze. He doesn’t falter, almost as if he’s searching your eyes. “Something wrong?”you ask, voice hushed, goosebumps appearing on the back of your neck. There’s a mole right below his bottom lip which is plump and looks soft. His top lip is more defined, making for a cute pout. The more you look, the more you notice all his moles. On his nostril, his cheek, his ear.

“No,” he answers eventually. Voice strained. “I think you have a pimple growing between your brows.”

“Get lost!” You shove your elbow into his side, pulling a pained groan from him. “You’re so stupid.”

For a moment he’s quiet, just rubbing his side and shifting so he can get more comfortable. One of his legs falls off the couch, the other still between yours. “You really hate me, huh?”

At any other given moment, you would’ve replied with yes. But now, it’s laden. Is he asking you that seriously? It’s one thing to tell Taehyung you can’t stand him, or to yell it in his face when he’s being a brat, but you can’t literally say it to him like this. Why, you don’t really know. The expectant look makes your stomach tighten.

“Why are you saying it like that?”

He shrugs. “No reason in particular. Just because,” he gestures at your bodies, “it doesn’t seem like you mind being around me that much. If anything I’d say that,” he stops, leaning in close to your ear. You can feel the barely-there graze of his lips. “You like being around me.”

You bite your tongue, looking up to find his eyes darker than before. Cocking his head to the side, he awaits your answer. You’re not willing to give him the satisfaction. There’s no need to stroke his already big ego any more. Yes, this is more pleasant than you’d expected. Yes, he’s nice to be around. But... “You’re still a pain in the ass. Sorry.” With that, you had expected him to look away, but he doesn’t. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and back up to your eyes.

“So are you,” he teases, lips stretching into a lopsided grin.

Within a heartbeat, your lips are touching. Jungkook groans. You gasp, pulling him closer. Closed eyes, your heart beats a million miles an hour, revelling in the feeling of his mouth against yours. How soft his lips are. The trailing of his fingertips up your neck so he can crane your head back.

He comes to life, parting with a brief look into your eyes and a deep breath. Then, diving in full force. Jungkook kisses you like he’s been waiting to—like he’s hungry for it. You can barely believe that it’s happening, still trying to register that he’s actually kissing you. That it feels this good.

Your entire body kicks into gear when he bites at your bottom lip. Shifting your body to face his, you wrap a hand around the back of his neck. Returning his fervor, your mouths part and tongues meet in a desperate clash. Jungkook lets out a deep, guttural sound that makes you shiver. He’s skilled, tongue swiping over yours in a way that you can barely keep up with. Deliciously hot, just edging on sloppy. There’s no room for pauses, no time for thoughts.

Gaining purchase against the armrest, you swing a leg over his to sit in his lap. Jungkook’s leaning back still, pawing at your waist now that he’s got full access. You take full advantage of the position, crashing into him and devouring him. Biting at his lips, sucking his tongue into your mouth. The feeling is nearly euphoric paired with the rough, firm touches of his hands all over your body.

He touches anything he can find. Gripping onto your thighs and ass, slipping under your tank top and sweater to graze the skin on your back. Sparks erupt everywhere.

Mid-kiss, he sits up. Twisting so he can firmly plant both his feet on the found. It’s the angle he needs to pull you right against him. Your hips make contact and you moan. He’s not quite hard but he’s certainly getting there and the thought makes your head spin.

“Fuck,” you gasp, breaking away for air while he grids his hips up into yours. “Jungkook—”

“No talking,” he mouths against your jawline. “More kissing,” his voice is so raspy that it’s barely recognisable. Almost a growl.

You push his cap off. Grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him firmly. Angling his head back the same way he had done to you. Kissing him is way better than you could’ve ever imagined. He’s rougher, stronger, harder against your body. You need more.

Slipping your hands under his shoulder, you lift it. Tracing the hard lines of his chest, feeling how he jumps under your touch. It empowers you, makes you bolder. Your fingers reach a pert nipple, brushing over it only to hear him moan in the back of his throat. God, he keeps on getting better and better. Sensitive it seems, as you roll the bud between your fingers. His hips buck up into yours. Fully hard at this point, he must start to get uncomfortable in those jeans.

