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1kook · 4 years ago

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viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG

NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks

Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all.

There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms.

Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization.

“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”

The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him?

You’re not so sure.

It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows.

Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed.

“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”

You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”

She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”

At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did.

You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?”

Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that.

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin.

Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you.

So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes.

And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”

You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise.

Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well.

To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows.

Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments.

On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary.

(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)

“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight.

Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise.

“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”

You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s.

There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face.

Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.

“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth.

He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self.

But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first.

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”

You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”

His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups.

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.”

Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features.

Oh, you loved this man.

Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane.

He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway.

It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.

But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself?

One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on.

It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.”

“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car.

As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant.

It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you.

“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass.

The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass.

Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit.

As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks.

A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe.

Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear.

Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”

You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs.

“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck.

That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush.

Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.

You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river.

If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river.

“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”

He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”

You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!”

Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is.

“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.”

He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.”

“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song.

He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off.

Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign.

“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device.

It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen.

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“

“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line.

“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?”

Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?”

You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.”

Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred?

He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend?

Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate.

Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell.

You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird!

Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at.

“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?”

A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words.

You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”

Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?”

Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.”

It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut.

He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead.

The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again.

“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account.

But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”

A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”

It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“

He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”

You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?”

Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”

You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now.

You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook.

Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“

He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.”

Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.”

Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms.

“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”

The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing.

There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes.

You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.”

Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”

You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”

“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”

The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”

Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat.

On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment.

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze.

Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river.

“I thought he was cool before.”

He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you.

In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth.

You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor.

Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?”

You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?”

He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”

“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own.

Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.”

You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“

“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.”

His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling.

It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen.

Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud.

He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief.

Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship.

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.)

Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man.

(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot.

You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”

The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim.

But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either.

“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.”

“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”)

Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes.

The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.”

He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement.

“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”

He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.”

Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes.

It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself.

Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone.

He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura.

Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“

“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.”

He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end.

“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”

Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.”

You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly.

Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is.

“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”

Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead.

“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them.

Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”

“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.”

At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.”

You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr.

Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet.

Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again.

He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”

Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—

Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue.

You whimper. “That hurt.”

“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”

Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey.

Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see.

Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck.

Of course.

You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss.

It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it.

And you’re all too ready to act on it.

Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy.

But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw.

“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare.

Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him.

The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds.

As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair.

Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips.

With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit.

Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders.

“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you.

He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull.

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around.

“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you.

He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up.

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view.

It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings.

“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you.

Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely.

His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise.

Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.

He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.

Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.

He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth.

The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness.

Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest.

Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor.

He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes.

Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air.

For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead.

He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”

You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions.

“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”

A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”

The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been.

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table.

Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”

You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt.

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”

It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again.

His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs.

Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”

And it’s true.

You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low.

You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.

Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”

Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you.

Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“

Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.

You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you.

He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix.

“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin.

It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction.

Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper.

“I kinda do—“

“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.

His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust.

“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”

You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly.

“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips.

“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface.

Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed.

“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy.

You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.

Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.

You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why.

It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home.

Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you.

You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad.

Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying.

“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses.

“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.

And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”

Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.

What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.

“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes.

(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)

Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside.

With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds.

“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly.

“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?”

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”

Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder.

Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you.

“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit.

“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you.

You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different.

“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”

The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap.

Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out.

“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”

Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath.

“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds.

The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”

You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.

“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.”

He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly.

“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”

You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you.

epilogue

Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic.

He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom.

Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet.

“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums.

“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“

“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?”

“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”

The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?”

There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you.

All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”

epi-epilogue

The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house.

You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise.

“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors.

“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.”

And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag.

“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jjk smut #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader smut #bts jungkook #bts fic #bts smut #mine

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gubler-me-up · 5 years ago

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Successful Experiments

Request: I’m not the anon that asked about the requests but could your do one with Spencer where it’s the first time he’s eating you out (but not the first time you’ve had sex) and he makes you cum once then he’s basically like I need more of this and makes you do it again and again. So just a bunch of overstim pretty please

A/N: Thanks for sending in this request, anon! This request ends smut week part three or should I say smutmas? I missed an opportunity to say that when I announced smut week part three but you live and you learn amirite? ALSO ALSO I didn’t post this in the middle of the night so I’m making progress with that issue LOL Anyway, this one’s shorter but packed with good overstimulation so I hope you really enjoy it! 🎉

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!reader

Category: Smut

Content warning: Oral sex (female receiving), over stimulation, swearing

Word count: 1.5k

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You liked to spend your Saturday mornings laying in bed until it was nearly noon. You weren’t the type to sleep in late which annoyed you but your body would still be too exhausted to start the day early. You usually laid there on your phone or with a good book to get your mind functioning for the day.

When Spencer wasn’t at work your mornings were a bit sweeter. He would get up around the same time as you but his coffee addiction wouldn’t let him linger in bed for long. He would make himself a cup of coffee and make you a cup of your favourite tea. He would gently leave it on the nightstand while you were reading a book or on your phone.

That’s how your morning started. You were happy he was home because he had been busy for the past few weekends. He had set your tea on the nightstand by your side as usual before going over to his side. He set his cup down on the nightstand on his side before lifting the blanket to go back under it. You set your book down to look over at him with a smile as you watched him get comfortable.

“Thank you, baby,” you said.

He looked at you with a kind smile before leaning in to give you a peck on your lips. He caressed your cheek before tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I’d do anything to make you happy,” he said.

You giggled. “Oh really?”

He smirked as his hand caressed down your neck and then down to your chest. He gently kissed you again as you felt his hand continue its journey down your body. His hand reached your hip and then gently caressed your thigh. He leaned up from the kiss and you saw the desire wash over his face. He leaned in to kiss your neck.

“Really,” he whispered.

His kisses on your neck lingered down your body. Every move he made sent tingles up your nerves and soft moans left your mouth. He pushed the sheets off of the both of you as he reached your thighs. He positioned himself so his face was in-between your legs.

You spread your legs further apart to give him enough room. You could feel his breath hot and heavy on the fabric of your underwear. He hooked his finger around your underwear to move it to the side. You heard him let out a soft chuckled.

“You’re so wet already,” he said before he ran his tongue between your folds.

“Only for you,” you moaned.

You swore you could feel him smile as he continued to run his tongue up and down your folds. You tilted your head back as you soaked in every inch of pleasure he was giving you. He had never gone down on you before but he definitely knew what he was doing.

You hadn’t been a huge fan of receiving oral sex in the first place so every time he offered you would tell him it was okay. You didn’t know you were missing out on so much. You felt him run his tongue over your clit before he sucked on it. You rolled your eyes to the back of your head as he took his time catering to it.

You grabbed onto his hair to keep him as close to you as possible. Every stroke of his tongue sent you to new sensual heights you didn’t know you had. Especially when he took the extra time to play around with your clit with his tongue. The feeling was beyond words for you.

“Fuck,” you moaned as he sucked on your clit.

He moved from your clit and inserted his tongue into your hole. He stuck it in and out of you to tease you to filth. He then slid his tongue back up to your clit and rapidly flicked it with his tongue.

You tightened your grip on his hair. You could barely moan properly. Every breath that left your mouth was jagged and uneven. You felt something butterfly up your core. Then it hit you immediately. You tilted your head back and let out a loud moan as your legs shook from the orgasm rushing through you.

Spencer quickly stopped eating you out. You looked down at him with wide, wild eyes as he looked at you with wide, impressed eyes. A smile grew on his face as you were still trying to gain your composure.

“You orgasmed,” he said.

“Yeah,” you breathlessly said.

“And you didn’t want me to eat you out before because?” He joked.

You chuckled. “I…Because I didn’t know if I’d like it.”

“Well now you know,” he said.

He licked your in-between your folds again. You moaned as the last of your orgasm had faded from your body and you could feel a new one emerging soon. You tried to push his head back but he had wrapped his hands around your thighs to keep him in place. He looked up at you to see what was wrong.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked.

“Yes-I mean-no. I just-”

He flicked your clit with his tongue. “You just what?”

“I just…”

You trailed off as he continued to flick your clit. You loosened the grip you had on his hair and let his tongue have his way with you. You wanted to protest against him eating you out again so soon but his tongue had a way of convincing you even if he wasn’t talking.

He sucked on your clit again but harder this time. Your soft moans turned into animalistic groans. You felt your legs shaking from the stimulation but he kept them still. He stopped and went back to licking you in-between your folds. His eyes stared up at you as you look down at him with a look of dazed satisfaction.

“I need you to orgasm again,” he said.

“I don’t know if I-”

He went back to flicking your clit and you could feel the butterflies in your stomach form again. Your legs started to shake uncontrollably to the point where he didn’t even stop them from shaking.

“S-Spence…I don’t-I.”

He put his mouth over your clit to enclose it. He sucked on it and flicked it at a rapid pace again. Your headshot back and you let out a shriek as another orgasm took over your body. You could no longer keep your legs up and let them slide flat as the rest of your body went limp.

Spencer crawled up to you and gave you an overpowering kiss. You could taste your juices on his breath. His lips were extremely wet from you. He eased up and licked his lips as he watched you catch your breath. He smiled down at you before giving you a quick peck on the lips.

“One more time. I want you to scream my name this time,” he said.

You nodded. “Okay.”

“I know you’re overstimulated but I can’t get enough of pleasuring you,” he said.

You smiled. “Don’t stop then.”

He let out a soft chuckle before crawling back down your body to bury his face in you again. You laid limp until you felt him stick his tongue inside your hole again. You arched your legs up again. They were already shaking since they hadn’t gotten much of a break.

He licked you up and down over and over and over again until you had no choice but to arch your back. The overstimulation was getting to you quick and you loved it. You moaned uncontrollably and louder than the first two times. He had perfected his pattern and knew how to get you to scream his name as loud as you possibly could. He started to rapidly flick your clit again with his tongue and you immediately threw your head back.

“Spencer!” You screamed.

He continued to flick your clit with your tongue as you kept screaming out his name. The overstimulation you felt had brought tears to the rim of your eyes. Your legs shook immensely and you knew you were going to orgasm for the third time.

“Fuck, Spencer,” you screamed as your orgasm dawned on you.

You arched your back and let it ride out through your body. You let the tears drip down from your eyes as you desperately tried to catch your breath. Spencer crawled up your body until he reached your face. He wiped the tears from your cheek before giving you a quick kiss on your lips.

“You having an orgasm has to be the hottest thing ever,” he said.

You gave him a weak smile. “That was fucking fantastic.”

He chuckled at your breathless enthusiasm. He leaned in and gave you a long kiss to take the little breath you had right out of you. You dropped your body on the bad. You were all limp and tired out. Spencer took the cover and placed it over you.

“Time for a little nap?” He asked.

You chuckled. “Just a little one. When I wake up though I’m going to suck your dick so fucking good.”

He laughed. “I’m looking forward to it.”

—–

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @shadyladyperfection, @slutforthegubes, @pinkdiamond1016, @spencerreidsthings, @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto, @slutforsr @bxtchboy69, @fallinallinmendes @haihappen5 @mgg-theprettiestboy @siltuz-png @ptrs-prkrs @tclaerh @agentadhd @alexmarie29 @closetedreidstan @mac99martin @blxckhearthood @jesspavlik0vsky @katexrichardson @keniaasf @reidbuck @corishirogane3 @thegoddamncrazycatlady @keniaasf @pastelbabygirl19 @shadybagelsludgecolor @bootycrackraisinjuice @vintagebeauty1496 @laneybobeczko-g @littlewierdalien @cynbx

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purple-goo-writes · 4 years ago

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Where on Earth is MDC?

Chapter 1

Richard “Dick” Grayson with all his 10 year old intelligence and circus know how was pretty sure of one thing and one thing only- there was no way his guardian, Bruce Wayne, was married. He may have grown up in a circus as an acrobat and wasn’t schooled the way kids were normally, after all most kids don’t have a circus clown teaching them math or a Lion Tamer teaching science- But he was not an idiot! Plus he was Robin! He helped Bats solve some pretty tough cases. He wasn’t letting Bruce try and pull the wool over his eyes! There was no way that Bruce Wayne was married-except maybe married to his work as a vigilante.

For one, Dick has never seen or heard evidence that Bruce was married or seeing someone in the whole two years he has been living in Wayne Manor as Bruce’s ward. Sure, Bruce claimed that his lovely wife was a globe trotter like her grandmother and rarely came home to roost due to how busy her schedule was... Dick called elephant-dung on that. There is no way some socialite would be out exploring the world when they could be hanging off Bruce’s arm gossiping at all the galas and parties Bruce had to hold for his business. Though he is only guessing that this is how high society women act due to only seeing this behavior from Bruce’s investor’s wives, dates and daughters.

He does find it odd that no one comments on Bruce never bringing a date to his own galas or other social functions. And that everyone when meeting Bruce glance at the odd silver ring Bruce always wears in place of a wedding band before giving those weird sympathy looks and subtle glances amongst themselves. Adults seemed to have their own language when it comes to greeting each other that Dick hasn’t been able to decipher yet. Though the Not-Wedding Ring doesn’t always detour the newer social climbing women from flirting with his guardian or trying to seduce him. Dick has been used many times as a human shield against said women and has come to accept/resent his fate.

Two, the young Robin has never seen so much as a tiny photo of the so called Mrs. Wayne! There are no portraits or photos in the manor that he has seen. While Alfred assures him that Bruce carries on with him every where, Dick hasn’t ever seen it not even after slipping away with Bruce’s wallet, just like Jackie taught him to do with the really rude patrons that came to the circus when he was younger. He made sure to return the wallet! He just wanted to see if maybe Bruce had a tiny photo in there like he had seen other men do, like how The Strong Man carried pictures of his husband and children around in his wallet. But, there was no picture in the wallet except for the one of him, Alfred and Bruce together in a family photo. When he saw the photo, Dick had teared up cause this meant Bruce did see him as family and not as an charity case like everyone at the Academy liked to say he was. Alfred claimed that the Misses was simply too busy to pose for a portrait to be painted and always preferred to be the one taking the photos anyway. While Alfred has never lied to him, Dick is still not convinced.

And three, Dick couldn’t find any mention of a Mrs. Marinette Wayne anywhere! Not even with the Batcomputer! All he could ever find was the latest travel logs of some woman named Marinette Dupain-Cheng, also known as the fashion designer MDC. Sure there were odd newspaper clippings now and then speculating when Mrs. Wayne would be returning from abroad. But those were not concrete evidence of her so-called existence! Honestly, it was starting to drive Dick up the wall with not being able to find anything about or on his guardian’s absent wife!

The ten year old was this close to throwing a tantrum like no other in demand to get answers. How was everyone convinced that Bruce was married? If he was, then where in the world was Mrs. Wayne?! Cause, Dick would really like to meet her. If only to shut up the voice in his head that was worried that if She was real that she would have Bruce send him away. After all a Circus Freak didn’t belong in High Society. Though Dick was starting to worry if Bruce was really a widower and his way of coping with the grief was to pretend that his wife was still alive and just on an extended road trip...

Though if that was the case then why would Alfred go along with it? Maybe Dick needed to go take a look in the Wayne Family Cemetery just to make sure...

Dick was broken from his musings by Alfred coming into the Manor’s library and clearing his throat, “Master Richard, Master Bruce wishes to see you in the Family Parlor Room. There is someone here he wishes for you to meet.”

That puzzled the child sidekick, but he simply shrugged and nodded, “Alright, Alfie!” Before hopping up from his chair and leaving the book he had been reading in the seat as Dick darted out of the room excited to meet someone new. Maybe it was one of Bruce’s lawyer friends again! Like Dent, who was nice and for some reason liked to comment on how much Dick looks just like Bruce in that odd teasing tone all of Bruce’s actual friends use when they learn he took Richard in. Honestly, Dick isn’t sure what is so funny about the fact that he looks like Bruce. Genetics are weird and he still refuses to try and understand them.

When Dick skidded into the Family Parlor Room, he was not expecting what happened next. Not at all. Because before Dick could even ask Bruce who was there, the ten year old was being swept up in a flurry of chiffon and lace as a lovely French accented voice started cooing over the tiny child in her arms. Dick would forever deny the startled squeak he let out and the fact that he blushed as red as his uniform top when he managed to get a good look at his captor. The person holding him could only be described as a heavenly beauty with long silky black-nearly blue hair and bright expressive blue eyes that exuded motherly love whilst she held him close in a gentle hug. Her smile made Dick think of the sun shining out from the clouds after weeks of rain and it radiated love, love that he could tell was aimed at him even though they had just meet. It reminded him so much of his own mother’s smile that Dick had started to tear up.

“Hello, ma petite colombe, it’s so lovely to finally meet you,” the heavenly being cooed at him, gently cradling the child closer with a gentle smile, “Bruce has told me so much about you. I’m so glad I can finally welcome you to the family.”

Marinette simply held her son, yes her son because even if he was not adopted yet Marinette already loved him like her own, close as the little boy broke down and started crying as he clung to Marinette returning the hug. She could tell he was relieved that she accepted him, honestly she warned her silly husband that Dick may be worried about her not liking him. Really, her silly love was just as silly as her Papa at times. She shook her head and tugged Bruce into the hug as well, so that he could reassure their little dove that they loved him and he was welcome in their family and home. Mari loved Bruce, but he was sometimes slow on how to approach emotional situations.

#mominette #brucinette #serial adopter bruce wayne #globe trotter marinette

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teasty · 4 years ago

Text

kiss yourself (01) | h.js (m)

● pairing: han jisung x (female) reader

● genre: angst, smut, fluff || fwb to lovers au

● words: 6.9k ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

→ summary:

It all started when you and your best friend for life, Han Jisung, got a little bit too tipsy at a party and ended up waking up naked in the same bed. After that unfortunate night, you and Jisung confirmed there be a distinguished “friends with benefits” relationship between the two of you, with a few rules.

Number One: No one else is supposed to know about this relationship.

Number Two: The minute one of the two of you starts a serious relationship with someone, the benefits are cut off immediately.

Number Three: Have to respect the other’s wishes, if one doesn’t want to do it, then there’s no argument.

Number Four: No falling in love.

But, when Jisung starts crushing over your classmate, you start to break the rules. One by one.

a/n: first story here :D my dirty mind couldn’t resist smut so here we go

CHAPTER ONE | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

“Oh, fuck, baby… you feel so fucking good.”

It was a stupid way to start of a weird relationship with one of your best friends, Han Jisung. A stupid way to let yourself succumb to his stupid antics and a stupid way to let him be more than a friend, but less than a lover.

It was a few months ago, and your second year of university was just starting up. Jisung had convinced you to go to some party the week before school would start. But, you were reluctant at first. Unlike Jisung, you were never too much of a party animal. Never too much of a social person to begin with. Jisung was another story entirely. He would always be out late and wouldn’t go back to his house or his dorm room until late, according to his roommate, Jeongin (who thankfully kept tabs on Jisung for you whenever you were suspicious that Jisung wasn’t telling the truth to you and would go out to some party, when he would tell you that he’s just going to meet up with other friends. You didn’t want to overbear him, but you worried for his health at times).