Jungkook’s resolve with kissing you slows, needing air. He breaks away with a smirk, cheeks flushed and panting. Holding your gaze steady, he pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. Revealing planes of unmarred skin and tattoos you had yet to discover.

You take no shame in staring, reaching out to trace the dream catcher on his shoulder. Moving along the lines of thread and feathers that reach his elbow.

“Like what you see?” he whispers, pushing you closer with a hand on your lower back just so he can kiss your neck. You shiver, legs spreading. Leaning your head back to give him enough room to mark you up. The thought alone makes you whimper. “What’s that?” he mumbles, licking a hot stripe up your throat.

Fingers digging into his shoulders, you grind down onto him. He moans in response. “Stop being so smug.”

Jungkook throws his head back, looking at you through his lashes as you gyrate your hips more firmly. His body on full display. “I don’t know, it seems like you’re into it.”

“For fucks sake, shut up and kiss me.”

He listens, capturing your mouth with his. Everything moves fast after that. Between tongues and mouths clashing, Jungkook rids you of your sweater. He kisses down your neck and throat, leaving marks and enjoying the way that you quiver for him. You’re soaking through your leggings at this point. Jungkook’s doing no better.

When he pulls away, you take the opportunity to kiss down his neck, collarbones and chest. To get off his lap and kneel between his legs. His eyes widen as you do so. A hand immediately comes up to push your hair aside, tipping your chin upwards. When he traces his thumb over your mouth, you part your lips and swirl your tongue around the digit and bite down, making him hiss.

Spreading his legs to accomodate you, he relaxes against the cushions. Just like little pricks on the edge of your consciousness, you feel the nerves. You question your skills when you undo his jeans and pull them down his legs. Yet, the hazy look in his eyes tells you that he’s going to like this no matter what. He all but arches into you when you palm him through his underwear. Rock hard and leaking through the fabric, you don’t want to wait any longer to finally get your mouth on him. To hear him moan for you.

So you reach past his waistband, foregoing any teasing and pull the fabric down. His cock slaps up against his stomach, making him hiss again. The sight is gorgeous. Jungkook with his head thrown back, hair a mess, chest heaving and flushed even though you’ve barely touched him. It’s satisfying to know you did that to him.

You sit down on your knees, holding him in one hand and go slow. Mouthing at him first, giving him just a taste of what’s to come. He doesn’t hold back for you, reddened lips parting with all the noises he lets out. When you take the tip into your mouth, he jolts—groans and reaches to anchor himself on your shoulder. You have one hand on his thigh, the other around the base. That way, you steady yourself when you sink down on him.

“Don’t—Fuck, keep going.” A gentle hand winds into your hair, guiding you further onto his cock. You’re not usually one to do this but, seeing him feel this good spurs you on. It makes you want to take all of him. You don’t stop when he hits the back of your throat, gag reflex kicking in. He moans at the feeling, so you try to swallow. “Shit, fuck, don’t do that. Your mouth,” he pants, “so good.”

Feeling his grip loosen, you pull up, taking a deep breath when you let him out of your mouth. Spit dribbles from your mouth to the head, tears sting at the corners of your eyes. You look up, giving him the full vision, and you don’t look away when you sink down again.

You’re so wet. Core aching but unable to find any sort of relief. You end up trying to grind your hips without any payoff. Meanwhile, you start a steady rhythm. Hollowing out your cheeks and using your tongue on the underside. It works. You have him moaning out your name in seconds. His hand tightens in your hair again, not to force you, but spurring you on to take him a little deeper each time. Right until your nose hits his stomach. You hold there, to let him feel the flex of your throat one more time. Just so he remembers it. Then you take your rhythm back up, a little faster, a little tighter. Your jaw starts to hurt, but it’s worth it. To feel his thighs start to tremble and his stomach clench. How he tightens his hold on your hair, moans pitching every time you pass your tongue right under the head.

Your lungs are burning, but you can’t help but feel addicted to him. Sucking him harder and feeling him near that edge. You dig your nails into his thigh, breathing in through your nose. Jungkook’s hip start moving just a little, enough to startle you.

“‘M close,” he moans. “Fuck, can I—in your mouth. Shit.” He runs a hand through his hair, browns furrowed deep. When he opens his eyes you shiver. His lids are heavy, pupils blown and cheeks red. Just like his lips—he sinks his teeth into his bottom one when you resume.