It was your first party, too. You had never bothered going to one in high school, not wanting to be crowded by drunk teenagers, being thrown up on or spilled on, or watching two people fuck in the corner of the room. It was never your go - to, but Jisung had convinced you to go after he promised that he’d never leave your side, even if he was being dragged away by “some hot chick trying to hop on his dick”. Even if you had wanted to say no, you couldn’t get a “no” past his pleading eyes. So, you had hesitantly agreed to go, and he was beyond excited to take you to your first party.

He even helped you pick out an outfit, and had taken hours finding the right one for the occasion. You’d never been very fashionable, unlike Jisung, who usually decked out in expensive clothes and accessories (you preferred comfortable, classic clothes like hoodies and leggings instead of skin - tight jeans and overly designed shirts). Jisung had basically tore your closet apart trying to find the “right outfit”. It was tiring, but you will admit that you had fun with trying on new clothes and hearing the praise from Jisung. He had eventually chosen an outfit for you that you felt quite uncomfortable in, but nonetheless beautiful. You had worn a tight pair of black leather pants, a maroon red tank top (that was tucked into the leather pants) and a black jacket. You will admit that it was sexy, and Jisung seemed to like it.

A lot.

But, he claimed that guys there would be drooling over you and trying to sleep with you, but he’d be there to keep you safe. Even so, you wondered why he’d make you wear such an outfit to a party if he was only going to keep you away from a one night stand, one you wouldn’t even remember anyways. He did claim that he wanted you to ‘keep your innocence’, which was total bullshit since he knew you weren’t a virgin (you lost it to some jock in high school who had been eyeing you during a football game) and definitely not innocent, as you both liked to constantly make dirty jokes here and there.

The party was at some rich kid’s house, and their parents were out of town. Their house was gorgeous and big, but filled to the brim with loud university students, some you had even recognised as your classmates. Jisung had kept his hand interlocked with yours as he pulled you through the crowd at the entrance and to the living room, where there was a table full of food and drinks, and even a cliche bowl of spiked punch. You were glad not as many people crowded the table, but Jisung obviously had some friends there, since he hugged one of them before going back to you.

“Hey, Hyunjin. Felix. Have you guys met (Y/N)?” Was the first thing he had said to them, and you were somewhat flustered by the sudden attention. But you suspected that you should have expected that kind of attention, since Jisung seemed oh - so excited that he’s taking you to a party.

“I don’t think we have,” said one of the two. You were taken aback by how deep his voice was. It wasn’t forced either, his voice was so relaxed, you almost felt like you’d be pulled into a deep sleep if you were to listen to his voice for hours. He was handsome, too. His bleached hair was a little long, but not as long as the other man’s, with brown roots peaking through the top of his head. “The name’s Lee Felix. I didn’t know Jisung kept such pretty friends away from us.”

“Oh, don’t be a flirt,” says the other man with long hair, which was tied back in a ponytail. You had concluded that he was Hyunjin, if the other was Felix, “And, no. I think I’ve seen you around though. But not in… those types of clothes.”

“Yeah, and you call me a flirt?” Felix cocks a brow at Hyunjin, who only glares back.

“It’s not flirting if it’s just stating a fact. I’ve seen her around… but in oversized hoodies and leggings,” Hyunjin counters.

“Alright, alright, pipe down,” Jisung interferes, stopping what would have become a petty argument about who’s flirting and who’s not. “Well, since you both can’t make a decent introduction… (Y/N), this is Felix,” he points to the man with the deep voice, “and this is Hwang Hyunjin. I think you guys might be in the same chemistry class last year, am I right?”

“Oh, yeah…!” Hyunjin claps his hands together, “You’re the one who nearly blew up the whole class! Oh, I remember, now.” Hyunjin and Felix laugh together, and Jisung gives you a weird look.

“It’s a long story,” you sigh, chuckling along with their contagious laughter, “Let’s just say that I was too tired to function and got mixture A mixed up with mixture B and almost made a really severe chemical reaction. I don’t think it would have blown up the whole school, though.” You fold your arms, and Hyunjin shrugs his shoulder.

“Who knows,” Hyunjin says, and you squint at him. “I’m not a chemistry genius, but it could have been bad. That��s not the point. I’m glad to meet you, (Y/N). I hope we can be closer.”

“Ditto,” Felix smiles down at you, and you chuckle awkwardly, flustered, “You seem like an interesting person. How did you and Jisung meet?”

“We used to be neighbors, like, a decade ago,” Jisung answers for you, leaning against the table filled with drinks and food, “Since we were the same age, we stuck together. Even after I moved again, we still talked like every day over the phone until university hit. Thankfully we got into the same school, and we both are going to live on campus, so… It’s been a lot easier.”

“Surprised you two were able to stay close even through distance,” Felix comments, and you and Jisung share a brief look and smile, “Not a lot of people are able to hold a strong relationship when the only thing they have is a phone or computer. Take Hyun for example, he couldn’t stay friends with this one chick even if he tried.”

“Wasn’t my fault she sucked at holding conversations. She always expected me to make up all the interesting shit. Kinda glad she ghosted me, now,” Hyunjin laughs, almost defensively, as if embarrassed by such a situation.

“It was your fault for trying to cling to her,” Jisung intervenes.

“Oh shut up, shortstack,” Hyunjin grumbles, and Jisung’s brows raise in challenge.

“Say that again, pretty boy, I dare you,” Jisung threatens, and you glare over at him, but he didn’t seem to care for your glare. Hyunjin and Jisung did end up getting into a petty argument about it and you had to stop it by asking Jisung to show you around the place. But, not before trading numbers with Felix and Hyunjin, since they insisted that they wanted to get to know you better (Felix still grumbling irritably about how Jisung kept “such a pretty friend” away from them for so long). You wouldn’t deny new friends, even if they were Jisung’s party animal friends and flirtatious, it didn’t really matter to you. You could use some new friends, anyways.

You had met a few more of Jisung’s friends (who all seemed to be so handsome that your heart would race every time they’d smile down at you or talk to you), three seniors,Seo Changbin, Lee Minho and Christopher Bang, and another, younger man named Seungmin. Out of all of them, Seungmin and Christopher seemed the most genuine. Minho, Felix, Changbin and Hyunjin just seemed pretty flirtatious. You could admit that you were intimidated by them, and by the party in general, but with Jisung next to you the whole way, you had at least some sense of security.

Your first drink of the night wasn’t until a few hours into the party. You were a little bit more comfortable with the setting. Jisung had sat you down in one of the living rooms, as you learned there were many. Not as many people were in this room other than people talking or flirting. It felt nice to finally sit down on such a comfortable couch, since you had been standing on heels the whole night, and relax. Jisung had already had a few mixed drinks, and you could see his face getting redder and redder due to the alcohol.

He handed you a plastic red cup filled with something orange that stunk of different kinds of liquor. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing too strong,” Jisung reassured, and you huffed softly. A bit nervous to drink it, but you did, anyway. It wasn’t terrible, but you could taste the liquor clearly through the citrusy taste. Jisung watched you as your face grew from confused to scrunched up from the bitter taste. You had alcohol before, but every time you had it, it was like the first time all over again. But, when you got used to the taste, the cup was empty in a flash.

You didn’t know when it started kicking in, but after you had Jisung fetch more drinks and you tried to stand up, you immediately plopped back onto the couch as an instant wave of fatigue washed over you. Your head started to ache, and it was getting warmer than it should have been. Sure, it was nearly the end of summer, but it was like someone shut off the air conditioning. So, you took off your jacket while waiting for Jisung to come back. It felt like forever until he came back, and you instinctively began to miss him. He’d stayed by your side the whole night, and it was weird without him. It was lonely, too, even if there were other people in the same room. You were too nervous to talk to them, though.

When he did, and handed the drink to you, the minute he had sat down, you clung to him.

“Woah, you alright?” Jisung laughs it off as you take the red cup in one hand and the other latching around his strong bicep. You were never usually one for skinship, but now was a different story. Each time you looked at Jisung, you felt like he was going to magically disappear. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol that made you so anxious or just you being lonely, but you weren’t really going to let go anytime soon. At first, Jisung was tense, and it took him a minute to get used to you huddling so close to him.

Like the first, the cup you had was empty sooner rather than later, even though Jisung advised you to sip on it instead of gulping it down, like you had been. After that drink, you didn’t order him to get another drink, you were too focused on the feeling of his bicep to ask for another.

“You can’t be drunk after two mixed drinks,” Jisung said after a while.

“Not drunk… just a bit tipsy, is all,” you responded, more of a low grunting than a talking voice. You liked how you could hear Jisung’s voice loud and clear the closer you were to him.

“Sure. Your tolerance isn’t very high, you know,” Jisung chuckles, and your body moves along with the bounce of his for each laugh. You only grunted in response, having already known that. “And, by the way, you don’t have to cling onto me like that. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Shut up,” you snapped, but you didn’t really want him to. You just didn’t want him to talk about you letting him go, since you didn’t want to. To prove your point, you squeezed harder onto his arm, “I’m comfy. Lemme have this moment.” Jisung deeply sighs and complies. After that, there’s a comfortable silence.

You were staring at the way your legs pressed against his as his legs relaxed in a (hot) manspread. His head leaned back, slightly tilted towards yours, which was squished against his shoulder. His hand rested delicately against your thigh, not moving much but sometimes his hand would press against your thigh. It was nice, and you could faintly hear his heartbeat.

You and Jisung weren’t strangers to cuddling, as you both had a lot of sleepovers before (with a strict talking to from your parents about having sex, and why not to do it), but this was different. Almost intimate. You’re both adults now, so cuddling like you would years ago when you were both barely teenagers wouldn’t be so innocent. Especially with Jisung’s obvious sex drive, things wouldn’t go so well. You both had never done anything like that, either. You both have never even kissed before. Well, there were times when he’d kiss your cheek or hand and vise versa, but nothing more than a peck and nothing more than that.

You wouldn’t deny your attraction to Jisung. You couldn’t really see yourself in a serious relationship with him, but damn is he attractive. He really matured over the years, too. His beautiful brown hair is in need of a cut, but you liked it a bit long. He might not be the tallest man alive, but his face made up for it. Even if he had the cheeks of a chipmunk, his jawline was as sharp as a knife. You could stare at him for hours, just admiring how he was built. You wondered if he felt the same about you. If he could stare at you for hours just admiring your beauty. Of course, it would probably never even cross his mind, even if Jisung would say how pretty you looked with a specific hairdo or how you looked beautiful in a certain outfit.

You found yourself staring at him as your thoughts carried on. Your arm unhooked from around his, and you watched how his eyes were closed. He looked like he was sleeping, but you could tell he wasn’t by the way his hand gripped you just above your knee. You were staring at him, and then at his neck. The way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed.

Your mind grew hazy, void of thought as your lips parted slightly, your breath fanning his neck. His hand squeezed harder around your leg and you could faintly see his brows furrow. He doesn’t do anything nor say anything, but you watch as his bottom lip catches in between his teeth. You want more of a reaction. You don’t know why and you can’t form a reason why, but you do. You push yourself a little bit further until your lips connect just underneath his jaw. Your warm tongue pressing against his warm skin. You can feel how his hand trembles and the way his leg twitches underneath your own. Jisung emits a breathy groan, and you can feel it against your tongue.

“(Y/N)...” Jisung musters out, but you only press wet, slow kisses along the side of his neck, “What the fuck are you doing?” His voice is deeper, raspier and darker. Almost scary. If you weren’t so blank in the mind, you would think he’s mad. But all you can think about is urging him on further. You don’t want to answer him. You don’t have an answer to begin with.

“Just relax,” You whisper closely to his ear, nipping at the skin below his ear, and he sharply inhales. At this point, you don’t care who’s watching or why you’re doing this. The soft, breathy sounds Jisung emits makes you feel different, and the feeling of his warm skin against your tongue is addicting. “Don’t push me away.” You whisper again, one of your hands creeping up over his defined chest and along his neck.

“You have no fucking clue what you’re getting yourself into,” Jisung groans out, and you only chuckle against him. Briefly halting your wet kisses to his neck to smile lazily. “I’m being serious, (Y/N).” You know he’s serious just by the tone of his voice.

“Mmm…” was all you responded with as you pressed your body against the side of his. Your hand gripping his shirt as your leg creeps over his more and more. Edging yourself on top of him. “Sunggie…” you teased him by groaning his nickname into his neck. Sucking gently on his skin, giving it a blue and purple hue. You gave him multiple marks, and his hand caressed your arm gently as you breathily moan his name against his neck, “Sunggie… Jisung - ah.”

And that seemed to break him. His hand snaps up to grip your cheeks, aggressively pulling your head away from him to make you look him in the eyes. And it’s a look you’ve never seen in him before. It wasn’t anger or disgust in his half lidded eyes, but a pure sense of utter lust and desire. His hand grips your chin, his fingers pressing against your cheek as his eyes examine your face. His face is a pretty pink from the alcohol and you guessed from him blushing. Now, you’re on top of him. Straddling his lap, and you can feel his hard - on underneath you.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, (Y/N). I’m giving you one last chance before I take you back to my place and break you,” Jisung says, and you liked this side of him. Sure, you’ve seen him being aggressive, but not like this. No, this is different. You don’t have much courage to speak, so all you can do is let your tongue fall out of your mouth and guide his index finger in between your lips. His mouth parts slightly in shock as he watches your mouth engulf his finger.

“Fine, you wanna be like that,” Jisung brows furrow, and he stands up quickly, and you let out a yelp as his hand yanks itself from your mouth as both of his hands latch around your thighs. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and your arms around his neck, “We’re going home.”

It wasn’t easy, leaving without being spotted by one of Jisung’s friends. Felix had come over to see us when he saw Jisung’s arm wrapped around you as your head stuffed into his neck (teasingly kissing his neck). “Oi, Jisung. Everything good?”

“Yep,” Jisung gives Felix a convincing smile, and you smile against his neck, “I’m taking (Y/N) home. She got a bit too crazy tonight.”

“Really? She’s been pretty quiet,” Felix notes.

“Well, she has her different sides to her,” Jisung laughs, “Uh, yeah, well, I gotta get her home, Felix. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, alright? Let Hyunjin and everyone else know that I’m leaving.”

“Alright, I’ll catch you later, bud. Take care of her for me, alright?”

“Oh, I will,” Jisung smiles, and you squeezed tighter onto him.

After that, it was foggy. All you could remember was how Jisung treated you. Calling you dirty things all while praising you. Making sure you were alright while tearing you apart blissfully.

It was the next morning where everything was decided.

You were the first to wake up, having the sun shining brightly in your face. You had a blazing headache, and you could feel your head pulsing that morning. You couldn’t even open your eyes after you woke up because it hurt so bad. You hadn’t even considered where you were or why you were completely nude at first. But, when it hit you that there was only a thin, soft blanket covering you, you had the courage to open your eyes and see where you were.

It was a familiar room, that’s for sure. The bed was much bigger than your own, and you usually had more pillows and blankets than this, so it wasn’t your room. It didn’t really hit you where you were before you looked to your side. You nearly screamed when you saw Han Jisung, your best friend laying next to you. His back turned to you, and completely shirtless. You held the blanket around your chest. You stared at him for a moment, brief memories of last night running through your mind. You wanted to cry as embarrassment and shame powered through you, but a sense of want overpowering it. A part of you didn’t want this to be just a one - time thing.

“Jisung!” You whispered, nudging his shoulder. He didn’t budge, “Han Jisung! Han Jisung - ah, wake up!” Your voice raised as you shook him, “Jisung!”

“What, what? Is everything okay?” Jisung bolts up after you yell his name. Sitting up straight, he hisses when the sun makes contact with the sun. His hand rubs his eye, and you try not to note the scratch marks on his back, the hickeys littering his neck and chest or how he was just as naked as you, only being covered by the comfort of the thin blanket. “Fuck, (Y/N), don’t scare me like that.”

“Why are you acting so calm?” You didn’t raise your voice, as your head ached terribly because of it, “Look at me Jisung.”

And, so he did. He looks up. He didn’t seem as tired, as he saw the blue and purple hickeys lining your neck and what he could see of your breasts as well as red scratch marks on your shoulders. You both don’t say anything for a while. You’re both an uncomfortable distance away from each other, and you didn’t want to admit that you wanted to cry right there.

“I’m sorry,” Jisung is the first to say something after that tense silence, and your brows furrow, “I… I shouldn’t have… I’m so fucking sorry. I’ll… I’ll.”

“Why are you sorry?” You asked softly, and Jisung seemed hasty. His hands were trembling as he gripped the blanket, and he didn’t make eye contact with you.

“I shouldn’t have done anything to you. Everything’s ruined now,” Jisung’s head dips, “I shouldn’t have let the stupid alcohol guide me. Fuck, (Y/N), I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Hey, nothing’s going to change between us,” You crawl towards him, still keeping the blanket firm around you as your free hand cups his cheek and lifts it up towards you. “It was both of our faults…” Jisung stares up at you, “I was the one to make the first move. If anything, it was my fault.” You let go of his face, as he watches as you sit on your feet. You swallow the lump in your throat, and utter out, “And, besides… I don’t regret anything.” Jisung’s mouth falls open, and his brows lift in what you can guess is shock, “I might not remember all of it, but I how you made me feel.”

There’s another silence, both of you staring at each other.

“I want to feel it again.”

Jisung didn’t answer right away, but his bottom lip got entrapped between his teeth subtly.

“You don’t know that,” Jisung whispers, “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Of course I do,” your brows furrow, almost angrily. “I know what I’m saying, Jisung. And I’m saying that I don’t want this to be just a once in a lifetime thing and never think of it again.” You look away, resting against Jisung’s headboard. “I know that we don’t share romantic feelings for each other. I know that, Jisung.” You look over to him, “So, I want benefits.”

“You mean…? Friends with benefits?” Jisung musters out in a low, unsure voice, “I don’t know, (Y/N). I don’t want to ruin this friendship.”

“But, that’s the whole point of it, Jisung,” you chuckle, “I know that you don’t want our friendship to weaken, and neither do I. But, Jisung, I’ve always been attracted to you. Not exactly like I want to be your girlfriend, but I want you in some way. I just don’t know if you feel the same way, so I’m saying it now. Do you want me, Han Jisung?”

He doesn’t answer right away, which makes you nervous of his answer. But, his answer satisfies you, thankfully; “Yeah. Yeah, I do. I hate to admit it, but I do. I couldn’t resist last night.”

“I know. It was my fault for urging you to do that even when you warned me not to,” you chuckle.

And, from then on, you two concluded that whenever someone needs to let off stress or steam in the form of sex, the other should be open for it. Of course, there’d be rules along with it. You didn’t want this to just be a ‘come by for sex and leave’ kind of thing, or thinking the other is romantically attracted to the other so you wanted to make some ground rules. Jisung agreed, thankfully.

There were four rules. Number One was that no one is to hear about this relationship. Not only would it cause rumors amongst school and your friends, you both agreed that it should be kept top - secret. Besides, you both didn’t want people to think you’re both in a secret relationship and that it’s more than just a friends with benefits type of relationship.

Number Two was that the minute one of you gets into a serious relationship with someone, all benefits cease. This one is quite obvious. Neither of you wanted to be defined as a cheater if either of you do end up in a relationship with someone else. No matter how much the other person wants it, if one of you is in a serious relationship, until that relationship ends and both are single, there’s no sexual activity.

Number Three was that both had to respect each other’s wishes entirely. No matter how bad they want it or how horny they might be, if the other person is uncomfortable with something or doesn’t want to have sex, then the other must respect their wishes. Again, no matter how horny or how much they want a certain thing. This also leads to a safe word between the two of you, which was just basic yellow and red. Yellow being to slow down or to take a short break and red being to stop completely without argument.

And finally, Number Four was that there’s no falling in love. This one was actually Jisung’s idea. Everything else was yours. You agreed with him, but was still skeptical about it. If you did catch feelings, you’d have to hide it. Jisung seemed pretty serious about it, though, which kind of scared you.

And, those four rules led to the present day, months after this event. You lean against a family bathroom sink with Jisung’s fingers curled around your hair, keeping your head up to watch him in the mirror as he slowly pushed himself into you. Your leggings and panties barely pushed down past your ass as Jisung undid his belt and pushed his pants down. Not even prepping you before he pushes himself into you. His cock, covered by the condom, which he had learned to always carry around, slowly dragging against your wet, oversensitive walls.

He’d been teasing you all day in the movie theatre he’d taken you to with his friends. While watching the movie alongside Hyunjin, Felix and Christopher, he was slowly playing with your clit, edging you on and on. Finally, the movie ended and after half an hour of pure torture from Jisung’s sinful hands, you dragged him to the family bathroom (which was one bathroom with a lockable door). He didn’t even hesitate before bending you over the sink, making you watch him and yourself as he fucks himself into you painfully slow.

“Oh, fuck, baby… you feel so fucking good.”

You delicately whimper at the sound of his words from behind you as he fills you. Jisung liked to call you by pet names during sex, like baby, babygirl or babe (anything with baby in it, really).

“Oh, fuck… I’m not gonna go slow, baby.” Jisung warns the minute his pelvis presses against your ass.

“I don’t care,” you groan in response, eyeing him in the reflection in the mirror, “Break me, Jisung. You’ve been teasing me all fucking day - oh my god!” you would have screamed if it wasn’t for Jisung stuffing the end of your hoodie into your mouth before his hands grip your waist before pulling out and ramming himself back into you. Once his hand lets go of your hair, your head dips down in pure bliss. Your teeth grinding against the fabric of your hoodie and your hands gripping the sink.

“I know you like it, baby,” Jisung grunts out as he starts to thrust into you, “I know how much you like it when I play with your little pussy in front of everybody like the little fucking slut you are. I know you like it, baby.” You let out choked moans at his words. The degrading words only make you wetter as you move your body back to meet with his thrusts. One of your hands reaches back to grip his wrist as Jisung’s hands dig into your hips to move your body with him. The way his cock rammed into your tight cunt burned in a blissfully sinful way.

Jisung had pulled your tank top and bra underneath your breasts so he could lean over you to play with them harshly. His hands gripping your bare, warm breasts as his chest presses against your back. His head presses against your shoulder as he breathes heavily against your neck. His tongue occasionally jutting out to lick stripes up your sensitive neck. Sucking gently on your skin, trying not to leave too many marks.

“Fuck, fuck…” Jisung curses breathily, and you try your best not to scream as he ruts into you as if it were the last time he’d ever have the chance to fuck you again. Your saliva coats the part of the hoodie that stayed in your mouth for you to bite onto. Your hands weakly grip the sink to try and hold you up, but your legs can barely hold your waist. “Oh… my god, babygirl.” Jisung sweetly moans into your ear.

Your mouth opens to let the hoodie fall out of your mouth, and you utter out, “Jisung… Jisung I can’t… oh, fuck… I can’t stand.” Jisung is quick to fix the situation by turning you around so that you’re sitting on the sink, legs thrown over his shoulder and your back and head leaning against the mirror as he fucks himself into you. Jisung doesn’t hesitate to grip onto your neck, but careful not to let off air flow, just pressing his fingers on either side of your neck as he rams himself into you. Your hands creeped up to grip his wrist, which only seemed to make Jisung more and more confident.

He pressed his hand against your core, slowly down slightly to allow himself to focus on pressing his thumb against your extremely sensitive and extremely erect clit. The minute his thumb makes contact with your sensitive bud, waves of pleasure and chills run through you, and your eyes roll into the back of your head as your back arches up, your nails digging into Jisung’s arm.

“Oh my fucking god, Jisung!” You pitifully cry out, trying your very best to contain your moans so no lingering ears would hear. But, it was getting difficult with Jisung’s hard cock thrusting ever so quickly into you and his thumb pressing firmly against your clit as his hand wraps around your neck.

“Shh… babygirl, you don’t want anyone to hear, do you?” Jisung chuckles darkly as he looks down at you, no mercy in his eyes as you clench around him. Beyond sensitive to every touch. “I want you to cum on my cock, but be as quiet as you can, baby. Try and be quiet, but I want you to cum.” His hands move from your neck to your mouth, his middle and ring finger slipping between your lips and pressing down against your tongue.

The moment his hips start to stagger and his thumb pressed harder and harder against your sensitive clit, your hip bucks violently as you feel your climax approaching. Jisung doesn’t slow down when he feels your warm walls clench around him tightly. He speeds up despite how his hips falter and tense as his own orgasm edges up, you let out a series of high pitched moans, muffled by Jisung’s finger, and Jisung lets out a string of low groans against your neck. His thumb softens against your clit, rubbing small circles to ease you out of your climax.

Your stomach twitches as Jisung pulls out of you, his thumb finally coming off your clit to gently press against your abdomen as he eases out of you. You let out a sigh as let your body relax once Jisung’s no longer in you. His fingers pull out of your mouth to deal with the condom, and you catch your breath. Your hands clutching the sink as your legs stay limp on his shoulders, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“You made such a fucking mess. How horny were you?” Jisung teases as he eyes the cum and pure wetness still seeping out of you. You glare at him.

“Very. And it’s your fault.” You snap, and Jisung raises his hands in defense.

“Hey, guilty as charged,” Jisung chuckles and pulls up his underwear and pants, not bothering to tighten the belt around him before he reaches over to grab paper towels to help clean you up.

“Still. You were the one teasing me during the movie,” you utter out as Jisung wipes away the cum with the paper towel, “Couldn’t even focus on it. You seemed to enjoy every bit of it, though.”

“You know it,” Jisung jokingly winks at you, and you playfully hit his head.

Once he’s finished cleaning you, you get off the sink to pull up your underwear and your pants, sighing deeply at the sore feeling in your core. “Fuck… Jisung, you’re carrying me back to my dorm.” Jisung couldn’t argue with you, since you’d always have the upperhand, especially since Jisung knows he can become an animal when fucking you, and usually blames it on ‘not being able to hold back’.

“As you wish, princess,” he teasingly calls you, and you glare at him as he buckles his belt before turning his back to you and crouching down for you to get onto his back.

When you do, he unlocked the door and started heading out, both of you not really caring for the wandering eyes of people who were curious why two adults came walking out of the family bathroom. Luckily, Felix, Hyunjin and Christopher were all gone, since you couldn’t spot them anywhere. The movie theatre was in the center of a mall, so you had suspected they were somewhere, roaming the stores of the mall.

“I swear, I’m going to have arms bigger than Changbin’s at some point. Having to carry you everywhere,” Jisung complains, and you groan.

“It’s not my fault all you do is go rough,” you counter, and you can see Jisung roll his eyes, “Maybe if you were a bit more gentle you wouldn’t have to carry me. But, hey, you need the workout.”

“Do you not like it rough?” Jisung teases.

“I never said that,” you mutter, and Jisung laughs triumphantly.

At first, things were a bit awkward between the two of you, but that was to be expected. It wasn’t until Jisung was knocking on your dorm room door at three in the morning and railed you while your roommate was out grabbing groceries (at three in the morning? You didn’t know why, either.) because he had just gotten into a fight with one of his friends and “needed to let off steam”. After that, everything even related to the benefits you both have turned into a normal thing, and you both seemed to get even closer with each other. You both could talk about information that would be considered weird between normal friends, but since you’ve both seen each other completely nude over a dozen times, it wasn’t as weird anymore.

“But I don’t just like it rough, you know? If it’s intimate and slow, then I don’t care,” you sighed, resting your chin comfortably on his shoulder. Jisung doesn’t respond. In fact, he frowns at you. Why? You had no clue. All the more, it was a silent walk back to the dorm buildings. Jisung dropped you off at your dorm, and your roommate, a geeky, yet strange, girl named Jeo Jeongja thanked Jisung for taking you home.

“And, by the way, (Y/N),” Jisung said before leaving, and you raise a brow as you climb up onto your bed, “I expect you to meet me at the D.R. tomorrow night. Jeongin’s gonna be outta town for the weekend.” Jisung winks at you, and your breath catches in your throat.

D.R. was your secret word for ‘dorm room’. Since saying directly, especially in front of others, that you’re going over to a boy’s dorm room when they’re roommates going to be out of town is suspicious to say the least, you both decided to come up with that.

“Are you alright with that?” Jisung asks, his tone lacing with a delicate worry.

“Definitely,” you shoot him a playful smile.

“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow. See ya, Jeongja,” Jisung waves at Jeongja, who gave him a subtle wave back, not really interested or immersed in the short lived conversation you and Jisung were having. And with that, Jisung left, closing the door behind him.

There’s a subtle silence between you and Jeongja. You both might be roommates, but you could never really consider her a friend. The most you two talk to each other is when you help each other study with whatever topic. Once Jisung leaves, Jeongja sits up on her bed and stares at you with a playful smile.

“Oh my god, I don’t get how you’re not crushing on him” Jeongja giggles.

“He’s my best friend,” you sigh, laying down on your pillows to try and soothe the ache in your gut from your last session with Jisung, “I could never picture myself with him, you know. If you want him, have at it. But, be warned, he is a player.”

“Oh. I know that much,” Jeongja laughs shortly. You should’ve known, since Jeongja seemed to have ears all around the school. Every rumor eventually gets to her, and through your ears, whether you want to hear about it or not, “I heard he’s been fucking with most of the popular girls.”

“Oh, really now?” your brows raise. For some reason, it sparks an angry flame in you. Sure, you might not be in love with him, but the fact that you both have an intimate relationship makes you jealous when you hear that he’s been with other girls, but you try not to show it as much.

Jeongja shrugs a shoulder, “Just what’s been going around. I only report what I hear. And, apparently, Jisung knows all of the rumors. He just hasn’t said anything about it.”

“Well, he hasn’t talked to me about it,” you sigh, taking your phone out of your pocket, debating whether or not to talk to Jisung about what you're hearing. After a few brief moments of staring at your locked phone, you decide against it and let it fall onto your stomach. “Do you mind keeping me updated on this shit?”

“Why? Is someone jealous?” Jeongja wiggles her shoulders and brows at you, smirking.

“Hell no,” you groan, your head falling back, and you rub your eyes. Exhaustion crashing over you, “I’m going to bed, Jeongja. Do whatever you want, but don’t turn the lights back on.” You get up briefly to shut the lights off before climbing back under your blankets, slipping off your bra.

“But, it’s only nine!”

“I don’t give a shit. I’m tired.”

But, a part of you wasn’t. A part of you was beyond eager for what Jisung had in mind for tomorrow. Your aching core began to throb at the thoughts.

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simsadventures · 4 years ago

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Panopticon: Chapter 27: War Path

Alpha Steve x Omega Reader

Summary: Steve is livid and tries to find you but somebody keeps putting obstacles in his way. You, on the other hand, get to meet the devils and learn some harsh truths.

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, angst, abduction, slight mentions of torture, life in captivity, lying, swearing, mentions of violence against women, shitty people in general, loads of feels, I would hope, mentions of suicide, mentions of death

Word Count: 3800

A/N: Du dun… Who is ready for some angst? Many of you weren’t happy that we’re taking this route, but it needed to happen because the world is full of assholes who try to make people unhappy. Anyway, so excited about this one, and I can’t wait for you to tell me what you thought. Love you all!! xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

< Previous Chapter

“That won’t help to find my Omega, so no!” Steve yelled across the whole room, and even the experienced Alpha fighters gathered in the room couldn’t help but shudder at Steve’s authoritative voice. They were trying to help, coming up with new ideas to try and bring the Circle down, or at least make somebody from the inside communicate with them to tell Steve and his team the location of his Omega. But no idea was good enough for Steve.

It had been four days. Four days without his precious Omega, and Steve felt like he was slowly losing his mind. He desperately needed you next to him, just to feel your warm, soft skin pressed against his, or to see the light in your eyes whenever you looked at him. But he had nothing.

He often saw broken Alphas after all that went down on Earth a few years ago, and while he couldn’t really imagine what they must have been feeling at that time, walking like dead men, some of them on the brink of death because they just couldn’t handle their lives without their loved ones, Steve understood it all now.

He knew he had to concentrate because he felt you in his veins, felt that you were alright considering the circumstances and, most importantly, that you were still alive. That was the sole reason why he didn’t end it yet. But he was hanging on a thread because each day and night he had to spend without you, his mind was going just a little more insane. He was hearing your voice and this morning, he even saw you standing by the bed. He was elated, but when he blinked a few more times, he realised that it was his brain playing tricks on him and that none of what had happened was just a nightmare.

Moreover, he had to orchestrate a funeral for Peter and Gamora. The sadness over their loss was embedded deep in Steve’s soul, and he knew he would never get over it, even if he got you back. When he got you back, he scolded himself every time he thought of it, but it was to no avail. The desperation and pain seeped deep into his bones, and the once positive Alpha, who used to be full of life was just a walking shell of numbness.

Sam and Bucky tried to pick up the mood in the room now and then, but they knew all too well that there was nothing they could say or do to make the situation better. The only thing Steve really needed was to get you back, and they empathised with him. Moments after the realisation hit them that you were indeed gone, they rushed to their own huts to check on their own mates. Their bonds felt fine, but the fucked-up situation got into their heads, and they needed to see their loves for themselves. Both Meera and Tina were sitting comfortably in their houses, unaware of the terror going on just mere meters away from them. They all spent the afternoon scenting and crying, their hearts clenching for their friend who was lost in his thoughts and his pain.

But Steve tried to come up with a solution. He knew Rumlow would take you somewhere far, but not far enough not to brag about it. The circle was almost a day drive so Steve would have bet Rumlow’s hiding place was somewhere between his own house and the hell house they called the Omega haven. But that was still too much land to cover just by foot or by car, since there were so many abandoned houses and warehouses, not even talking about all the hidden places deep in the forests. So, just going somewhere blindly was not an option.

Then, he thought of using what was left of the functioning camera system between the city and his lands, trying to see if he could pinpoint at least the direction where Rumlow and his team went. But he came up with nothing since most of the cameras had been destroyed soon after the war had started.

Steve even thought of taking some military dogs and making them sniff your clothes to find you, but that would mean hundreds of kilometres to search, and that was just impossible. Every single thing Steve came up with was a nonsense, and the longer he couldn’t figure out how to find you, the more desperate and angry he had become. His people knew it was nothing personal, but his yelling and blaming was sometimes too difficult to bear for any of them. Steve knew he was being a dick, and he apologised every time his nerves got the better of him, but it was like he couldn’t do anything about it.

It was when Bucky spoke up with a guilty look that Steve finally got a good idea from somebody. Not that he particularly liked it, but it was something useful at last, and Steve was actually quite angry with himself for not thinking of it sooner. The idea was to call Peggy because she was always able to find Rumlow a little easier than the rest of the world. How that worked exactly Steve never asked, because Peggy was one of those who kept their work pretty shut, and she wouldn’t brag or even talk about it, so Steve had barely any idea of what Peggy really did. There used to be times when he minded when it drove him up the wall, but not anymore. He didn’t care how she did it, the only thing Steve needed was to get you back.

He called her almost immediately, listening to her smooth voice as she assured him that she would devote a majority of her time to help him because, after all, she still cared for him very much. Steve thanked her from the bottom of his heart and resolved to wait for her to come back to him since there was literally nothing else to do for him but to wallow in his pain.

Surprisingly, it only took a few hours for Peggy to reach out and tell Steve that she might have found him. His heart started beating like crazy as if feeling that he might be getting you in his arms sooner than he expected. Peggy told him that she got the memo that Rumlow was hiding in an old warehouse south of the manor, around 70 kms away, and Steve just growled, knowing he was kind of right in his assumptions. He quickly gathered his team, not really speaking much, but they all understood. This was a life or death mission because most of the team was sure Steve wouldn’t survive that if they didn’t find you.

Steve pretty much jumped out of a moving car when they neared the building, and he got to work immediately, going into the commander mode, assigning roles and talking strategy for when they would come in contact with Rumlow’s team. Everything was meticulously planned, and Steve had a good feeling about that. The only issue was that he couldn’t smell you. But he simply thought that he was still far enough to be able to do that and that they were probably keeping you in some shutoff room.

The closer to the building they got, however, the weirder the whole situation felt. No men were standing outside on the lookout, there were no specific smells to tell the team that there were indeed people hiding inside, and when they finally got in, they found the place completely empty.

They rummaged through all the rooms, even in the basement and on the roof, but the only thing they got was some cloth lightly smelling like Rumlow, but not enough to tell them how long ago he was at the warehouse. Steve screamed in frustration because there was no sign of you, not even a hint of your smell that he so helplessly craved.

Bucky and Sam shared distressed looks before they each grabbed Steve from one side and brought him back to the car, hollering at the whole team that the mission was over and that they needed to come back home. Steve didn’t speak the entire ride back, just staring out of the window, thinking of all the times you two would take such rides to and from the city, always discussing new books or just sharing stories from your youths. Steve now found that he took these moments for granted. He enjoyed them, sure, but not enough. There was the nagging voice telling him that he should have done more, that he ought to have taken you with him to that fucking meeting, and none of this would have happened.

“Stop it, punk. None of this is your fault so stop with the self-blaming and call Peggy to tell you what the fuck happened that her tip wasn’t true,” Bucky interjected Steve’s thoughts, and as many times before, Steve wondered whether Bucky could just read him like an open book or if he had a direct link to his brain. Steve shook his head and dialled the number.

“So, happily ever after?” Peggy said smugly, and if she stood anywhere near Steve, he swore he would have hit her.

“Nothing and nobody’s fucking happy, Peggy. Nobody was there except for some piece of cloth that was supposed to smell like Rumlow. Who the fuck gave you this tip? I need to find my Omega, and I don’t have the time to drive around the city and march into every single abandoned building just because you have a hunch. I need real information, Peggy, and if you can’t give that to me, then you’re just wasting my time,” Steve said more tiredly than anything else, but Peggy’s face contorted in annoyance on the other end of the line.

“I never waste your time, Stevie, you remember that. Look, I thought the info was top-notch, but I’ll keep looking. How about I come to your place, and we can think of a plan together?”

“Yeah, yeah whatever, it definitely can’t harm us. I’ll be expecting you,” Steve sighed and hung up, nodding at Sam who was watching him through the rearview mirror.