He takes it as a yes, unable to stop his hips from pushing up. You let him take control, holding yourself still, hands on his thighs. Jungkook’s breathing picks up, moans mixing into one drawn out sound. You meet his eyes, mouth stuffed with his cock. That’s all he needed. He twitches and cums into your mouth. The taste is bitter and harsh on your tongue. You close your eyes, focused on the feeling of his body trembling. You’re the one who did that to him.

When he lets you go and you pull off him, he gives you a fuck-out yet expectant look. A cocky arch of his eyebrow when he sees your bulged cheeks. Waiting for you to swallow.

Instead, you reach for his mug that sits on the edge of the table and spit into it. Flinching at the leftover taste.

Jungkook nudges you with his knee. “Why are you like this?”

You set his cup down and reach for your own, take a big gulp of now-cold coffee. “I’m not swallowing your jizz.” The thought of doing that alone makes you want to puke.

“Don’t call it that.”

Rolling your eyes, you stand up on wobbly legs. “I just had it in my mouth, so I can call it whatever I want.”

Jungkook mimics your eyeroll. “Fine.” He pats your thigh. “Pants off.”

“What?”

He lies down on the couch. Surely he doesn’t expect you to ride him after you just fucked up your throat for him? What an ass. “You heard me, naked now. Chop chop.” He motions for you to hurry up and you just give him a blank stare. “Ugh, come here.” Jungkook sits up just slightly again and pulls you closer by your waistband. He gives you a brief look. “Unless you don’t wanna get naked?”

You chuckle, pushing at his hands to get him to slide your leggings off. A hand slips between your thighs to touch you. Rubbing you through the fabric, your knees nearly buckle. He’s nonchalant about it, lying back, eyes focused between your legs. Yet, he’s too accurate, easily finding his target.

“Jungkook,” you whine, grabbing onto the back of the couch.

He smirks. “Let’s take these off too.” The snap of your panties to your hip pulls you back. You shove them down, taken aback by the feeling of a hand grabbing your thigh. You’re about to question him, when he scoots further back on the couch and lifts your leg past his body. “Have a seat.”

Mind absolutely blank, you let him guide you to sit over his face. You’re dripping and he can see it—feel it probably from the way you just grazed his chest. A small moan leaving your lips when he reaches up to kiss your stomach.

“Don’t be shy,” he chuckles. “I’ve got you.”

You shift forward, holding onto the back of the couch. His hands come up to your thighs, pulling you even higher so he can slot his mouth onto your core. You can’t help but moan.

Noisy. Jungkook is so noisy. He sucks your lips into his mouth, teethes at them until you’re shaking. You struggle to hold your hips still, the need to grind into him too strong. And he does nothing to stop you. No, he urges you on. Looking up at you with those big eyes and nodding against you. Jungkook opens his mouth, tongue darting out to tease at your clit just briefly. Then, the reigns are all yours.

He holds you by the hips so you can hesitantly start moving. You shiver. It feels so good; the wet warmth of his mouth against your core. He follows you, hands pawing at your thighs, hips, and ass. With eyes closed, Jungkook eats you out like he’s been dying to do it. There’s no teasing, no playing—he’s straight to the point. You move over his tongue as he sucks on your cunt, nibbling and flicking whenever he gets the chance. Anything else is irrelevant. The sight of his head blissed out between your thighs is all you can focus on.

The pleasure spikes, shooting up your spine and filling you with warmth. It’s embarrassing how fast he gets you on the edge. How good he is. The way he occasionally stops you to take that bundle of nerves between his lips and suck on it until you’re screaming—it’s mind blowing. Your entire body is on fire, sweat drips down your back. His name falls from your lips in cries that echo throughout the room. Louder than the storm raging against the window.

“Jungkook, I’m—” you pant, unable to finish your sentence with the moans that he pulls from you. Incapable of thinking from the second he swirls his tongue around your entrance and presses inside. You halt all your movements. Nails dug deeply into the couch, you reach for his hair with your other hand. He moans when you grip it tightly, his own fingers tightening around your hips. “Don’t stop.”