“Peggy said she’d come and help from the mansion. I mean, I’d rather have the whole fucking team together looking for Y/N, but I can’t fly everyone here from god-knows-where, so anyone who wants to join in is welcomed.”

Sam nodded but didn’t like it one bit. He understood that Steve was desperate, but Peggy was and had always been bad news, and Sam had a hard time trusting her even back in the days when they had to fight side to side. All the secrecy surrounding her just stank, and Sam was sure he’d keep an eye on her, just in case. He wanted everything to go over smoothly for Steve, and nobody needed a sneaky bitch who would throw them under a train the second she got a better deal from the opposing side.

You let your hand slide on the ground underneath you. It was rough with what felt like small rocks that were cutting you in the palm. You were seated, and your whole body hurt since you have been in this position for hours. Nobody talked to you since they killed your friends and abducted you. They just blindfolded you and tied you up, changing positions every few hours probably to disorient you since you doubted anybody really cared how comfortable you were. All you could do was rely on your senses and learn as much about your surroundings as you could. You weren’t even sure why you cared, but your brain couldn’t take thinking about anything related to Steve, so you busied it by making sure you knew everything you could.

You learned that there were three places they would keep you in. You presumed that they were all in one room, but they changed whether you were sitting or lying down. You weren’t even sure what time it was and slept when they put you laid you down. Nobody ever touched you inappropriately, and that’s how you assumed not one of those people was Rumlow.

The first place they would let you sit in was in an old crinkly chair made of rough wood as you had a few splinters from rubbing your hands against the arm-holders. It had four metal legs, and from the sounds, it made every time you shifted, you thought it was a rather old and overused piece of furniture.

The second place was where you were sitting now. It was by the wall, which was cold and smelt of moss, and you even though you sensed death a few times, you knew that was just your exhausted brain playing games with you. The ground was full of rocks and shards of glass, so it was your least favourite place to be of the three. The ground was colder than all the other areas, and every time they made you stand up, there was a wet patch where your ass touched the ground as the coldness accumulated against your hot body, making you wish you could just change. But your abductees would never answer to your pleas, so after what you assumed were a few days, you just gave up asking them altogether.

The third place was a makeshift bed, created out of a few pieces of wood pushed together and an old and smelly mattress. You tried to ignore all that the smell evoked in you, but you sometimes choked on your own saliva as you shifted and changed position, getting another whiff of what smelt like a hundred of butts and sweat. But it was a mattress, and you could get a few hours of sleep, so you couldn’t dwell on the details.

When you found out everything there was with your surroundings you tried to pay attention to your abductors. And while you couldn’t say precisely how many there were, you had a pretty good idea. As you were an Omega, blindfolded and cuffed, they always came alone, and you recognised each of the people by their steps. There were four of them, each of them having differences in their weight, the length of their steps and the carefulness with which they handled you. That’s how you came up with the number of four.

Number two was by far your favourite. They (you assumed it was a he but you couldn’t be sure) would always leave you alone even when you needed to use the bathroom. You knew they were in the room, but they had the decency to at least not physically touch you, and, in your mind, you created this picture that the person even turned around to leave you to do your business. They would also give you the biggest amount of water, seeing how you were parched because number four was a complete asshole and would always allow only a gulp before he drastically took the cup away from your mouth.

And that was your days, filled with diverting your brain from thinking about the graver questions, like where were you, would Steve ever find you, what did they want from you, etc. Every time any of those popped up in your head, you choked up, and had to start touching your surroundings or else you’d have gone insane by now.

It was when number three was supposed to come and let you sleep that you heard it. It was faint, but your ears perked up at anything that wasn’t your own breath or the sound of boots of your abductors hitting the ground. And this was neither. These were human voices talking about something behind the door. Your heart-rate picked up immediately because, while you hated the routine of four guards and three positions, you also knew that routine was good. Anything that was out of the routine could possibly mean death to you, and you tried to do anything to avoid that. The voices grew nearer, and you shuddered involuntarily, bracing yourself.

When the door opened, the cold air hit your face, and you hid it between your shoulder blades.

“Well, well, well, here is the famous Omega the world is searching for. You look so pathetic, it’s actually quite funny,” you heard a female voice say, and your brows knitted together. You heard it before, you just couldn’t place the voice for the life of you.

“Yeah, well, the sooner she stops pining for that pathetic excuse of an Alpha and becomes mine, she will look much better. I mean, not that anybody’s gonna see her since she is just an Omega pussy, but she is my Omega pussy, so,” the man trailed off, and you didn’t have to think to place this voice. This voice haunted your worst nightmares, so you were pretty familiar with it.

Rumlow

“Whatever, Rumlow. All we need is to get rid of her mating mark, and we’ll be good. Steve called me and found the warehouse where I sent him empty, and I, as a devoted friend, told him I’d help him from the mansion so I’ll have easy access to him and I will divert him from here if need be. You just need to do what you must so that I can have him back,” the woman spat, and it was as if a light bulb switched on. God, you felt stupid for not suspecting she had her ugly fingers in this. Fucking Peggy who obviously wanted Steve back even when she visited him all those months ago.

And while it was nice that Steve didn’t feel the same, this woman was clearly a maniac, and she wouldn’t stop at anything to get what she wanted.

But, there was one more thing that caught your attention. They wanted to get rid of your mating mark, and the thought paralysed your whole body. There were only a few ways to do that to any mated couple, and none of them was humane or accepted by most people. You’ve heard of Omegas trying to sever their bonds as they didn’t like who chose them, and so they cut a clean line across their mark, but even then the bond couldn’t be severed completely. There was also the option of just biting an Omega hard enough where their mates’ mark was, and trying to beat mark with a mark.

You also heard that true mates were inseparable, and while Bruce told you that you were true mates, you could never know for sure. The inseparableness of true mates could just as well be some old maid tales, it was one of the things your mother used to tell you, but you had no idea where the truth was.

The only thing you did know was that however they wanted to do it, you would go through hell, both physically and mentally, and that there was a more than likely chance that you would die in the process.

“You’re not afraid she’ll die on you?” Peggy asked more curious than concerned because, for her plan to work, your ties with Steve had to be cut. She would have preferred killing you since it was easier, quicker and with long-lasting results. But Rumlow had been obsessed with you ever since he lost the fight with Steve back at the Circle. When Peggy heard about it, she just scoffed and told him he was an idiot, because if he would have called her, she could have just snuck you out without anyone knowing and they wouldn’t have been in this mess.

“I mean, there’s always the possibility, but I’m not letting her run around with his mark. I wouldn’t like pounding a pussy marked by somebody else. Besides, she’s stronger than she looks, isn’t it right, pussycat?” Rumlow asked, for the first time addressing you. But you knew better than to talk, so you just remained quiet, and from the low hum coming from his mouth, you assumed it was a good decision.

“And what if that bullshit about true mates is real?”

“Oh, please, not you too. Nothing like true mates exists, Peggy, I told you. Some just smell nicer to particular individuals than others, that’s it. I don’t even know why we’re losing time talking about this. Go and do whatever you want with Steve and his estate and I’ll just do what I want with this one,” Rumlow rumbled, and the next thing you heard was the clicking of high-heels against the hard floor, leaving you alone in the room with the devil.

“Now, sweetheart, I think we should begin, hm?”

“Oh, Stevie, you don’t look good. Here, let me bring you to your bedroom so you can rest and the team and I will search for your mate in the meantime, hm?” Peggy suggested nicely, and Steve nodded, happy there was somebody who could possibly save you. But before she put her claws on his arm, Sam appeared out of nowhere and stopped her hand. She hissed like a cat and Sam gave her an are-you-fucking-kidding-me look.

“I think it would be better if you stayed down here, Peggy, as you said, you are such a valuable asset to this team that I wouldn’t want to you to waste your time by going with Steve here. I will accompany him to his bedroom so that he can get some sleep, and, meanwhile, you can work with Bucky,” Sam smirked but didn’t wait for her response as he led Steve towards the staircase and up to his bedroom. There was no fucking way in hell Sam would let Peggy be with Steve alone. And since he shared his worries with Bucky, there were two of them looking out for their best friend, which left Peggy in a tough position.

She watched Sam and Steve leave the room, and Bucky would laugh hadn’t it been such a delicate situation, because Peggy really looked like the Goddess of Revenge. That just further proved Sam’s theory about Peggy being fishy, to say the least, and Bucky was starting to question whether she didn’t have something to do with your disappearance.

Peggy saw right through them, and she smirked to herself. If they wanted to play games with her, so be it. She would get Steve alone and inject the serum in him she had been making for so long, and they would finally live happily ever after. Just like they were supposed to. All she needed was to stay close to Steve for a couple of days, get him alone enough times, and he would be all hers.

/ Next Chapter >

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justcourttee · 5 years ago

Note

Hey. Can you write one where the batfam visits Marinette at school and the class is just plain surprised and chaos ensues. You can include any salt (if yes, preferably Alya and a jealous Adien). Ship is daminette with sibling Jasonette or something like that. Thanks

Sorry It’s a little late! I hope this is something like what you had in mind :)) @long-lost-peace

Career Day

“-And it was just terrible Damian! Lila literally stood in front of the class and told them how she tried to get you all to come for career week, but that you all were just so busy in Thailand on a business trip that you just didn’t see how you could make it.”

Damian chuckled at his exasperated girlfriend. He knew how agitated this sausage haired woman made her, but his laughter couldn’t be helped. After all, every time she enters a rant, her little nose scrunches up in the cutest way that he couldn’t help but compare to the hamster she’s always wanted.

“Damiannnn, this isn’t funny! I was literally going to ask Dick if he could come for Friday’s session, Madame Bustier knew that too! So for her to step up and claim that it was all her idea? Gods, now he can’t even come because everyone will praise her for ‘convincing’ him to show up.”

“I know my love, what if father and I show up instead? Dick is on a business trip in Thailand right now, attempting to expand the company into further international business, but I’m sure even he would drop the meeting if you asked.”

Marinette let out a sigh as she slunk down into her seat, only the top of her head visible in the laptop camera.

“I know he would, but I’m retracting my ask. I really don’t want to deal with the backlash. Besides, it’s getting late. Chat will be expecting me for patrol in an hour and I haven’t even started my homework yet.”

Damian nodded as they said their goodbyes before signing off his computer. His hand absentmindedly reached for the small token the Marinette had given him just last summer. It was a river stone that she had engraved with the name he had first called her; Hobi.

He spun the stone several times before gently setting it back in its rightful spot. If he wanted to help his love, then he was going to need more chaotic energy than his own. Picking up his phone, Damian dialed a number he had learned by heart over the years. The phone had barely rung twice before the man answered.

“What up demon spawn? Ready to cause some trouble for dear old dad?”

Damian rolled his eyes trying not to imagine what Jason could’ve possibly meant. Instead, he turned his focus to the task at hand.

“This is more important Todd. Marinette needs our help.”

There was a momentary pause on the other side of the phone and for a brief second, Damian was tempted to check to see if Jason had accidentally hung up on him. (it wouldn’t have been the first time.) He was both relieved and perplexed when a sound rang through the background that was suspiciously similar to a gun being loaded.

“Well, why didn’t you start with that Damian? Who exactly do I have to kill?”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Career week couldn’t come to an end fast enough for Marinette. Hearing Lila’s false tears over her Damiboo and favorite brother-in-law not being able to make it despite her constant begging was both infuriating and a bit nauseating. She was almost certain that if Damian heard the word Damiboo uttered in a half-mile radius of himself, he would bring down his sword on that person’s neck.

“Alright class, settle down.” Madame Bustier walked into the room, an ear-splitting grin accompanying her. “We have a few very special guests to finish off this Career Week. In fact, one of your own classmates made this meeting happen!”

The class muttered excitedly as all eyes landed on Lila in the front row. Marinette placed her head on her desk, ignoring Adrien’s hand attempting to rub calming circles in her back. She was 100% done with this week.

“Please welcome Bruce Wayne and his associates here to talk about the world of Entrepreneurship.”

Several jaws hit the desks as Bruce walked in, Jason and Damian in tow, all wearing bright smiles. Marinette sat up so fast that her back crushed Adrien’s hand into the bench behind them.

“Ouch, excited much my lady?”

Marinette ignored his teasing as her eyes narrowed in on her boyfriend standing in the front of the room, an absolute shit-eating grin gracing his face.

“Oh no.” Adrien followed her stare down to the boy in the front of the room, instantly feeling a dislike for him. If his lady was uncomfortable, then so was he.

“Thank you for having me Madame Bustier and on such short notice. I realize that Marinette said it would only be my son Dick Grayson, but seeing as he was away for a business trip, I just knew I couldn’t leave our favorite Parisian high and dry.”

There was an instant silence across the room as all eyes turned from where Lila sat in the front row to where Marinette sat in the back. She wanted to shrink in her seat and disappear from the number of people looking at her, but it felt impossible.

“Anyways, I would like to start my presentation by stating-”

“Excuse me, sir!” Alya’s hand shot into the air, her stare intense as some of Gotham’s finest.

“Uhm I haven’t covered any information yet Miss, did you have a question about my flight?”

A few chuckles sounded throughout the classroom, but that didn’t seem to stop Alya as she stood, her arms crossed in front of her body.

“I believe you owe my best friend an apology. Marinette didn’t get you here, Lila did.”

Bruce’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked back to where Jason and Damian stood.

“I didn’t get your girlfriend’s name wrong, did I, Damian?”

Damian shook his head, his grin pulling into a smirk as his eyes met Marinette’s.

“I would hope you didn’t father. After all, you have known her for years now.”

Bruce nodded thoughtfully as if considering Damian’s information as a possibility.

“So as I was saying, thanks to Marinette-”

“You mean Lila? Damian, how could you mix up your own fiancee with a shell of a human being like Marinette.”

Damian took a step forward, one hand on his shoulder holding him back as Jason sent a wink in his direction.

“Madame Bustier, if I understood right, Brucie here offered a free trip for your class to the Thailand location this winter if they could sit through just one measly presentation. Are you really going to let this rude child ruin that for the rest of the class?”

Bustier’s smile wavered as she turned her attention to where Alya sat, motioning for her to sit and zip her lips. With a great huff of annoyance, Alya compiled.

“Excellent, now that we can begin-”

“I’m just saying, Mr. Wayne. Lila did all this hard work, attended all your charity functions, helped your city’s heroes, and is betrothed to your son. How could you not recognize her?”

Madame Bustier tried to wave Alya down once more but it was useless.

“Alya, is it?” the girl nodded confidently as she slung her arm around Lila’s shoulders. “I suggest that whoever this Lila person is, you should reconsider your friendship with her. If you or she were caught spreading rumors about another billionaire besides myself, you might not make it off so easily. We take defamation very seriously as it could hurt our empires. Take that as lesson one for Entrepreneurship; always know who you’re working with.”

Alya’s mouth gaped like a fish out of water as she slipped back down into her seat, her eyes burning holes into the side of Lila’s head. With the new peace, Bruce continued his presentation with the full attention of the rest of the class. When the time came for questions, every hand but two were raised high.

“How about you sir? The blonde in the back beside Marinette.”

Adrien stood, his eyes narrowed in on Damian.

“You said the first lesson was to always know who you’re working with, well, did you know that your son is a liar?”

Another round of hushed whispers echoed through the room as Adrien took the first step down toward the front of the classroom. Bruce cocked his head to the side as he instinctively put out a hand to catch Damian before he could move forward.

“How would you justify that kid?”

Adrien stepped closer, his posture rigid as his stare never left Damian’s face.

“Well, he’s been telling you that he’s been dating Marinette, but that is a lie. Marinette is my girlfriend.”

Damian’s fist curled as Jason took a step to intercept the two boys.

“I think you forgot to put a space between the girl and friend sir. You see, demon spawn here and pixie pop up there are together, no space. You and pixie pop are just friends.”

Everyone’s eyes shifted uneasily between the men, unsure of who was going to strike first. No one was given the chance as Marinette raced down the stairs, pulling Bustier to the side. Her whispers were harsh and rushed and when she pulled back, all the color from the teacher’s face had drained.

“That’s enough Adrien, I wouldn’t want to bother your father over an inconvenience like this.”

The boy's mouth closed tightly as he turned his attention to where Marinette stood, a sudden feeling of nausea coursing through him. Did she really just pull that card here? In front of everyone?

He couldn’t say a word as he marched back to his seat, ignoring the many questions that were thrown his way.

“Well, I’m sorry to everyone that had real questions, but this stunt seemed to have taken up all of my time. Madam Bustier, do you mind if I check Marinette out of school early?”

The teacher could only nod as the men swept Marinette out of the room before she could protest. She waited until they had reached the car before turning on the men, hitting each of them as hard as she could. Three simultaneous ow’s sounded through the courtyard.

“Pixie pop, what was that for?” Jason’s whining was shut down instantly with one cold look.

“I told you all not to come! You totally just made everything worse.”

Bruce risked a step forward as he pulled her into a hug.

“Marinette, you mean the world to this family. Defamation to the Wayne family needs to be shut down instantly. That Alya girl is bad for your emotional state, the Lila one as well.”

Marinette tried to deny his accusations, but Bruce refused to hear any of it. He pulled back, opening the door to push Jason inside, slamming it shut before he could fight back. With the other two gone, Marinette was forced to face her boyfriend.

“Hobi-”

“Don’t start with your cute nicknames. What was that scene with Adrien?”

“He was the jealous one! I can’t help if he tried to attack me.” Damian crossed his arms in defiance, ignoring the daggers Marinette’s eyes were shooting.

“You know he’s just a friend mon amour, you are the only one I want.”

Damian grumbled under his breath as he allowed himself to be pulled into Marinette’s embrace. After a few minutes, he pulled back, a curiosity overtaking his face.

“What did you say to the teacher to cause her to stifle Agreste?”

Marinette’s smile was devilish. It would almost be cute if it wasn’t so terrifying.

“I just reminded her that defamation was taken very seriously and that if she didn’t stop Adrien, he could have started a full-blown legal battle between two very powerful men, leaving the school and her job in the crossfires.”

Damian placed a kiss on her forehead before moving towards the car.

“Hobi, you amaze me at every turn.”

Marinette rolled her eyes as she allowed him to help her into the car. She would deny till her last breath that she was grateful for that particular Career Day, but the one thing she couldn’t deny was how much she loved the Wayne boys.

Permanent Tag List:

@damianette-is-life @ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @long-lost-peace @heaven428 @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava

#daminette #maribat #alya salt

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 4 years ago

Text

it wasn’t power i coveted; it was acceptance.

Titans 3.06

y’know, i was just thinking the other day that 1.06/1.07 and 2.06/2.07 were the best episodes of their respective seasons, so i have great hopes going in to this one. fingers crossed!

as always, typing this up as i see the episode.

SPOILERS AHEAD

1. oh! um... that was a Cold Open, all right. *nudges* get it? cold? because it’s snowing? and two people got murdered in cold blood? eh?

... oh, i’ve just started.

1.5. i wonder if “i want to be sipping pina coladas on a beach with you” is the new “i’m just one day away from retiring.” i was so on edge after that--i kept expecting that car to explode. even so, the way they died wasn’t an anticlimax: brutal, and quick.

1.75. so i’m assuming that’s the titular lady vic! this show better bring up why this doll was important or why these two cops needed to be killed, and not leave it to the ether like jericho’s little mindscape jaunt in 2.08 (i’m still dying to know what that was about???)

i love how deliberately unappealing wayne manor is.

(sorry for the pic quality. i don’t have hbo max! ssshhh.)

2.3. i love the many references to “home” and “our house” when they’ve been here for less than a week and saw one of their friends get blown into pieces. i mean, i unironically love it: home is where family is, after all!

2.5. i’d like to say that kom is playing some sort of long game here, especially given the build-up we had last season and some of the more niggling details this season: why did kom choose now to use her bond to lure kory when she’s been on earth for months? why did justin call kory now, just around the time that she started getting kom’s visions? and what about kom’s ability to exactly imitate other people? hmmm.

2.75. the reason i wrote i’d like to say is that i’ve made the mistake of assuming plot complexity where there is none; i was so invested in the jason todd orchestrated his own death theory for instance, when it turns out that oops! ra’s al ghul just happened to leave a little lazarus puddle in gotham, and oh yeah! scarecrow just happens to have a network of henchmen working for him on the outside and a fully functional laboratory and a weapons cache fit for a new supervillain in the basement of the high security psychiatric unit/prison that he’s in!

(no i’m not bitter, why do you ask)

2.8. iiiii don’t know what to say about the implications of sex slavery being a thing on tamaran, so i’m not going to say anything at all. for now.

3. gotham, six years ago... wasn’t it five years before s2 that jericho died and the titans disbanded? and when was the flashback from 1.06 where dick let zucco die? i think it was after the events of 2.08: jericho? i can’t seem to find any transcripts or reliable information online, so i’m going to have to rewatch 1.06 at some point.

(i love the old-fashioned batman music in this heist scene)

3.5. “security is a joke... it’s my way of keeping my dad on his toes”. what you’re an ethical thief now, like an ethical hacker? i don’t think that excuse is going to sell, barbara, on the day you do encounter a decent security system and your father is forced to arrest you.

(then again, gotham’s security is piss-poor. did you know that you could just walk into arkham asylum without any official clearance, ply one of its most dangerous inhabitants with contraband, and said inmate could get away with having an entire laboratory and weapons cache--NO I’M NOT GOING TO LET THIS GO)

3.8 so that flashback between dick and barbara was really cute! and also illuminating:

a) dick sounds so light, so... um. look. i have some apologies to tender to mr thwaites, because while i’ve always thought he does a fine job as dick grayson, i’ve never been terribly fond of his cadence as he delivers dialogue. it’s often monotonous, i thought, but then again, he’s usually delivering exposition or dealing with one soul-crushing crisis or the other. so i was pleasantly surprised to hear dick sound so carefree and alive in his conversation with barbara, laughing frequently, his emotions so bare and bubbling to the surface. it’s really a fantastic contrast to the traumatised and world-weary dick grayson that we see now, even more so than the costume department just bunging a backwards-baseball cap on mr thwaites’ head and hoping that will convince us of his relative youth.

b) and god, when he wakes up from that memory, all alone in his bed, bleeding from bullet holes in his shoulder (bullet holes that are--in a somewhat convoluted way--barbara’s fault)? yikes. it’s great. you have my apologies, mr thwaites!

c) can you imagine dick just... crawling back to wayne manor, trying not to be seen by anybody, shedding his suit and just... collapsing onto his bed without even tending to his wound? the sheer emotional and physical exhaustion of it?

d) it’s so interesting to see how barbara and dick approach the idea of legacy--a big theme on the show!--in this flashback. barbara is the one bucking the idea that she should follow in her father’s footsteps, while dick seems pretty content with the batman-and-robin setup, and even tries to get barbara to join their team (robin-girl. pfffft). obviously after this several traumatic things happen wherein dick ends up questioning and then resenting his role as robin, his relationship with batman or even returning as a vigilante at all. and barbara... ends up replacing her father as commissioner. it’s tragic, really.

e) the dynamic between dick and barbara in the flashback reminds me of how it was between dick and donna in 1.08 and even between kory and dick in early s1. it’s like having an older, strong-willed woman by his side means he gives over the steering wheel for a while and lets himself... unspool, a little bit. it’s kinda endearing.

also:

*pinches his cheeks*

3. you know, we talk about dick and Eldest Daughter Syndrome, and that’s definitely valid, but here gar seems to me the embodiment of it, with all the emotional gardening and firefighting that he’s expected to do. he’s kind of the guy expected to keep his shit together and take care of everyone else while they are falling completely to pieces, unable to carve out time to process his own trauma. he’s also picked up dick’s and kory’s tendencies to bottle up their struggles and shun appearing vulnerable, and he’s struggling in the shadow of both dick and kory undergoing acute crises, his best friend (and frequent confidante) on the other side of the world, and seeing hank die, utterly helpless to stop it.

i’m glad that he got a chance to tell dick even a smidgeon of what he really feels, and i hope this is at least a semblance of a wake up call for dick to actually sit down and work with the people he repeatedly calls family.

3.5. it’s heartening to see that dick immediately makes it his priority to go talk to gar. but don’t blow off kory in the process, man!

4. i’m really loving this dynamic between kom and conner--i get the idea that both of them consider each other as Unknowns, alien two times over. but conner’s only ever known the titans, who embrace being different, and kom’s only ever known... well.

anyway, kory is Really Stressed, and honestly? #relatable.

when you’re forced to bring an estranged family member to hang out with your friends...

4.5. i love that the titans are spending so much time in the kitchen. a real family!

5. jonathan crane is a creep and i absolutely cannot stand him.

5.25. how did he get a whole lab setup (in the basement of a hospital...?) with a bunch of whitecoats to work for him? how did he just waltz into the viewing room of an operation theatre when he’s one of the most wanted men in gotham right now? why is jason wandering around maskless when--presumably--as the adopted son of the most famous person in gotham he’d be a tad more recognisable than your average joe?

why do i expect this show to answer anything anymore?

5.5. that’s not necessarily a criticism, mind; i’ve said since season 1 that titans is very comics-like in this aspect, all about the Aesthetic and the splash-page splendour rather than the niggling unimportant details of how or when the characters got to said location. like. the camera gliding over the operation being set-up, lady vic bursting in and doing her murder dance (imagine the luck of the poor intern who chose this day and this surgery to assist) and jason, shocked and slack-jawed, framed by blood.

5.75. it’s a sobering reminder for jason that, though he chose this path in order to gain control over a world that seemed like it was rapidly spinning out of his grip, he’s only succeeded in handing over even more control to a man with an agenda that is very clearly not aligned with his own. he’s in too far to stop now, though.

5.9. i have a lot more thoughts about jason! saving it up for the end of this recap, though.

6. more kitchen time! i better see dick do some cooking soon...

(”our kitchen”! it still delights me! kitchens are So Important)

6.25. so much of dick’s issues have revolved around his relationship with bruce, so it’s completely understandable that in the wake of a huge crisis where bruce literally asks dick to replace him and be a “better” him, dick would default to all the worst things he learned from the man. and i’m glad kory’s having none of it, but come on, guys. the woman’s literally fetched her fratricidal sister out of a hole in the ground with no idea what said sister is going to do next and experiencing a burgeoning sense of guilt far, far beyond her history with the titans, and dick’s too far into his autocolonoscopy that he can’t see that she needs help.

6.5. “he services your urges”--well, as far as we know, kory is the last person he had sex with...

7. “i hope [gar] isn’t angry with me...” SIR! i thought you’d already spoken to him! smh, as the kids say. kory wouldn’t be needing to reassure you if you just took the effort to build two way emotional relationships with the rest of the team. @superohclair was taking about dick’s relatively low emotional intelligence? i agree.

7.5. “i got my own problems [...] you and barbara? fix it.” YOU TELL HIM, KORY

8. man i really like this weird, sad tension between dick and barbara--this sense that both of them are approaching the other based on how they remember them and are ultimately disappointed by the truth. barbara thought she could trust dick to... well, be a better batman, but dick has not only failed at that in her eyes, but repeatedly undermined her while exploiting the authority that she gave him. in dick’s eyes, this is nothing like the barbara that he knew, rebellious and ready to do whatever it takes to find something.

like. this show sometimes really hits me in the chest about the ways it shows kids grow into adults and into caretakers, and the way it’s stop-start, the ways nothing can happen at all for a long time and then it’s Crisis Central all at once and there’s no space to breathe. the weird sort of sadness that comes with nostalgia.

8.5. oracle name drop! i agree with barbara, any system that can just randomly tap into gotham phonelines is a monster.

8.7. (i don’t know if it’s my imagination, but is dick holding himself... differently in this episode? like that wound is definitely bothering him, and he’s running on fumes)

9. man, that was a really sweet scene between kom and conner. “feeling alien in your own world”... “not quite here nor there”

honestly this team runs on conner and gar’s faith in their value as a family, and it’s a sign of conner’s generous heart that he extends that opportunity to blackfire. this arc of maturation for him, where he’s now able to consciously choose which parts of himself he can use to do the thing he wants to so--save people--has been so fulfilling to recognise. this baby’s grown with the titans! and what he’s learnt is that people can get fucked up, but the titans is a place where they can be fucked up, and grow.

MY MAN CONNER

10. oh man i’m drinking in the gar-dick interaction in this episode like i’m three days into the desert and it’s the only source of water for miles around!

a) gar is absolutely not dealing with dick’s bullshit this episode and I LOVE IT. it’s such a far cry from the man who was idolising dick/robin back in s1 and expecting him to solve all their problems. dick is fallible, dick is fucked up, but he Tries His Best and that’s ok.

b) dick, huffing and puffing through that vent, unable to put any pressure on his left shoulder, trying to have a heart to heart with gar... fuck i love this asshole.

c) bruce took in a kid who was suffering... “and made him into a weapon”. well. i absolutely agree with dick that it was bruce who put these kids into these horrible situations with him and they came away with a bucketload of trauma to add to the one that they already had. but we know that bruce was really trying with jason, and at the end of s2, dick was coming to acknowledge that bruce had offered him something that wasn’t just darkness. jason’s death and bruce’s reaction to that shattered that fragile progress.

d) “gotham got to me too.” i feel more sympathetic towards dick running off on his own than most, and it’s not just because i’m an unapologetic stan. we’ve seen before that dick... devolves when overwhelmed, and he lashes out and makes ill thought out decisions and just Does Not Deal. it happened after hearing the news that deathstroke had returned in s2, and it didn’t help that everyone around him was reeling at the news, either. this time, however, he has his salvation in his family, and despite some stupid decisions like running off and kidnapping supervillains without telling his team, he’s been really on the ball this season. thinking clearly and logically, holding it together and working on a plan, thinking two steps ahead of the villains... yes.

e) gar needing to believe that jason isn’t beyond redemption... there’s a lot of blood on his hands, too, from when he was manipulated by cadmus last season. it makes sense why he’d relate to jason’s predicament, and i hope dick picked up on that.

f) my head just added a plaintive ow after dick jumped feet first into the storage room

i need, crave gifs of this scene!

11. *sits on hands* i’m going to talk more about red hood, i promise!

12. more gar and dick! is it my birthday??!!

(actually, according to the tamil calendar, it is my birthday! my “star” birthday)

12.5. excellent. dick using some implausible training that bruce taught him to solve a mystery? passing some of that knowledge onto gar? that proud smile when he sees gar perfectly execute moves that he taught him? MY HEART IS EXPLODING

13. aw, i love flashback!dick and barbara, they’re so cute <3

13.25. why does it not surprise me that the way he proposes a relationship to barbara is by saying “we make sense”? this guy can deduce exactly who was present where and what weapon they were holding from a garbled audio recording but other times he’s utterly clueless, and that’s a consistent character beat right from s1

13.5. so.... that’s why lady vic has it out for... barbara....? i don’t get it. it’s flimsy. but hey! the fun thing about titans is that i don’t have to get it. the payoff has nothing to do with the plot.

14. i can’t believe that barbara fell for that, but at least that wheelchair fight looked awesome, so.

15. oh yeah, i forgot that red hood bullied the mob into helping him and scarecrow... at least that explains the whitecoats and the elaborate set-up.

15.5. honestly i love how this dynamic between kory and kom is developing, though i wish more of the team would pay attention to it. time to call justin, i think!

16. i wonder what happened after that second flashback where barbara got hurt during that heist. did she give up on doing any more (maybe jim caught her)? was it because dick was called away by bruce and then the titans and got caught up in his own issues? maybe barbara froze him out because she wasn’t looking for the relationship that he was looking for? maybe the idea of doing that with someone turning into batman-lite was just... unappealing? scary?

whatever it is, it doesn’t look like dick ever processed the end of that relationship. it’s very intriguing to see where their dynamic goes next.

17. so.... what, did vic deliver some fear toxin to barbara? i... what?

17.5. and i TOLD YOU that they would never explain that doll or why vic attacked those two cops at the beginning! oh, titans. never change.

18. did jason just randomly have tim’s restaurant burgled? god, i’m feeling a bit nauseous... are they going to kill tim’s father?

18.25. i feel like the rest of the season is going to wrestle with jason’s culpability in the horrible stuff he’s doing and i’m already seeing that prospect divide fans. on one hand, his story is taking a lot of oxygen away from other equally interesting story arcs, and he’s done some truly awful things, like indiscriminate murder, threatening to kill children, blowing up hank, and potentially killing tim’s parents.

there’s something to be said for the kind of hold that crane has over him, and the so-called ‘anti-fear’ drug that he keeps plying jason with--he’s alone, drugged almost constantly (to the level of dependence), fresh from the trauma of being bludgeoned to death. he hasn’t conquered fear; he’s ruled by it. on the other hand, given that he’s the one character on the show given an obvious and identifiable ‘mental illness’ arc (maaaaybe dick too), one can argue that it’s irresponsible to show this progress into such violence: jason was vulnerable because he was struggling, and that left him vulnerable, but it took only a push before he became a fucking serial killer.

but that could mean we underestimate the degree of that vulnerability, and the mechanics of this universe where he fell into the clutches of the one supervillain perfectly designed to exploit that vulnerability. that helpless spiral into further and further self-destruction is all too real. it’s valuable to know that someone who has sunk that low can still seek help--actual help--and get it.

18.5. i don’t know. it’s not a question i’m going to resolve at the end of an overlong recap at 1 in the morning. i don’t believe it’s even a question that titans can resolve. but i am interested in where they’re going next with jason.

19. this episode was genuinely great! i’m pumped for the rest of the season!

#titans #titans spoilers #meta #dick grayson #koriand'r #barbara gordon #garfield logan #conner kent #komand'r #jason todd #jonathan crane #a byronic cupcake #badass strawberry truffle #manic pixie pop tart #a tragic jalebi #this is a 3k+ MONSTER yikes

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abittersweetsongforyou · 4 years ago

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wtfock fic recs part 1

okay so some points

im sorry about the spacing but i cant be bothered to fix it, im sorry if i missed anything and i hope this was helpful

the classics (v popular, many kudos)

I Didn't Want To Share My Boyfriend Anymore by teen_content_queen So He's Happy by Masterless rescue my heart by themoongirl go and hold that lightning by themoongirl i've learned to lose you (can't afford to) by petitepeach and my love life waits by petitepeach Truth by MsAshlyjudd8 Carry You by clarecas Are You Jealous Or Are You Sulking? by teen_content_queen Sick Day by teen_content_queen can i try again? by lamourestout Floating in a most peculiar way by skamsnake rotten work by aholynight run and score by aurorawinds

Unattainable by sincerelysobbe

canon divergence/missing scenes/fix-its

woensdag 21:21 (redux) by eliottamoureux - the post first kiss that sander deserved living life and loving boys by TheGlassesPredicament - post hate crime, milan and our boys :( but :) all we can do is keep breathing by aletterinthenameofsanity - sander is homeless explanation Bringing A Boy Home by ForeverInIdle - Sander takes Robbe to meet his mother watch myself watchin' you by vitane - robbes crush on sander developing during the beach trip hey wolf, there's lions in here (hey wold, just see there's no fear) by tokyometropolis(mesohorany) - sanders perspective of ohn Rebel Rebel by skamsnake - sanders perspective on trying to get robbe to fall in love with him on the beach trip In which Sander and Robbe emigrate from Robbe's bedroom by orphan_account zaterdag 22:02 by wasteourdaysdreaming - sander wants to be with robbe diminuendo by noobishere - sander at the flatshare after robbe leaves for his exam and I know what you're feeling ('cause I feel it as well) by nothingbutniall - kissing in the tunnel a warning sign by themoongirl - sanders perspective after he ran out of the hotel reunited by themoongirl - reimagined ohn you don't even know who i am by lamourestout - robbe and sander getting to know each other take these broken wings and learn to fly by ladypeaceful - the hate crime gonna build you up (gonna help you believe, honey) by ladypeaceful - robbe takes sander to meet his mama

the broers

being assholes fucking asshole. by richietrashmouthtozier - jens is a dick and robbe is tired and sad The Familiar, Foreign, or Both by TOZ1ER - robbe grew apart from the broers by then he runs into them in the supermarket oké, so? by severegas4 - moyo is a dick being mostly good friends jahsdaj by the way by TheGlassesPredicament - robbe has been dating sander and is tired of hiding it Now I'm In It by cicelsticks - sander on a broers holiday, there's only one bed, and pining Low Volume by clubstocrews23 - sander is down but robbe is there for him a teenage manual on breathing by merengue - robbe comes out to jens, this one is seriously so good Fun Get Away by Masterless - jens doesnt like sander but he's a good friend

wtFOCK - Moyo season 4 by Createdforyou - screenplay style moyo season 4 written by some lovely people and very well done, even if screenplay isn't your thing i highly suggest trying it

romcom type aus that make my heart all fuzzy

Croissants by bruisingknees - sander works at a bakery, robbe is a customer, flirting ensues its an unrequited love by eggsntoast - sander works at a museum and robbe keeps visiting The finest of the meadow by allforyoumylove - two boys meet in a meadow Coffee and Croques by peaceoutofthepieces - barista!sander and barista!eliott we love to see it

My hand around the base of your holy neck by allforyoumylove - friends with benefits and we all know how that turns out

Come closer I'll give you all my love by Createdforyou - fake dating au babyyy

Christmas Dreams by Createdforyou - they're coworkers and its christmas! tell me that doesnt scream romcom

careless in its choosing by noobishere - they meet in a club its very cute

life was a willow and it bent right to your wind by nbrook - friends to lovers and its christmas and robbes boyfriend sucks

just friends by sincerelysobbe - friends with benefits with much pining

But darling, love is passing by by Createdforyou - barista!sander i mean who doesnt love barista!sander and strangers to friends to lovers

fun and funky aus that just hit

Let's Dance by msleviss- Sander is a DJ we love to see it our camp of dreams by aurorawinds - a summer camp au Falling For You by silver_etoile - soccer au babyyyyy Seek Only Love by iwritetropesnottragedies(recklesslee) - Sander goes to Robbe's highschool Jij Verliest by sincerelysobbe - robbe is a streamer and he deserves a nice boyfriend aka sander the blood of both is my limbo by tokyometropolis(mesohorany) - robbe is an angel and sander is a demon its fucking awesome i'm slowly falling away. by fockinglevendcliche - enemies to lovers paint me in trust by themoongirl - vampire!sander that's all u need to know Pizza Time by Quirlequast - robbe cant tell if pizza deliveryboy sander is flirting with him we don't gotta be discreet by noobishere - robbe and sander fake date but theyre actually really dating, aaron is just an idiot

flower moon by cicelsticks - hogwarts au v cute

love me while your wrists are bound by alsjeblieft - siren!sander is fucking awesome this one also has under 100 kudos and thats just wrong

masterpiece by sincerelysobbe - soulmate au babyyyy

For Real by peaceoutofthepieces - fake dating at christmas time what could be better

everything all at once by whalefairyfandom - robbe is a barista and sander is his coworker britts 'asshole' ex-boyfriend

love potion no.9 by thekardemomme - hogwarts au and its amortentia day

the blind date bomb by thekardemomme - robbe and sander on a blind date and it goes very well

I See You When You Run From The Light (within your eyes) by womenstan - sander is blind and robbe is an idiot but itll be okay eventually bsadhajshd

carry me through this sleeping city by aurorawinds - imo this is some of aurorawinds best work, they're neighbours and coworkers and v cute

the sports we play by dottori - this one was very fun and cute although i only vaguely know of the foxhole court it was still very enjoyable so even if you dont know the reference read it anyway

makes me feel things i cant explain

vrijdag 21:37 by wasteourdaysdreaming - the same party from told from different perspectives (one of my all time fucking favourites fr) to build a home by aguamarina - sander has a sister and she's the sweetest thing

you know i'm always at your shoulder (take your heart out of its holster) by wafflesofdoom - this is unfinished but so so worth the read anyway especially because the chapters kind of function as one-shots

hop in the corolla by noobishere - god this fic is everything to me like them on a trip together, in love, happy, being young, fuck its so wonderful

A New Sunday Feeling by foxsake5 - they're in love and horny and v sweet

Fizzy Colas by foxsake5 - its boys night out but robbe and sander are in love

in this universe by dottori - fluff fluff fluff my little heart

Suns Set Before They Rise by writingbuzz - boyfriends waking up together

lovers never lose by dottori - this has to be one of my all time favourites, perfectly cheesy i love it sm

Taking pictures of you as the light came through by allforyoumylove - this one is steamy so be warned but so tender and sweet

My hand around the base of your holy neck by allforyoumylove - friends with benefits but they're in love and its beautiful

Pull Me from the Dark by TheOceanIsMyInkwell - wow i mean wow, they both have issues and they're still learning and trying and they love each other even though they're sad and a bit broken.