He alternates between fucking his tongue into you and sucking on your clit. The intensity is almost too much. The irregularity keeps you on your toes and has you nearly teetering over the edge. You just need to—Jungkook reaches behind you and plunges two fingers into your sopping core. The sensation of being filled along with his tongue flicking over you has your eyes rolling back. Everything goes white.

You double over on the couch, unable to keep yourself up and smothering him in the process. Trembling in his hold, he helps you slowly ride out your high. Short, gentle movements against his mouth. The rocking of your hips is as involuntary as the way your body keeps shaking when he lets you go. Breath high in your throat, you chuckle.

“Good god.” You fall down when he slips out from underneath you.

As you twist towards him, Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, crawling over you. All your limbs still feel like jelly, your mind swimming. “Yeah, that good?”

You hum, eyes closing. Wanting to lie down, you turn on your back, hearing a sharp thud.

“Shit,” Jungkook gasps. He’s grasping his chin with a laugh.

A few seconds pass before you feel the soreness in your knee. “Ugh, I’m so sorry,” you whine, reaching up to touch him. But he has other plans. Jungkook surges down smiling, pressing your mouths together for the first time in what feels like hours. The stickiness on his face doesn’t go unnoticed. The reminder that he just ate you out, that he’s the one who made you cum that hard. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue.

He kisses you deeply, smiling against your mouth. You finally get rid of your tank top, now fully naked. He mouths over your chest, twisting your nipples, spreading your legs so that he can fit between them. Pressing himself against you, hard and waiting. “Can you go again?” he asks, pulling away and searching your eyes.

You still feel floaty, but the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your thigh has you quivering. “Yeah.” You’re aching to feel him inside, so you tilt your hips up towards him. Spreading your legs wider and inviting him.

“Wait,” you blurt, eyes flying open and pressing a hand against his chest. He stops with his hand around his dick, just about ready to slide home. “Condom.”

Jungkook curses, looking around the room. He locates his jeans that lie in a pile with his shirt and boxers. The fact that he’s actually got a condom in there is uncanny.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” You joke.

He shrugs. “I wore these jeans while going out last night.”

“You’re disgusting!” You slap his arm lightly, but he just chuckles in return. He knows just as well as you do that you’re waiting for him to fuck you. The clenching of your core attests to that.

No time is wasted, Jungkook puts the condom on and lines himself up. “You good?”

You nod. “Just go slow.”

The slight oversensitivity just makes it feel even better. He stretches you out so perfectly. You feel every inch, every stutter of his hips as he goes deeper. Way deeper than you’d expected. Until his hips meet yours and he curses, burying his face into your neck.

“You feel good,” he mumbles, kissing your skin.

“You too.” Trailing your fingers up his back, you wait for your body to adjust to him. To feel yourself relax and pull for more. That tell-tale need for movement, friction. Jungkook holds steady, hips barely moving. “Go,” you say when your stomach clenches. ��Move. Fuck me like you mean it.”

Jungkook growls, grasping onto the couch. Pulling out and slamming back in full force. You slide up the cushions, so fast you grasp onto him for support. Fingernails digging into his back, legs wrapping around his waist, you keen at the pleasure. Each thrust is better than the last. Harder, more precise.

Your back arches off the couch, mouth agape. Pleasure is constant, like your body is vibrating with it. Jungkook mouths at your neck, sucking, biting—teeth playfully tugging at your ear just to whisper something dirty that you can barely comprehend. Your mind can’t make sense of anything but his dick pumping inside of you. His hips slapping against yours and his mouth against your skin.

Until he kisses you. His mouth messily connecting with yours, movements slowing. With a hand on your ass, he hikes you up the couch, angling your body so that he can press your legs to your chest. Just like that, he picks up. Starting off slow, still kissing you, tongue laving over yours almost sweetly. You shiver, the slow drag of his cock as delicious as the harsh assault. He changes angles, just a hair, but it’s enough for him to graze that part inside of you that makes you see stars.

Throwing your head back, you moan. Fingers sliding through the sweat on his back, up to tangle into his hair, gripping tight. He groans. Head falling onto your shoulder, hips stuttering against yours.

“You like that?” you whisper into his ear, tongue darting out to flick at a pierced lobe.