Always mine, always yours by allforyoumylove - they go to a wedding and get engaged and its romantic as fuck and im crying

one through seven by dottori - robbe and sander are in love

#wtfock #wtfock fic #wtfock fanfic #wtfam

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shhhhsh · 4 years ago

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About Tim’s New Story….

I just really hope they address Tim’s mental health. Like, DC just been ditching really good plot lines in favor of being “woke” or pandering. Just look at all the live action shows.

Now I’m not saying they can’t make Tim queer/bi/gay, but (as someone pointed out to me) Tim’s previous story writer was bi and he still chose to write Tim as straight & in a healthy romantic relationship with Stephanie Brown. I’ve seen several people who identify as queer/bi say that to have Tim go “ ooooh I’ve fooled myself into thinking I was straight, but now I’m freeeee” sends the message that Tim’s previous relationship failed b/c he was with a woman and not because of Tim’s poor mental and emotional health.

To go back to my previous statement; by him not writing Tim as bi tells me that he didn’t want or care for Tim to be bi, but instead saw Tim as, or preferred him to be, straight. The writer had free control to write Tim how ever he wanted and yet he chose to keep Tim straight. And he actually liked & wanted Tim/Steph. Again, I’m not saying Tim can’t be queer/bi, I’m just saying I find the motivations for this possible change very fishy. Almost as if the new writer is trying to get brownie points for pandering to a portion of the fans.

I think this way b/c in every other media where a character is revealed to be LGBTQ they just did it. They didn’t beat around the bush or do any queer coding/baiting. They either announced it, just made the character that way right out the gate, or just dropped the bomb w/out warning (as seen in Netflix’s Voltron, Amazon Prime’s Invincible, and Nickelodeon’s Legend of Korra respectfully).

DC currently has a bad habit changing things to be “woke” and bragging about it or shoving it in our faces. DC is becoming the “pick me girl” of superhero media. If you want to do it, just do it. Again I just get the “look at me, look at me” & “carrot on the stick” vibes from them now. If you truly feel in your heart to do something you would just do it without the need for recognition or to be so dramatic about it.

Now what I much rather see & think it’s a natural progression for Tim:

I personally believe that if Jason, Dick, & Damian can get a story that attempts to give them character development beyond romantic relationships (romance was more of a B-plot to the character driven A-plot anyway) I think they can give it to Tim as well.

I know that the Bat-Family all struggle with some form of mental health problems (most commonly paranoia and PTSD). However, I would like to point out that trauma is was what brought the others into the vigilante lifestyle, while Tim & Barbara became traumatized because of the vigilante lifestyle. Yet, Barbara was shown overcoming her trauma and using it as motivation to get better. Tim is yet to have this moment.

We all know that Tim struggles with depression, self-esteem, and suicidal tendencies. I mean heck, him becoming Red Robin only happens because of Tim’s degrading mental health. I hate to say it, but Tim is very psychologically broken and has been show to get so depressed that he can’t even get out of bed some times. To my knowledge, Tim is the only one in the Bat-Fam that struggles in his head with the idea of not being needed, useful, or forgotten when in reality that is furthest from the truth (Steph, Jason, & Damian also feel like the black sheep periodically, but that is because they have been presented with real evidence that would lead them to logically believe this. I.e being actually forgotten or dismissed for past mistakes despite great efforts to better themselves).

While yes, Dick did Tim dirty by replacing him without having a proper conversation first, the motivation was because he saw Tim as his equal and not Damian. He thought highly of Tim, but Tim couldn’t see that over his offense. Tim is so beat down by life that he see’s everything with negative lenses. Everyone came to check on Tim’s mental health but Tim took it as an insult instead.

And even though now Tim has reached some form of “peace” in his life, that only happens because the people he lost came back (Bruce, Conner, Bart, Cassie, etc). Tim never fully learned to handle grief, to handle his emotions, instead he represses them. Again in the Red Robin run, the main reason he doesn’t believe in any form of God is because he can’t logically justify the pain he has gone through. He is hurting and doesn’t know how to deal with that. In his original Robin run, when he tried talking someone out of committing suicide……the words and comfort he gave….that wasn’t something that was just inside Tim, this is something that was told to Tim. This is followed by him calling Dick to get the same pep-talk he just regurgitated to someone else.

In short: Tim is hurting. Deeply. And having been someone who’s emotional & mental sanity was pushed to the brink and attempted to jump off several times, I think it’s really sad that DC just ignores it. Now as someone who’s gotten the help they needed & now helps other people who struggle with the same issues as myself & Tim, I think that they’re going to say a lot of Tim’s problems come from him not being “aware” of his own sexuality, which is just sad.

In the story in question, Barbara talks about Tim not having a solid identity. People are more than their sexuality. People are capable of making future decisions for themselves without it hindering on their sexuality. If Tim was real, I would brake down his struggle as so:

Tim refuses to go to college and do something more with his life because he cannot see anything beyond his current circumstance. And the only reason why Tim cannot see anything beyond his circumstance is because he has no internal sense of purpose, identity, and acceptance beyond the cape & cowl. And when Tim finally found that in being Robin, Tim held onto it as a lifeline. There’s a reason why everyone says Tim is basically Bruce 2.0: it’s because he is Robin/Red Robin/Drake & Tim is the mask. At a young age, he did not grow up having these things instilled into him due to his parents neglecting him at a very important age in his development. Tim raised himself, and for a lack of better terms; an idiot cannot teach themselves to be smarter, an idiot becomes smarter by learning from the intelligent. A child can’t teach themselves to be an adult, they have to learn from others to grow & better themselves.

Now a parent doesn’t necessarily have to sit down and give a lesson about how to be an individual, but children learn how to live life by watching their parents. A good example of this is the rest of the Bat-Fam; they all grew up with some form of parental figures that taught them how to behave (for better or worse). Of course children have their own personalities, which is why two kids can go through the same type of trauma but come out differently, but it is a battle of nature vs nurture. Steph, Jason, Cass, & Damian grew up in abusive/unstable homes, while Dick, Barbara, & Bruce grew up in loving homes, but their personalities & character dictated how they responded to trauma. They took what life gave them and decided what to leave or take.

Tim had nothing to work with & is basically playing catch-up with the rest of his peers.

In a weird sense, Tim is like Zuko from The Last Airbender: only living to serve their father’s purpose. Anything outside of that they don’t know what to do. They’ve been trained to be something externally without been given a chance to figure out who they are internally.

Again you are not your sexuality, your sexuality does not determine who you are as a person. When a person struggles through life, it is due to the conditions of thier soul. Everything starts internally and shows it’s self externally.

I want to make that very clear because I am truly scared that in DC’s attempt to claim “clout” they are missing the bigger picture. Tim doesn’t have identity problems simply because he “doesn’t know” he likes boys, but because DC never gave him is own identity to begin with. Robin was never his own identity, Red Robin was never his, & Drake was his first attempt to make his own but he quickly gave it up so that he can be Robin once again. What is Tim going to do once Damian gets back? Is Damian going to get his own identity before Tim? Or is Tim just going to go back to one of his old identities?

I would like for Tim to personally move on from being a vigilante and rejoin civilian society for a while. Go to college, do something for himself and only for himself. Give Tim the self-discovery story, let him heal, and grown to be his own person. Besides you can never have a functional romantic relationship if you are not a functional individual. Self love > romantic love.

#red robin #batman #dc comics #tim drake #batman and robin #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #damian al ghul #damian wayne #stephanie brown #batgirl #cassandra cain #batfam #robin #I just want a good and meaningful story that doesn’t have some secret agenda #just do right by Tim #beware the pandering #not everything has to be about romance

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sanchoyo · 4 years ago

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danny phantom, season 3 episodes 3-6 thoughts!

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-johnny was actually pretty civil with danny and left when he asked! thats nice. also, SKULKER?? HAD A FRAMED PICTURE OF EMBER?? oooo fuck wait had they established they were a Thing Before?? I dont think so. thats weird. its like that country boy/goth girl meme lmfao. I think i am going to choose to ignore this new info and pretend I didnt hear it. 100% unrelated to the jazz/ember fanart I already drew and posted....😳

-LADIES NIGHT EPISODE THIS IS WHAT ITS ALL ABOUT. wish it didnt really center around the guys or them being pissed at them, but. willing to bet this was written by men lol

-THEY ERASED ALL THE MEN??? meanwhile, jack and danny are fishing at. silent hill or something. im glad jack is trying to read a parenting book and making an Attempt. (theyre at lake erie, but, they made it actually eerie...thats fun)

-the girls alt outfits...cute. EMBER MADE A NEW SONG TOO!!! kinda. jazz being one of the backup singers and being AWFUL. NOOOO

-'how are we going to get kitty to blow a kiss?' 'she'll have to think there are still some males in town!' ...i dont know how to break it to you, but I dont know that a 100% het girl would wish for all men to Begone. I think. I mean im not a het or a girl so I dont really know for sure. she Is probably Bi tho. esp having the other ladies in town chanting NO MEN!!! excitedly............(then again, the kiss is to get Rid of men, so, she probably would have blown it at the ladies only if they were actively trying to attack/stop them, so...I MEAN. THE DRESSING LIKE DANNY BIT WAS SO EXTRA)

-I feel like an all female cast ep couldve been way way way way cooler than that was. like. why was it still somehow all about Men. ...anyway. (where was valerie...)

-next ep opens with the observants, and, way way more of them than I expected...existed? I mean I guess them being a council/jury of some kind is what I expected from their first appearance (bc at that time they were basically TELLING clockwork to kill danny, not asking,, so I figured they had SOME kind of authority) but. there were so many. anyway, here goes vlad! letting his own hubris go brrrr. releasing a weather ghost for political gain! #justvladthings

-okay say what you will about him (he IS an asshole) but having an umbrella with his own face on it and more prepared to share is SUPER FUNNY. and him being fanned by huge wads of money by his bodyguards. SO ineffective but so Dramatic. He UNDERSTANDS that if youre rich you need to be. you know. obnoxious and kinda eccentric about it! fuckign hate when rich people are boring about it. I would trust vlad with nothing except to not be a boring rich asshole who wears...fucking khaki or some shit. man knows his Presentation Skills. and that 'V' chair in his mayoral office. is that fucking embroidered?

-maddie get your MAN PLEEEEASSSE. IM SO EMBARRASSED FOR HER. the way jack stays simping for this man. in FRONT OF HIS WIFE!!!! ...my god its like a love triangle. jack clearly loves vlad, who loves maddie, who loves jack. jack fenton is at the very least bi, right................. this is an OBSESSION . 'THE V MAN COMETH'???? i...my god. (also, on a serious note, to have a friend THIS SUPPORTIVE...and still be SUCH A DICK TO HIM (TRYING TO KILL HIM AND STEAL HIS WIFE??) NOT COOL VLAD. JACK IS YOUR 1 AND /ONLY/ HYPE MAN. if someone loved and supported me THIS HARD...LIKE. CMON DUDE.

-STOMP the fucking GAS, JACK

-this would make a great shirt design, looks like a metal band design! we love The Maelstrom

-oh, so vlad did in fact get a mansion in amity park. and its purple! good color choice! not as flashy as a CASTLE or MURDER CABIN, but still pretty eccentric, which I appreciate.

-...vlad knows the difference between picasso and da vinci? in the ep last post where we were watching him fail at conquering every historical time ever he didnt seem to know history well enough to like. be effective...was vlad taking art history at college?? (was he an art MAJOR??? we never DID KNOW WHAT HE WENT TO SCHOOL FOR. I kinda assumed business because in the masters of time ep he was still rich without ghost powers so he had to have..known something about business or something, right...but also, art and or theater FITS HIS PERSONALITY. possibly also something science-y, I guess, but I always felt like he got roped into that, esp how pessimistic he was about the ghost portal in the flashbacks to college, like, i felt like he was just there for maddie and was uninterested/un-invested at the time...)

-THIS GHOST JUST ELECTROCUTED MADDIE (THE CAT) BITCH!! THATS MY FAVORITE MADDIE!!! vlad going after vortex and being ~shocked~ .....WHEN. WHEN WILL YOU LEARN. THAT YOUR ACTIONS. HAVE CONSEQUENCES!!!

-the way this random man with a camera sees the mayor laying in an alley covered in TRASH AND DECIDES TO TAKE A PICTURE HAHAH

*snap* this ones going in my cringe compilation!

-vlad 'if we're going to defeat vortex, we're going to have to do it together!' *immediately dips after dropping danny off in front of vortex* JKASDFHKJHJKN

-DANNY CAN DUPLICATE!!! ...he couldnt even attack with it, but he DID IT!!! INTO (4) OF HIMSELF!!! SO PROUD!!!!!!!!!!

-'THE ROLLER COASTER EMOTIONS OF A TEENAGER THREATEN MY PLANS!' ...0 self awareness of his own dramatic moodiness. incredible, how dumb this man is. its very close to circling around to endearing, if he was less of an asshole. at least its very very funny to see danny shooting him with tiny lightning bolts anytime he's even slightly irritated! vlad you should be nice to danny anyway. this is what you GET

-...making sandwiches and ice cream and playing video games with your nephew is a totally normal thing. WHY is vlad acting like this is the end of the world. if you were a GOOD UNCLE YOU WOULD ALREADY BE DOING THESE THINGS!!! bitch I make my nephew food all the time and dont forget what he does and doesnt like. if u didnt know danny didnt want tomatoes, thats on u. if u, a grown adult, are gonna piss of the 14 yr old by not letting him win, u deserve to have to pay for the arcade machines he ruins because he now has uncontrollable storm powers because YOU THREW HIM INTO A FIGHT WITH THE STORM GHOST. fuck u vlad. paypal me $400,000 while ur at it tho. (also, gamer vlad confirmed)

-VLAD CAN COOK THOUGH???! I assumed he had...people working for him that did that. I mean. billionaires usually dont do that. then again, we've only seen those vultures working for him (and I guess the dairy king was AT his old mansion, but it was never really clarified if he worked there...I think he probably just Hung Out and they Enjoyed Cheeses Together. thats what I think, I dont think a KING would be working for anyone and also the dairy king was nice <3) but then again he would be a private person and we cant have anyone accidentally finding Ghostly Things, so...still, that's hilarious. pour one out for that really cute banana split that got ruined 2 seconds later

-vlad just fucking picking danny up and THROWING HIM AT VORTEX TWICE WITHIN LIKE A MINUTE. JUST ABSOLUTELY LAUNCHING HIM. BITCH THATS MY SON BE CAREFUL!!! HES GOT ORGANS AND THINGS!!!!

-danny seeing those animal commercials and feeling sad is the biggest 2000s throwback so far. i legitimately had to change the channel or walk out of the room when those came on bc id CRY AND BE SAD ABOUT THEM FOR DAYS AFTER. fuck those commercials and fuck that IN THE ARMMMS OF AN ANGELLLL song 😭

-'vlads ego almost got the town destroyed!' yes danny thats the entire episode. the entire series anytime vlad shows up honestly. this episode was just him being really embarrassing the entire time, and, me laughing about it. 10/10 would laugh at him again

-NEXT EP WE HAVE A SHAPESHIFTING GHOST?? I've said it before but shapeshifting is the power I would want when asked those 'what superpower do you want' questions...its the Best power! this guy looks like a homestuck character. ive never read homestuck but thats the vibe

-I love every time we see tuckers family, they are by far the most functional family. and dash has a lil chihuahua!!! named pookie!!! i am crying (I've had 3 chihuahuas, so I am very biased, but...) AND HE WATCHES THE ROMANCE CHANNEL WITH POOKIE. POOKIE I WILL DIE FOR YOU YOU SWEET LITTLE BABY.

-danny can lift a bus! I shouldn't be surprised, but i am proud of my son. hes got lil kid fans. i am going to cry about this

-JAZZ KEEPS A SCRAPBOOK WITH DANNY'S LIL HEROICS AND NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS!!! we've actually seen it on her floor before, but I didnt realize it was a scrapbook!! thats sooo cute.

-...and danny has to stand there listening to his parents saying danny phantom sucks and is a 'filthy ghost' and calling him egotistical...i am once again stealing their kids!

-THIS GHOST RIPPING JAZZ'S SCRAPBOOK!!! ILL KILL YOU. SHE WORKED HARD ON THAT!!! BITCH

-yes, maddie, the one with red eyes is For Sure Actually Your Son. ignore the, red eyes... (CLEARLY she hasnt watched the other 2 eps where danny has been evil, she doesnt know red eyes= evil!!!)

-'billy fenton'.......................