He nods, teeth sinking into your shoulder as you pull hard. Hips picking up, chasing the pleasure.

Hearing him moan like that. So unabashed and loud, only adds to your pleasure. Toes curling, you close your eyes and let your head fall back. Hips meeting him thrust for thrust, helping him reach even deeper inside of you. To hit that spot every single time. Jungkook has perfected that balance between smooth and hard. Never slamming rough enough to jolt you, yet firm enough to make you capable of sounds you were unaware of. Rhythmic, never stopping or slowing. So constant you can’t do anything but fall into motion with him.

Bodies syncing up. Hands finding places to touch. Nipples, lips, thighs, waists, hair. He is holding you spread open for him, your thighs starting to ache. But it’s worth it, because soon, you feel the pleasure spike.

Your stomach tightens, tingling at the base of your spine. “Jungkook,” you moan.

He answers by looking up, lips bitten red and parted.

“Can you,” you can’t finish the sentence, moaning and closing your eyes. Tapping his hand on your thigh is enough though. He releases you, instead pulling your legs around his waist. Closer like this, his chest slides over yours. It gives you just enough space to reach between your bodies and touch yourself.

He looks down at the sensation, cursing at the sight of your fingers playing with your clit while his cock slides in and out of you. The angle doesn’t let you do the same, but you can hear the slick slide clearly. You can feel it dripping down your ass.

The added pleasure is enough to put you on the edge, fast. “I’m gonna—Jungkook!” you yelp when he leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. “Fuck.” One hand between your bodies, the other holding his hair.

In seconds, your high hits you. Hard. Your entire body locks up, so much that Jungkook lets out a strangled moan. Fluttering around him he joins you in your peak. Thrusts stilling, pressed deep inside of you. He spills into the condom as you rut your hips, still coming down.

Spent bodies collapse onto the couch, Jungkook refusing to pull out immediately. He’s basking in the feeling of your aftershock, walls still clenching ever so slightly. You can’t blame him. It feels good. Having him inside of you as he lies down, pulling your hips against his, kissing you. His mouth is tender, laving over yours without much hurry. A hand combing through your hair, softly humming, smiling.

He finally pulls out, leaving you feeling empty and slightly sore. Grunting, he ties the condom and makes a show of throwing it into the same mug you used earlier. It makes him grin.

“I’m throwing that mug out.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“Oh, I really do. It’s been tainted beyond remedy. I’m not drinking from that, ever again.”

Jungkook presses his nose against your temple, still grinning like a fool. “You’re so weird.”

You snort. “Says the guy who just three-point shot a condom into a mug full of cum.”

No reply follows, only comfortable silence. Jungkook and you just lie like that for a while. Bodies coming down, breaths evening out, enjoying each other. Slightly sticky with sweat, you let him grab the blanket and throw it over you. Your heart swells.

Could it be possible that you’re not the only one who feels something more? Deep down, you’ve always known he’s not just an asshole. You’ve just never seen that side of him before today. All this time you’ve tried to ignore it. To not let yourself fall for that trap. A guy like him isn’t supposed to be good. Yet, maybe you were wrong about him. And maybe, he feels the same way about you.

Taehyung isn’t gonna let you hear the end of this, but you can’t help but wonder if there is an opportunity for more between you and Jungkook?

“You know,” he says after a while, “We should definitely do this again.”

Your heart shatters. That’s it. Reality crashing down on you. Of course Jungkook doesn’t feel anything for you. He’s just out for sex and you should’ve known.

You scramble up from the couch. Jungkook sputters out something you can’t quite catch, trying to grab a hold of you. “Don’t touch me,” you spit. “I can’t believe you.” Grabbing your panties and pulling them on alongside your sweater, you put distance between the two of you. “Is that what I am to you? Just another cunt to fuck?”

Jungkook’s hastily putting on his boxers, standing up, eyes wide. He opens his mouth, but you don’t care to listen.

“That’s why you were really here, right? To get into my pants. That’s why you had the condom on you.” It’s all falling together now. How could you have been so stupid? “All the fucking whining about Yoongi, but you’re no better than him.”

“Stop,” he rushes, shaking his head. “Listen to me—“

“Don’t!” you call when he reaches for you, grabbing you by the wrists and forcing you to look at him. You try to wriggle away, but he’s holding you steady.