-danny being stuck as phantom in his own house, no way out is a fucking NIGHTMARE. his parents pointing giant weapons against him and SHOOTING AT HIM. THIS IS A HORROR MOVIE.

-NINE INCH NAILS POSTER.

-this is the most screenshot of all time

-amorpho turning into mr. lancer because hes 'someone no one will want to be around' BUT HES WRONG, I WOULD BEFRIEND AND HANG OUT WITH MR LANCER SO FAST.

-tucker dressing as danny, now I have the full Tucker set of him being sam and also being danny. also saying 'the ghost...uh...RIPPED MY FACE OFF.' and then running. SMOOTH. NOT AT ALL CONCERNING TO ANY PARENTS.

-sam accepts the toast from jack. and then 2 seconds later is like 'why am i eating this.' THIS SHOWS HUMOR IS SO UNEXPECTED SOMETIMES ITS REALLY GOOD. and then the scene after, mr lancer running into his ghost doppelganger and being like 'YOURE GORGOUS' THEN FAINTING. I AM CRYING. AND DASH FAINTING TOO.

-sam disguising herself as danny again to help tucker run from the fentons. but leaving him shirtless in the streets. incredible. 'plEASE DOnt NOTice MY FACELessNESS I MUST LIVE IN EXILE' this episode is destroying me the humor in this show is exactly my brand of corny and cheesy

-the impromtu story made up by danny and amorpho to explain stuff to the fentons. my god they are both such bad liars. but amorpho is a good egg. wish danny wouldnt have said he didnt wanna see him in town again!! I want him to be reoccurring. not that thats gonna matter since I'm almost done with the series, but the idea of this being the Only Time We See him is :(

-NEXT EP SAYS STARRING MARK HAMILL??????!!! hello ! mr . joker....mr. star wars.... I feel like I should be. idk. taking off a hat im not wearing in respect. I shouldnt be surprised tho bc hes in a lot of cartoons as a very good voice actor, and dp has already had a lot of talented ones so I've been looking out for ones I might know, but....mr. hamill....

-sam has her own greenhouse, names all the plants, and says thank you to them (in the languages from where the plants are from) whenever she harvests from them. thats SO cute. and her lil gothy lunch box...

-and danny's lil red fuzzy lined jacket!!! ive said it before but every time the characters get alt outfits im like :D

-danny has ice powers now!!! THATS WHAT FROSTBITE MEANT. HE KNEW SOMEHOW WAY BACK THEN

-THIS SHOW NEVER LETS YOU FORGET VLAD IS A BILLIONAIRE, HUH.

-danny's lil 'holy hibiscus!' first off the 50s batman swearing is hilarious. 2nd. my username is from the flower sanchoyo hibiscus, so, shoutout to ME this ep. hi :)

-EURGH UNDERGROWTH MAKING EVERYONE PLANT ZOMBIES. HIVEMIND PLOTS SCARE THE SHIT OUT OF ME. and this dude made the city SO overtaken so quickly like how long was danny asleep?? oh god

-evil fucked up sam! now the whole trio has gone evil at some point! the voice actress did a really, really good job with making her sound like a zombie...

-frostbite's paws are so so so big compared to danny. oh my god. i want to hug the snow dog...

-the far frozen has an advanced medical stuff!!! very cool. very smart snow dogs

-im so glad danny has a friendly ghost snow dad to explain this new power and teach him!!! this is so sweet. DANNY'S GHOST SENSE WAS A PART OF HIS ICE POWER?? OOOH. COOL. we love a training montage!!!

-danny saying if he cant defeat overgrowth, that he'd want to stay with frostbite...oh my god...do you think this is the first real supportive adult figure in his life (I am NOT counting his parents because they threaten him on the daily even if they dont realize it.) I mean mr lancer is a Teacher, but he was also nice but this is different, but this is a GHOST WHO IS WILLING TO HELP HIM with his powers and also will help him when hes injured and is so so nice and comparatively so much more mature than 90% of the adults in this show!!!! god. dad frostbite is my everything.

-the framing and lighting this episode, and all the angles...they went all OUT and it looks really really good. this is my nightmare scenario, tho. like, FUCK zombies and dead city zones and hivemind shit. and using the humans as 'nutrients for the children' i am going to THROW UP.

-MALEFICENT VIBES WITH THE HORNS AND GREEN EYES! this costume kicks so much ass. sam is now mark hamills daughter, I guess.

-danny's ice powers making his eyes blue!!! thats neat. and him going for the roots underground was SO SMART. i will not stand for danny ever thinking hes stupid, hes SO smart.

almost done with the show... :"( thats a sad thought!!!

#sanchoyorambles #dp thoughts #danny phantom

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sibyl-of-space · 3 years ago

Audio

I had a small self-directed project for school this week that involved experimenting with/learning to use a TASCAM MF-P01 tape recorder I got on eBay. I spent most of the time experimenting with getting healthy levels, understanding signal flow, and learning the process of running the signal through external modules etc., so the above is a digitized recording of what is effectively me dicking around like a mad scientist trying to figure out how it works. Channel 4 is channels 1-3 run through a reverb unit, recorded into a DAW, and then re-recorded onto the tape... but here’s the kicker: the reverb unit thought the unbalanced stereo output was a balanced mono signal, so the center panned voices just totally disappeared.

It was so much fun to play with and I learned so much.

(Note for any hipsters in the market for a TASCAM MF-P01: when it arrived - and the seller had made this clear in advance - the recording function worked but the playback was busted. Luckily this is a well-documented problem, very common, and my first ever soldering repair project was replacing 4 capacitors on the board, as outlined here. That did the trick!)

“Mine also would not play back on any of the channels but would record. The problem was on the lower board, capacitors C105, C205, C305 and C405, all are 220uF, rated at 10V - on a 9V machine! All four went leaky, which meant that the op-amps each were connected to got a bias which drove the output to 8.5V and no output. I replaced all four capacitors with new ones rated at 25V and it works again!”

Also, its only input is a TS/TRS 1/4″ jack, and mic-level signals need to be boosted slightly for it to be able to record them well. And you’ll need something that can supply phantom power if you want to use a condenser. For this project I was just experimenting with equipment on campus including a fancy console patch bay, but I think in the future I’ll just use my audio interface as it should do the job and is much more portable.

ANYWAY; experimentation is fun.

(Not Pictured: the other 4 methods of digitizing this that I also did for comparison...)

#my audio shit #tascam 4-track #cassette tape recorder #analog audio

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someguynamedstevewrites · 5 years ago

Text

My Roommate is an Apparition: Saturday Morning Cartoon Complaints

Based on characters created by @reddpenn

————————————-

There once was a lonely apparition that haunted an apartment in an old building. No one knew where it came from, how it came to be, or why it was there. In fact, nobody knew the spooky specter actually existed since nobody could see it. Eventually, the apparition met someone who could see them, and they were no longer lonely. But before that, there were a few instances where the incorporeal creature made contact with human beings.

This is one of those stories.

It was September 20th, 1997, and Terrence “Terry” Vanderbrook was working as an operator for a local CBS Network Affiliate. He spent his days making sure that people calling into the station were directed to where they needed to go, and also screening out any unwanted calls. Regardless if they were folks calling in to speak to the news team about breaking news, people wanting to partner with the station for a special event, or for any other reason, Terry took care of them all.

One call, in specific, would go down as one Terry would remember for the rest of his years. (Mostly because he wasn’t sure if it actually happened or not).

“Thank you for calling your local CBS station, W.O.-“ Terry began to say before being cut off.

“Where...?” came a voice that sounded like breath on the wind.

“I’m sorry?” Terry asked.

“Where... are they...?” the raspy voice asked.

In the couple of years Terry had been a phone operator, he received more than his fair share of crank calls. Some were very obvious from the get go, while others were subtle and not quite as apparent. On occasion, a call might start off sounding like a prank, but actually turn out to be a legitimate call. Terry learned that the hard way after being berated by a 76- year old woman who was calling to complain about a breaking news report interrupting Diagnosis: Murder. On that day, Terry learned never to underestimate the appeal of Dick Van Dyke to seniors.

Still, uncertain if this was a prank or not, Terry did exactly what he was trained to do: proceed in a professional and courteous manner while trying to obtain more information to determine the needs of the caller. (At least until he was sure whether this call was genuine or not.)

“What can I help you find today?” Terry responded with a smile in his voice (as outlined in the Employee Handbook for Telephone Operators, page 12).

The raspy voice spoke a little louder to get its point across, “Car... TOONS!!!”

“Cartoons?”

“Where. Are. The. Car. Tooooons!?” the voice demanded.

Terry looked over at the small calendar on his desk. It was Saturday. “Oh! You mean the Saturday Morning Cartoons?”

“Yesssssss...” the voice said with a hiss.

“Give me one second,” Terry said as he began to type away at the keyboard to his Windows 95 work computer. Connecting to the network’s server, Terry began searching for and pulling up the schedule for the day’s channel listings. A memo had circulated around the office not too long ago about changes to the channel lineup this fall, but Terry hadn’t paid too much attention to it. He still hadn’t gotten the hang of the search function for his e-mail just yet.

“I’m... waaaaaaaaaiiiii... tiiiiiiiiinnnnngggg,” the voice said as nasally and obnoxious as possible.

“Hang on, kid, I almost got it,” Terry shot back. At this point, he figured the caller was some kid, probably sick in bed (which would explain the raspy voice), hoping to watch their Saturday Morning Cartoons and having trouble with it. (Terry was way off the mark, but he didn’t know that).

While the inter-network speeds within the CBS station’s computer network were much faster than the new 56 Kbps speeds Terry got on his dial-up modem back home, it still took a while to get to the shared network folder that contained the spreadsheet containing the day’s programming lineup. With a double-click, Terry opened up Excel 95 and saw...

“Oh...”

Terry bit his lip and breathed in through his teeth. He always hated calls like this; calls where he had to be the unfortunate bearer of bad news. The person on the other end of the line NEVER took it well. It would lead to lots of yelling, screaming, and demands to speak to his manager. And that was when Terry was speaking to full grown adults, so he was rightfully concerned about the kind of tantrum a sick child could produce.

“I’m sorry,” Terry said with regret, “but it looks like the CBS Kidz programming block has been replaced with CBS News Saturday Morning and a rerun of The Andy Griffith Show.”

————————————-

Due to the nature of the apparition’s existence, it was debatable whether or not it was actually “alive”. Considering the facts, it had been “born” a few years ago and hadn’t “lived” for very long by the time it made this phone call. Furthermore, during the time in between, it experienced emotions such as happiness, sadness, inquisitiveness, and many more.

But this was the first time the apparition became truly angry!

The apparition was frowning. It’s worth mentioning this, because before now, the apparition had never, ever frowned. Its face was no longer smiling, or expressionless like a confused child, like it had been for every day since the apparition began its existence. It was consciously moving the non-existent muscles on its face to move downward to express just how angry it was. Its sharp teeth were on full display like a snarling beast. To say it was not a pretty sight would have been an understatement.

The ethereal hand that had been twirling the coils of the telephone cord was now clutching the phone book as tightly as it could. Visions of cartoon characters expressing their anger whirled through the apparition’s head as it began to conjugate steam out of its non-existent ears. The apparition could not find the words to express the outrage it felt, so it did something else to vent its frustration.

It made a wooden chair suddenly fly through the air at one-hundred and twenty miles per hour into a wall.

*CRASH*

————————————-

The sound of wood smashing and splintering could be heard over the phone, and nearly made Terry jump out of his chair.

“WHOA! Kid, are you okay!?” Terry asked with genuine concern.

“BAAAAACK!!!” the apparition practically screamed. Its voice had distorted and sounded sinister; carrying a demonic reverb.

“...BRING! THEM! BAAAAAACK!!!”

“Poor kid,” Terry thought to himself, “they are definitely not taking this well.”

If it had been anyone else other than Terry taking that call, the horrific voice over the phone likely would have scared them out of their pants by now. But he was a veteran at handling the phone and this was not the first time someone used a voice distorter on a call. It was the first time a kid had used one (as far as he knew), but Terry had seen the toy commercials for “YakBak” on TV and knew that any kid with one could do funny things to their voice.

“Listen,” Terry said calmly, “I understand you’re disappointed, but that’s no reason to break things and throw a fit. You might hurt yourself or make yourself even sicker.”

————————————-

The frown had vanished from the apparition’s face. In its place was a look of sheer confusion. This was definitely not the reaction the apparition was expecting when they made this phone call.

The last time the apparition used its scary voice was back when the previous apartment tenants were talking about getting rid of their TV. To keep that from happening, the apparition practiced hard on finding the best voice it could mimic that would “persuade” the residents living there at the time to keep it. It even figured out how it could project its voice into any electronic device with a speaker to create an even more haunting effect (and to make sure the people there could actually hear its demands).

It worked, but it worked a little too well.

Shortly after the apparition began to actively haunt its oblivious roommates, the tenants packed up and moved out in a hurry, leaving their furniture and appliances behind. This included the 32” CRT TV that the apparition was fond of, and a landline telephone. The apparition didn’t care much for the phone line since they were happy just having the TV all to themselves twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. (Plus, they didn’t have anyone to call or talk on the phone to, anyway.)

At least they were happy until about a week ago, when the Saturday Morning Cartoons were a complete no show for the first time in years.

But the apparition had seen shows come and go, television programming blocks change for no apparent reason, occasional weather alert bulletins interrupting their cartoons, and some of their favorite cartoons canceled. They learned patience, understanding, and compromise from these experiences. Just because there were no cartoons that week didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be cartoons next week.

Two weeks without cartoons, however, simply would not do.

The apparition scoured the apartment for a phone book, concentrated on solidifying its fingertips to turn pages, located the phone number for the TV station, and dialed. It took a lot of effort for a ghostly being to make a phone call, and it was not about to let its efforts go to waste.

If the scary voice didn’t work, they’d have to take a different approach. It was time for Plan B.

————————————-

“...Sorry,” the apparition apologized, “...please... bring them... back?”

Terry sighed. He had kids of his own, and dealing with them could be a real challenge; especially when he couldn’t give them something they wanted. Once they realized throwing a tantrum fit wouldn’t work, they start trying to “bargain” just like the kid (who wasn’t actually a kid) that was on the phone.

“I’m sorry, kiddo, but it’s out of my hands,” Terry said using his “sympathetic Dad” voice, “I know it stinks, and if I could bring them back, I absolutely would.” After some frantic scrolling through his work e-mail inbox, he finally found the e-mail he was looking for. “But, thing is, we got to follow the rules from the FCC, so-“

“Eff... See... See?” the voice interrupted to ask.

“The Federal Communications Commission,” Terry explained, “You might not have learned about them in school yet, but they’re a part of the government. They make the rules we here at the TV stations got to follow, and one of those rules is to show three hours of educational programming, and the cartoons we had, well...” Terry tried to find a way to let the (not) kid down nicely, “...they just weren’t educational enough. That make sense?”

————————————-

It did not make sense. The Apparition had no idea what the heck the person on the other end of the phone line was talking about. All it knew was that they took away their cartoons and they weren’t going to give them back.

Taking a look at its transparent fingers, the apparition decided it was time to take matters into its own hands. They had tried scaring the person on the other end of the phone and they had tried asking nicely, but now it was time for plan C.

The apparition plunged its fingers into the tiny holes of the phone receiver. The phone was eventually engulfed in the apparition’s being and soon after that, the receiver began to slowly suck the apparition into it.

If someone walked into the room at that moment, and if that person could also see the apparition, they would see the lower half of a person’s body up to about their waist with the upper half crammed into a phone. It looked like a cartoon where someone had taken the receiver of a phone and hit someone over the head with it so hard that it jammed them inside.

Meanwhile, inside the phone, the apparition’s upper body stretched as it squeezed its way through the telephone cables. It wasn’t easy, and the apparition had never tried anything like this before, but it was filled with determination. Following the voice of the person on the other end of the phone, the apparition could feel itself getting closer and closer to its destination.

It smiled a sharp, toothy grin and created sharp claws on its hands in preparation for its arrival. Soon it would wreak havoc against those who had wronged it. They would rue the day they had taken away their source of Saturday Morning joy! It could see a light ahead of itself, and once it finally reached it, the apparition took its mangled, clawed hand and...

————————————-

*scritch*

“Ow,” Terry said as he pulled the phone away from his head. Something had just scratched him. Looking at the phone receiver, Terry blinked and then blinked again as he came to comprehend what he was looking at.

It was a very small, tiny hand with what looked like long fingernails poking out from one of the holes on the receiver. It flailed and strained as if it was trying to reach out but couldn’t get itself through. The closest thing Terry could liken it to was if a mouse or hamster had somehow gotten into the phone and was sticking its paw through the holes on the phone.

It was kind of adorable.

After a few seconds, the hand retracted into the phone. A second after that, Terry could have swore that he saw a tiny head poke out of one of the holes on the receiver. It had long hair, large eyes, no nose, and looked rather irritated. It struggled as it tried to pull itself out of the phone, but it just couldn’t budge.

Terry was quite sure he was seeing things. He wasn’t sure if it was because of something he ate, or from not getting enough sleep. The thought never entered his head that he was looking at a supernatural being that had shrunken its upper torso, shoved and stretched itself through the phone line, and was now trying to crawl its way out the other end. That would have been silly.

After a few more seconds of struggling, the apparition seemed to realize that this was not going to work and silently admitted defeat to itself. It looked up at the (relatively) gigantic face of Terry who was casually looking at the apparition without an ounce of fear, shock, or horror showing on his face. Without really thinking, Terry just looked at the tiny head poking out and just shrugged as though saying, “Sorry, can’t help yah there, bud”.

Dejectedly, the apparition pulled its head back inside the phone as Terry absentmindedly waved goodbye to it.

————————————-

Back in the apartment, the apparition pulled itself out from the phone and sighed. It held the phone up to its earless head to hear what the man on the other end had to say.

“So, uh...” the man said before a hesitant pause, “...I know this is going to sound crazy, but...” another pause as the man on the other end tried to put what just happened into words, “...did you just try and travel through the phones so you could claw at me?”

The apparition looked to the left, then looked to the right, and if it was capable of it, it would have broken out in a nervous sweat. Sheepishly, the apparition responded, “...yes,” with the same tone of voice a child would use if they had been caught eating cookies before dinner.

A slight pause before the man followed back with, “...didn’t really work out for you, did it?”

Again, sounding like a child that knew they were totally busted, the apparition responded, “...nooooo...”

There was another pause on the phone before the man on the other end eventually said, “Well... better luck next time.”

This call was starting to get extremely awkward as the apparition had no idea what was going to happen next.

After about a minute of silence (which is considered taboo among telephone operators) the man on the other end finally asked, “Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

This was a battle the apparition had thoroughly lost, and it knew it. It was time to throw in the towel. With a depressed sigh, it responded back, “No... thank you”.

————————————-

Despite not being sure what exactly he just saw, Terry leaned forward in his chair and decided the very least he could do was offer some encouraging words. “I know you’re disappointed, and I get that. I really do. But other TV channels have cartoons too. You can always watch them there.”

“...yeah...” the voice responded.

“It’s not like all the cartoons in the world just suddenly vanished, right?”

“...I suppose...”

Terry was ready to wrap this call up and had his closing spiel all set to go. “We appreciate you caring enough to call in today and while I may not have been able to help you, I do hope you feel better soon. Okay?”

There was a moment of silence before the voice responded back, “...okay...”

“Thank you very much for calling CBS, and have a good rest of your day,” Terry said earnestly.

There was a click signaling the phone on the other end had disconnected. Terry hung up the phone on his end, leaned back in his office chair, and looked up to the ceiling.

At that exact same moment, the person they had been talking to just a minute ago thought the exact same thing as he did.

“Well... that was weird.”

#my roommate is an apparition

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caleb-wigodast · 4 years ago

Text

The Cloak of Disguise and its Many Uses

Doriax (Dorian/Dariax) 18+

[This fic takes place after episode 3 of Exandria Unlimited]

Summmary: The Cloak of Disguise can physically alter the wearer's appearance as far as their race, height, and biological sex. Upon learning this, Dorian has something to ask of Dariax, and Dariax is more than happy to indulge his boyfriend.

A/N: Hi I don't care if this isn't how the cloak of disguise works, i didn't look it up, ANYWAY i got this idea and spent the whole day writing it and whoops! it's a love confession fic now. I love somft, lovely smut so I write it. Enjoy!

Read it on AO3!

It had been a long day, they’d headed into Emon, avoided detection with a distraction that soon became Dariax’s debut drag performance, had a long meeting with Gilmore about goods and evils, and were nearly killed as they were hunted on their way out of town. But they were finally able to rest now, finding a clearing in a nearby woods and setting up a campfire.

The rest of their lot was asleep by the fire as Dorian and Dariax took watch, sitting on the edge of Gilmore’s cart and looking up at the stars as they held hands. A breeze blew by that made Dorian shiver, and Dariax reached back to put his cloak over Dorian.

Dorian smiled, “Thank you, Darling,” he pulled the cloak tighter around his shoulders. Dariax watched Dorian consider it for a moment before asking, “How,, does this work, exactly?”

“The cloak? I just swirl it around, think of what I wanna look like, and it does it,” Dariax replied easily.

Dorian nodded, “…How much of you does it actually alter?”

Dariax shrugged, “As much of me as I want it to.”

Dorian thought for a moment, “Earlier when you were Tharla-“ Dariax grinned at that, “your outfit was rather revealing, so it showed much of your body-“

“Don’t think I didn’t catch a certain air genasi gettin’ a good look at me,” Dariax spoke with vocal fry, “I could tell even with all my twirling that you couldn’t take your eyes off me, could you?”

Dorian rolled his eyes with a slight smile, “The sight was wonderful but the voice was horrible,” he cringed as Dariax laughed, “Regardless, one thing I noticed during your performance was that, certain aspects of your body were,, rather different.”

“Yeah, I can change my appearance as far as like, what race, what height, what sex… and it all interacts with the world around like the clothes do, It’s pretty cool!”

Dorian nods, “I see, does- when it interacts with the world.. how,, much do you feel?”

Dariax gave him a look of confusion, “Pretty much everything, why do you ask?”

Dorian swallowed, “You mentioned it can change your biological sex… would that mean?”

“Yeah, I had a vagina,” Dorian eyes went wide at that, blushing and staring intently at the ground, “When I transform into a woman- or, someone who I assume has a vagina, I change everything down there just so no one gets suspicious or whatever. But it functions and all! I’ve had a few dicks in there before.”

Dorian chokes out, “At the same time???”

Dariax thinks for a moment, counting on his fingers and mumbling half-forgotten names to himself, “I’ve had two at once maybe like, 4 times. I’ve met some people that had two dicks. One of them had three dicks but I just couldn’t take the third in the front, so I had that one in my ass instead.”

Dorian’s face was a deep blue, but he shook off his blush and asked, “How much changes anatomically? There’s no risk of…” he trailed off before Dariax gave him a confused look “like, getting pregnant or anything?”

Dariax made a sour face, “Nah, I mean, I know magic like that is possible but that’s like, Super high level. I’m still a dude with a penis at the end of the day, so things don’t change completely. Like, if someone had a fever and I transformed into them, I wouldn’t get their fever. Ya’know?”

Dorian nodded, “Right, that makes sense… um, would you… be interested in,, trying something with me? Sexually, that is?”

That got Dariax’s attention, he leaned in, “What kinda thing sexually?”

“Um, well, I like vaginas as well as penises, and- I love your dick! Don’t get me wrong, it’s wonderful!-“

“Oh I know,” Dariax gave a dopey grin.

“-But,, well, variety is the spice of life as they say-“

“I thought that was Suude?”

“No, Dariax, that’s drugs.”

“Oh, well anyway, I think I get what you mean,” Dariax leaned close to Dorian’s ear before sensually whispering with vocal fry, “would you like Tharla Starr to give you a private performance?”

Dorian playfully shoved Dariax away, who laughed before moving back to his snuggling position.

“I was actually hoping the illusion could be a bit closer to you, if possible,” Dorian admitted.

“Really?” Dariax was touched, he’d seen so many fall for Tharla, he only got as much attention as he did because he was her, so to know that Dorian still wanted him made him feel so treasured.

“Of course, Tharla was beautiful, but the reason I found her as attractive as I did was because I knew it was you underneath all that.”

Dariax blushed, “D’awww,” he moved to give Dorian a sweet kiss, “you’re sweet, and I’d be more than happy to transform and alter some things for you, if you’d like,” he grinned.

“But, do you feel anything when you transform? Does it feel good?” Dorian seemed hesitant.

“Oh yeah” Dariax moaned, his mind supplying a million memories at once, “I’ve been fucked a few times like that. It feels,, Absolutely incredible. And I’d love to try it with you if you’d like,” he walked his fingers along Dorian’s thighs, making Dorian shiver.

“I would love to Dariax,” was all he was able to reply.

“Great,” he looked around, “wanna do it while the others are still asleep or?”

Dorian huffed out a laugh, “As much as I’d love to right now, I don’t think we could get away with it, I know how loud you moan.”

“I only moan that loud cause you feel so good, and my moans are nothing compared to how I make you scream,” Dariax teased, tracing patterns with his finger’s in Dorian’s thigh.

Dorian blushed, mumbling “Well I only scream that loud cause you feel so good…”

“Aww,” Dariax pressed a kiss to Dorian’s cheek, “Well, we got the cart if you wanna do anything.”

Dorian looked at him, then to the group, then to the cart, gesturing with his eyes to point out the small distance, “I thought we just went over this, they would Absolutely hear us in the cart, Dariax,” he gave an amused smile nonetheless.

“It’s soundproof though-“

“What?”

“Earlier when we were trying to talk to the others outside, it was Real hard to hear them. I’m pretty sure its magically enchanted or something.”

From what little they knew of Gilmore, that seemed to track for the kind of man he was. But Dorian still seemed hesitant, “Are you sure?”

Dariax, “Oh for sure, I would love to have you inside me in a new way!”

Dorian blushed, “Alright then, as long as you’ll enjoy it as much as I will.”

Dariax nodded, “Believe me, I will… you want me to add the boobs too?”

Dorian didn’t make eye contact with Dariax, but nodded, staring firmly at the ground.

Dariax grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek before standing and transforming into… himself. For a moment it looked like it hadn’t worked before Dariax felt his breasts sagging his shirt down. He looked up at Dorian to see him staring and swallowing thickly.

Dorian smiled, squeezing his boobs a bit and giggling, “they’re nice and squishy,” he moved to sit on a flustered Dorian’s lap and hang his arms around his neck as Dorian’s arms secured around his waist.

Dariax leaned close to Dorian’s ear and whispered (with vocal fry again) “I can’t wait to have you inside me~” punctuating the sentence with an exaggerated moan.

Dorian took the opportunity of Dariax’s underarms being exposed to tickle him. He moved his elbows down and giggled as Dorian smiled fondly and teased him, keeping one arm firm around his waist, making sure he didn’t fall off his lap and onto the ground in their game.

They heard someone stirring and stopped, watching to see Opal turn over in her sleep.

“…we should probably get into the cart before continuing any further,” Dorian suggested.

“Yeah, probably a good idea.”

Dariax moved to secure the opening of the fabric hood over the cart as Dorian moved further in. Though most carts at Gilmore’s were used for transport of magical goods, this one seemed to be for luxurious travel. The inside was ornately decorated with plush rugs and comfortable throw pillows, all decorated in a variety of golds and purples. They weren’t particularly comfortable, but they were firm, and it allowed Dorian to sit up comfortably as Dariax moved to sit on his lap again.

Dariax smiled deviously down at Dorian as he rolled his hips against the bulge in his pants and Dorian moaned. He moved to nose and mouth at Dariax’s boobs through the layer of fabric before he took the ties keeping the shirt up between his teeth and tugged slowly, Dariax felt his breath hitch in his chest as Dorian looked at him with desire as his boobs jiggled free of their constraints.

Dorian took a moment to caress Dariax’s chest, running his hands over the soft, smooth skin- still hairy, he was a dwarf after all- and he held and squeezed and felt the weight of them in his hands. Dariax hadn’t made them comically large, they were proportionate to the rest of his body, a bit on the larger side, but proportionate. They were big enough for Dorian to grip and squeeze and oh- now he was sucking on his nipple... Oh this felt really good.

Dariax moaned out and rolled his hips against Dorian’s again, making the boob not in Dorian’s mouth bounce as he moved. Dorian groaned out at that and brought his hand up to begin pinching and squeezing at his nipples Dariax let out a whine and squeezed Dorian’s hips with his thighs, he moved his hands to rest on his shoulders to keep him steady as Dorian teased both nipples with his fingers, now moving to leave love bites and hickies all over the expanse of Dariax’s chest. Who knows if they’d stay there tomorrow, if Dariax had a say- he’d make them stay there forever.

Dorian continued leaving marks and bites over Dariax’s chest until he sucked particularly hard on one of Dariax’s nipples and caused Dariax to nearly double over in pleasure. This brought his boobs to press against Dorian’s face before he felt warmth spread against the spot he’d been grinding on- only it wasn’t from him.

“Babe,, did you just come from my boobs being squished in your face?” He tried to hold back the amusement in his voice.

“They’re really nice, okay!” was the only reply he got as Dorian hid his face in them.

Dariax laughed at that, moving to cup Dorian’s face to bring him in for a kiss, “I’ll have to bring them out more often then,, do you wanna keep going or-?”

“I think I’ll need a bit to recover, but you haven’t come yet, no?”

Dariax shook his head, “Nah.”

“Well, that’s simply a crime!” Dorian declared, He moved to grip Dariax’s ass and hold him against his chest as he kissed him and flipped them so Dariax was sprawled out against the plush carpets of the cart.

Dariax caught his breath as Dorian tossed off his shirt, “Well that’s a crime we really don’t wanna commit, now do we?”

Dorian chuckled, “we certainly don’t, I’d much rather eat you out so I can fuck you properly later,” he smirked.

Dariax arched an eyebrow as he tossed his own shirt aside, “I think you mean so I can ride you later,” he teased.

Dorian rolled his eyes fondly, “Regardless, may I eat you out, or no?”

Dariax chuckled, “Absolutely,” he gestured towards his crotch, “dinner is served, eat up!”

Dorian cringed at the words, making Dariax laugh again before he moved to pull his pants down slowly. Dariax saw Dorian’s eyes go wide as he gasped, finally getting to see what sat between his legs. Dorian licked his lips hungrily and looked up at Dariax with desire.

“Alright now, don’t come twice already,” Dariax teased.

“You’re joking but-“ Dorian responded before forgetting his sentence, moving down in awe to lick a stripe between Dariax’s folds. He shivered in response. It was barely any stimulation yet, but it felt so good. He was wet already, providing great lubrication for Dorian’s tongue as he licked up the salty substance and buried his nose in Dariax’s curls, searching around with his tongue.

Dariax gasped and bit down on his lip, letting out a moan as Dorian found his clit and began sucking softly, “Fuuuuuuck, that feels really really good please do more of that, yeah.”

Dorian hummed against Dariax and he bit back a whine at how good it felt, Dorian moved lower on Dariax but quickly replaced his tongue with his thumb on Dariax’s clit. Dorian moved to stick his tongue deep inside Dariax, moaning out into the wet heat of the dwarf. Dariax let out a soft whisper of Dorian’s name as he felt himself being explored by the gentle ministrations of his lover’s tongue.

He felt Dorian fuck his tongue in and out of Dariax as he frantically moved his hands down to grip on Dorian’s hair. Dariax felt himself puff up slightly against Dorian’s face and he felt like he was on pins and needles in the best way possible. Dorian removed his tongue and Dariax was about to complain before he moved to suck on Dariax’s clit again, and oh Changebringer, that felt good. Dariax curled his toes as came with a soft whimper of “fuck!”

He saw stars, and when he came back down he could feel Dorian cleaning up what had spilled out with his tongue, sucking on his folds gently before Dariax used the hand still in Dorian’s hair to tug him up for a deep kiss. Dorian returned the kiss gladly as Dariax wrapped his legs around Dorian’s waist, pulling him down even further.

Dariax made a scrunched up face, “I’m cold,” he frowned.

Dorian chuckled, “me too,”

Dorian moved to sit up against the mountain of pillows and Dariax followed, grabbing a blanket and tossing it over them both before snuggling up to Dorian’s chest, “fuck me- that felt incredible!” he sighed.

Dorian chuckled, “In a bit when I can get it up again, darling.”

Dariax snickered, “Well I’m excited for that but- man,, I don’t know why I’ve never tried that before.. that was great!”

Dorian looked at him, “You’ve never been eaten out before?”

“Not like that nah, I’ve had my ass eaten a few times, but not my vagina.”

Dorian looked at Dariax in amazement, “Have I been your first for something? You, Dariax, the ever-experienced in the world of sexuality?” he was half joking, Dariax could tell he was proud to be Dariax’s first experience with something knew.

“Well, you’re not just my first for that,” Dariax chuckled.

“Oh?” Dorian raised an eyebrow.

Dariax fiddled with his fingers, “You’re my first love…” he felt Dorian still beside him, “I love you, Dorian.”

“I- I love you too, Dariax, so much,” Dorian’s hands moved to cup Dariax’s face and bring him close for a sweet kiss. Dariax kissed back and wrapped his arms around Dorian’s neck, he tilted his head to deepen the kiss as he moved to sit on Dorian’s lap.

Dorian wrapped his arms around Dariax’s back and held him close as he kissed him sweetly and tenderly, running a hand through his hair to tilt them to a better angle. Dariax moaned out into the kiss, but as he felt tears on Dorian’s face, he pulled away slowly, “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked softly.

Dorian sniffled, “I’m just- I love you so much Dariax, I’m happy to have the feeling returned,” he pulled Dariax in for another kiss he poured all his love into, and Dariax did the same. For a moment they weren’t worried about what would come next, they weren’t worried about Dariax’s transformation fading before they could be intimate again, as long as they were there, holding each other in their arms and knowing they were loved, they would be content forever.

Their sweet loving kiss eventually turned desperate and feverish as hands roamed and gripped flesh as their mouths travelled to leave love marks on their necks and chins and shoulders. By the time they were panting desperately, taking a breath against each other’s lips, Dorian was fully hard again, he looked at Dariax with lustful eyes, “Dariax, do you-?”

Before Dorian could finish his sentence, Dariax nodded and lined himself up with Dorian before sinking down, moaning out as he was filled. Dorian panted, hiding his face in the crook of Dariax’s shoulder and neck, sucking a mark there as Dariax began slowly moving up and down on Dorian’s cock.

Dariax was decently endowed naturally, and since he didn’t have a gag reflex, he usually didn’t think about Dorian’s size when sucking him off. Though Dariax usually topped, he’d ridden Dorian before, though certainly not like this. He hadn’t realized the air genasi was so big he wasn’t as thick as Dariax was, but he was long, and right now as Dariax rolled his hips against Dorian, it was hitting all the best places.

“Mmmm, fuck yes. Feels so good,” he moaned out as Dorian whimpered and moved to suck on Dariax’s breasts further. Dariax gently pushed on Dorian’s shoulders and he looked up, making sure all was ok.

“I love when you suck on my tits, but right now I think you’ll enjoy things more if you just sit back on that cute little butt of yours and watch, yeah?” Dariax purred.

Dorian flushed and nodded, “mhm, absolutely.”

Dorian might have requested Dariax instead of Tharla, but Dariax was gonna give him a good show either way.

Dariax stretched his arms behind his head, putting his breasts on a prominent display as he rolled his hips against Dorian’s, noticing the way Dorian fisted his hands in the blankets below, trying not to touch, and Dariax smirked at that.

He rose his thighs to pull himself off before sinking down again and moaning out, he did this a few more times in rapid succession, moving so the head of Dorian’s cock rubbed against his G spot wonderfully. Dariax moaned out as his eyes rolled back in pleasure, he gripped his hands on Dorian’s shoulders as he continued his rapid pace, moving up and down and angling so he was hitting the spot more forcefully as he made a desperate noise and bit his lip.

Dorian was singing beautiful moans beneath him, “Fuck, Darling,, you look so beautiful,, I love seeing you like this, enjoying yourself and feeling good. Watching you chase your own pleasure is the loveliest sight in all of Exandria.” He bit his lip, still fighting to keep his hands off Dariax.

Dariax blushed at that, “Y-you’re so pretty, Dorian, I love when you turn blue and bite your lip like that, it’s really sexy…” Dariax wasn’t as good with words as Dorian was, but he trusted understood the sentiment regardless.

Dariax went back to rolling his hips against Dorian, “Fuck, babe, you can move now, I need you to use your hips some-“

Dorian quickly obliged, moving to take Dariax’s nipple into his mouth and grip his other breast as he brought his knees up to buck up into Dariax. Dariax moaned out at the change in angle, feeling Dorian’s hips slam into him and hit that spot over and over again. His mouth hung open with silent gasps as he felt his brain rocketing to the moon.

Dorian moved a hand down to grip his ass tightly and that’s what sent him over the edge, he shouted, “DORIAN!” as he came and clenched around his length. Dorian whimpered into Dariax’s chest as he came, filling Dariax even further and making him slump forward against Dorian’s face, smothering him in his boobs yet again.

They heard the fabric of the cart entrance being opened as a very grumpy halfling stomped into the room, “What on Exandria are you two doing?? Don’t you know how late it is???” Orym stopped in his tracks when he saw the scene before him, not-so-subtly checking out Dariax’s butt.

“I thought you said the cart was soundproof!” Dorian frantically whisper-yelled at Dariax.

“I thought it was!” Dariax insisted.

“Why would it be soundproof? It’s just a fabric cart- …why does Dariax have a vagina now?”

Dorian and Dariax looked at each other, blushing furiously, they had a lot of explaining to do.

A/N: I hc that Dariax sleeps naked sometimes so Orym would know that Dariax has a penis, which is cause for legitimate confusion when he sees him without one, he wasn't being weirdly transphobic or anything. Also, Opal and Fearne went off to go fuck in the woods when they woke up to Dorian and Dariax's sex noises.

#critical role #critical hole #xxxandria unlimited #exandria unlimited #doriax #dorian storm #dariax zaveon #wigodasts web of words

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