“Listen,” he tries again. “I—“

You shove at his chest. “Let me go, Jungkook. Fucking let me go.”

He obeys, arms falling limply beside his body. Expression going soft when he sees you’re crying. “Please hear me out.”

“No, Jungkook. You don’t get it. I have feelings for you. Real, non-sexual feelings. I don’t just want to be another girl on your checklist.” There it is. Out with the truth. Your breaths come out short and ragged. Harshly wiping your tears, you grab your leggings off the floor. Jungkook just stares at you. “I was stupid to fall for this act.” It’s true. He doesn’t date. Sex. That’s it. You should’ve known, you should’ve protected yourself. Should’ve never let him weasel his way into your heart.

Jungkook deflates, head falling, hair shielding his eyes. “I’m sorry that you think of me this way.”

What a pretentious prick. “Forget it Jungkook, I’m not buying it.” You look outside, rain still pouring down the window. “You know where everything is. I want you out before sunrise.” You turn your back on him and storm into your bedroom, slamming the door closed.

The contents of your cabinet click, something falling to the floor. Your tears only get worse. Feeling the cold of your room wrap around your worn out body. To feel the remnants of him still cling to your skin. The marks, the soreness, and the scent. God, you’re so dumb. You want to call Taehyung, to hear his voice and have him comfort you. But it’s two in the morning and his sleep schedule is shaky enough as it is.

So you just opt for a shower, stripping and getting under the hot spray to wash away whatever you can. You douse yourself in your favourite clementine scented body wash. But it does nothing to clean the fresh tears. Nothing can. The realisation that your feelings for Jungkook had gone way past crush hurts. You let your guard down and he drove a knife into your back.

Sleep, you think. You need sleep. You need to rid yourself of these thoughts and feelings. Wake up tomorrow and just pretend like this never happened. Even if you know it’ll be evident. You can pretend.

You dry off and brush your teeth. Three times to be precise. Ending up in bed wrapped in your favourite teddy sweater, warm and cosy. Your chest still aches with tears that no longer fall. Heart heavy. Like you miss him close to you.

There’s not much you can do but close your eyes and will your mind to shut off. You don’t want to think about him anymore.

The creaking of your door opening startles you right as you’re drifting off. He better be joking. You refuse to move, holding tightly onto the blanket, hoping that he’s just checking in on you and will leave. You hear the door click closed, and then the bed dips.

You hold your breath. Jungkook doesn’t speak. He lifts the covers so he can scoot under them and pull you against his chest. It’s not a tight hold, but it’s there. A strong arm draped over your waist, legs grazing yours as you pretend to be asleep. The feather-light gaze of his lips against your neck makes fresh tears appear in your eyes.

“Jungkook,” you croak.

He shushes you. “I know you’re upset with me. I just don’t want you to be alone when you’re feeling like this. We can talk in the morning—if you want. For now, just get some rest.”

It’s true. You shouldn’t be alone, crying yourself to sleep. Even if he’s the one that caused it. You just don’t want to let yourself trust the gesture. He’s probably trying to make you feel less angry. Even if it doesn’t work, it’s appreciated, ill intent or not. Having someone here is calming, letting you fall into an unruly slumber.

The next morning, you wake up in his embrace. Closer, back pressed to his chest. His nose nuzzles into your hair. It’s so nice. Warm. Soothing. He’s a good cuddler.

Then, your entire body stiffens. The previous night coming back to you in flashes. Your bodies entwined on the couch, moans bouncing off the wall. You swallow tightly, lifting his arm.

“Hey,” Jungkook whispers. He must’ve already been awake, reaching for your hand and giving it a small squeeze. “Should I go?”

Yes. “No,” you mumble. You need answers. To make the story whole before you force him out of your life for good.

“Do you want to—”

“Why do you always act like such a dick around me?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath. “Because you won’t give me the time of day otherwise.”

You still, practically holding your breath so that you can hear every word.

“Every time I’m nice to you, you pretend like I don’t exist. When I push your buttons,” he sighs, “that’s when I get your attention.”

Attention? He wants your attention? Your mind’s running circles, afraid to turn around and see the look in his eyes and get swayed. Feel remorse for the pain you hear lined in his voice. That you can feel in the trembling of his hand encasing yours.

“Can you at least say something?” he asks.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

He sits up, the mattress shifting and your eyes closing tightly. “Sit up, please.” Grabbing your arm, Jungkook gets you to reluctantly sit up and face him. Though you won’t look at him, eyes on your knees that nearly touch his. You notice that he’s still in his boxers, but he’s at least wearing a shirt. He doesn’t force you to look at him when he starts speaking again. “I want to be honest with you.” He toys with the edge of your sheets. “But if you’re not going to listen to the whole story it’s not worth telling you.”

Your heart hammers. Tears threaten to fall. Taking a deep breath gives away your nerves. You want to tell him he can’t ask that of you. That he doesn’t deserve that. But if there’s even a slight chance of a misunderstanding—something your heart hopes for—you have to hear him out. Even if it’ll hurt. “Okay.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles. He’s nervous too. Breath shaky like his body, nearly curled in on himself. You never thought you’d see him this vulnerable. “Honestly, when I first met you, I was intrigued by you because I couldn’t have you. You just held up your nose every time I as much as looked your way. It made me want to know more about you. And the moment I did, it was over for me. I realised that you’re not just opinionated, crass, and entitled. You’re smart, a hard worker, and you’re such a good friend.”

You finally dare to look up. To see the desperate look in his eyes as he pauses. Shocked.

“I admire you,” he whispers.

“What?” you blurt. “You’re the one with the straight A’s, not me.”

He shakes his head in defeat, biting his lip and looking away. “The only reason I’m getting straight A’s is because I’ve taken these classes before. I’m not like you, I don’t work hard. I should be studying like you.”

You frown. “What do you mean, you’ve done them before? Do you already have a law degree?”

Jungkook avoids your eyes. “When I got out of high school at the age of seventeen, I got into a big university with a scholarship. The full ride. But I was stupid,” he croaks. “I wanted to fully enjoy the college ride. So I studied just enough to get by and dedicated the rest of my time to partying.” He says it like he’s disgusted with himself. Muscles in his neck tightening as he swallows impending tears. “I got arrested for underage drinking and lost the entire scholarship. Everything I had worked so hard for, down the drain.”

The words leave him pained, the regret for his past decisions clear in his eyes. Yet, he’s still here, studying this degree you know most students can’t afford. You have a scholarship too.

“So yeah,” he breathes. “I wish I had a little more discipline like you. I admire that you’re able to put school first. As much as I pretend to hate you just to get your attention, I like being around you. You’re a positive influence on people, including me.”

“So it’s my fault? For judging you?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen. “No, not at all. As I said, I was being an ass on purpose because I was curious about you. But when I got to know you,” he cocks his head to the side, “feelings happened. I just couldn't find a way to show you the better sides of myself. Which is partially why I showed up yesterday.”

“Huh,” you frown. So he did have ulterior motives? “How does that change anything? You still showed up here to sleep with me.” He’s talking in circles. You feel remorse for him, but you tell yourself to stay strong. His past doesn’t excuse his actions.

“I really wasn’t planning on sleeping with you. I wouldn’t do that to you. There just was no other way to get you to spend time alone with me. I wanted to show you a better side of me, hoping that you’d realise I’m not all bad and maybe would give me a chance.” A chance to what? “I like you,” he adds when you don’t respond, “a lot.”

What? He can’t be serious. After everything that happened.

“But I also care about you. I like being around you—bickering included. I genuinely wanted to help. I know how hard it is to start again, I didn’t want to see you go through that.”

You go silent. Trying to think over his words and not see the bad. To believe that he means it. He did help you after all. He studied with you for hours, never insinuating anything sexual. He was nice, comforting and believed in you. You never asked for any of that. And after all, you kissed him too. You could’ve stopped it. If he had just wanted sex, he wouldn’t be here.

But he is. “Jungkook, I’m so sorry,” you say, grabbing his hand.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. For making you feel used. I should’ve just been honest with you.” Jungkook laces your fingers together. “I know it was a dick move on my side to sleep with you. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“I played as much of a part in it as you did. So let’s just—how about we call it even. Bury the hatchet?” You cock your head to the side, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. It won’t be easy, you’ll need to do a lot of thinking, but your heart wants to forgive him. To see more of his gentler side.

He nods, lifting up your hand and pressing his lips against your knuckles. “Sounds good to me.”

The two of you get up after that, even if it’s a little awkward. It’s weird to not be bickering with him. You’re surprised that he actually cleaned the living room last night. There’s not a trace of him left aside from his clothes that are carefully folded on the table. Even that mug is gone.

“What do you want to eat?” you ask, reaching to the top shelve for another mug.

Jungkook comes closer. “Just coffee is okay for now.”

You turn, almost bumping into his chest, blushing heavily. Now that he knows you have feelings for him, he’s enjoying himself just a little too much. Smiling at you while you’re making coffee and some cereal for yourself. You eat in silence, browsing through your phone.

It’s when you get up to clean, that Jungkook speaks again.

“Hey,” he says, grabbing you back by the waist.

“Hi?” You turn around in his grip.

“You know,” he starts, hand coming up to brush your hair behind your ear. “As much as I regret what I said yesterday, I did mean it.”

“What?” You chuckle lightly. “You want to do that again?”

He nods, and you catch a faint redness dusting his cheeks. “I do, a lot of times, if you want.”

You laugh, twisting away from him to put the dishes in the sink. “If that is your way of you asking me to be your girlfriend, Jungkook, then I must say you’re not quite hitting the right angle. Seeing what happened yesterday.” He can’t seriously be thinking you just want him for sex after all that. You start cleaning, even if it’s just to avoid having to look at him and admit that you’re shy. Thinking about what happened last night—the good parts.

Sighing, he turns off the tap that you had just turned on.

“Hey!” You turn it back on, only to have him shut it off again. “What do you want?”

“I’m not saying that I want you to be my girlfriend. I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet.” He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, searching your eyes like he’d done the night before. Like he’s waiting for permission.

You couldn’t resist him even if you tried. So you kiss him, just briefly. “Then what are you ready for, big boy?”

He laughs. “For starters, I would love to take you out for dinner after the exam that’s in,” he looks up at the clock, “six hours.”

You groan, throwing your head back. “Don’t remind me.” It’s probably a wiser decision to take some time to think. See how you feel about this, but dinner won’t hurt. “I will still need some time to think about,” you gesture between you two, “whatever this is.”

“Oh,” his face falls. “Yeah, I get that. I just thought that—since you said you have feelings for me too.” Jungkook pouts. He fucking juts out his bottom lip and you haven’t seen anything more endearing in your entire life. Your heart does a weird little flip, and you know that you’re a goner. Even more so than you had been before last night.

Now you know that he is good. That he is worthy of a chance. So why not give it? Why would you sit around and let your mind think all sorts of negative things about him if you can give him the chance to prove to you that he’s a great guy. As he said, it’s just a date. Not a label. Yet.

When he turns away, you pull him back by his hand, slamming your lips to his. He grunts, both hands coming up to thread through your hair. The kiss isn’t deep. It isn’t anything like the way you kissed last night. It sweeps you off your feet, so tender and warm. When he pulls away, you’re out of breath and you can see the adoration in his eyes. You hope he can see it in yours.

Then, he pinches your butt.

You push at his chest. “Thanks for reminding me that you’re still an annoying brat.”

He chuckles, giving you a peck on the lips. “But you like me that way.”

“Sadly,” you grumble, winding your arms around his neck. “I do.”

Thanks to: @/fallinforkoo @knjkitten @yoongs-jeontae @wintaejk @guksweet @rynofpentacles @mikroparadise @jeonggukkiepabo @softlyjiminie Requested by: @/fallinforkoo + @hornyjailbonk + 3x Anonymous Taglist: @jiminskth @teresaisla @yeontanie21 @tessanator97 @ladyartemesia @dayjeons @djasheyash99 @the-rise-of-bangtan-boyz @bbangtanlove95 @zeharilisharaban @jungkooksgoodgirl @topanga27 @pjmochii @iwanttohitmyself @veryuniquenamegoeshere @bel-abysse @jiminsreads @jungkookspromise

© GguksGalaxy 2020 This is a work of fiction and is in no way meant to give an accurate representation of the idols included. Please do not steal, copy, redistribute or take uncredited inspiration from my work.

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