#AND IM SEVERELY BEHIND ON A PAPER DRAFT FOR MY BOSS!!!!

[jynersq]

is it a line from the rogue one novelization or a barbara walters interview? who can say

[songfell-ut]

Chapter 10, one month in!

Man, I might actually finish this. Link here and @lostmypotatoes remains great.

This one mostly features Frisk having enough of everyone’s shit.

When Sans had composed himself enough to leave the wallpaper behind, he found Dr. Serif double-checking the paperwork while Frisk rustled around in her dressing room. As soon as she emerged in her black dress, the doctor said, "I have a request, Sans. When you escort Snowdrake home, I'd like you to stay in human form. Two monsters going anywhere without an owner will attract too much attention, especially near the border, and we should see whether your disguise can fool another monster. Do you think you can masquerade as a human who is using Sans' magic?"

Sans didn't like the idea – in fact, he completely hated it – but he was in the mood to think before he spoke, and the more he did, the more it made sense. "Yeah, I guess. If I told 'im who I was, he'd probably think I'd been brainwashed or somethin'. Everyone would be weird about it when I got home."

"Exactly." The royal sorcerer rolled the papers back up and placed the scroll on the edge of the table. "Does Sans need to bring the deed to the house with him in case he's questioned, my lady?"

"No, I've written a note and put my seal on it. Here's a map with the house marked, and I also have an insignia he can carry." The priestess went to a little nook by the fireplace, glanced at herself in the mirror, and opened a drawer full of odds and ends. "Where is...ah." Frisk pulled out a leather armband. "This will identify you as the High Priestess' personal agent. I don't use it often, but anyone you speak to should recognize it."

Sans had retrieved his silver chain from the bedroom. He looped it around his neck, put the smaller items in his overcoat, and accepted the armband, admiring the patterns of tiny white and red crystals worked into the leather. "Spiffy. So, if anyone asks me who I am an' where I'm takin' Snowdrake, I can tell 'em to shove it?"

"You will not tell anyone to shove it." He winced at her tone—yep, she was still mad at him. "Furthermore, please remember your fortune. No matter what happens, unless it is absolutely the only way to keep yourself and Snowdrake safe, I don't want you to kill anyone." She swept an errant lock of hair behind her ear, voice softening. "Please, Sans."

The boss monster's SOUL fluttered. He looked down at the armband, which was more of a wristband at his human size. "Fine," he said, trying to sound careless. "I'll talk first, only kill 'em if they really, really bug me."

"Sans!" He'd forgotten that Frisk had the lungs to roar like a miniature hurricane. "Do you care about anything but yourself and what you want to do? If you kill anyone and you cannot come back here and look me in the eye to tell me why it was necessary, I don't want you to come back at all! Do you understand?!"

Sans was speechless. As her echoes bounced off the corners of the room, he not only couldn't think of what to say, it felt like the magic comprising his vocal cords had evaporated.

Into the silence fell the sound of someone rapping on the double doors. Frisk whipped on her veil and headdress, allowing the bemused Dr. Serif to get up and admit two armed guards.

Between the men drooped a birdlike, half-grown monster roughly four feet tall, ice forming on the chains around its neck and feet. Without preamble, the priestess snapped her fingers at the guards and said, "Remove his bonds. Now."

The shorter guard coughed as Snowdrake shrank further back. "He is secured with the commonest type of lock. Your Ladyship will doubtless possess the key already," the guard mumbled.

Though her features were obscured by the veil, the High Priestess' body language was so expressive of absolute wrath that the men swallowed and gripped their weapons tighter. Without turning her head, she said to Sans in measured, glacial tones, "Get rid of those chains."

"As milady wishes," Sans said cheerfully, raising his left hand. The guards didn't notice the red mist surrounding the collar or shackles, but they did see the metal burst into fragments; the men nearly wet themselves as the rest of the chains fell off the startled drake.

"Leave us," ordered Frisk, and they were happy to obey, one pausing to grab the scroll and the other nearly running out the doors ahead of him.

Snowdrake's beak fluttered open, but he shut it and cringed as Frisk reached for his neck. "That's Sans' magic," whispered the young monster. "How'd you get him?"

Frisk placed her hand on his head, feeling him tremble. "He's unharmed, and he's given us his magic in order to help return you to the Underground." She brushed the last few links off his feathery neck, trying to avoid the half-healed scabs where the collar had rubbed him raw. "I am not your new owner, Snowdrake. You're going to be free."

The ice monster's eyes darted between her and the two men. "Yes, my lady," he said woodenly.

The poor kid. Sans knew exactly what it was like to be at a human witch's mercy and having to hear that kind of crap. Only the knowledge that she wasn't lying and Snowdrake would be home soon kept Sans from dropping the disguise right then and there.

"My guard will escort you as close as he can to the entrance to the Underground," Frisk told Snowdrake, then looked at Sans. "You shouldn't have trouble, but if you run into poachers, I'm giving you full authority to protect yourselves through non-lethal means. Is that understood?"

Sans nodded. To his surprise, Dr. Serif cleared his throat. "I think you had better take this as well. Consider it repayment." He produced yet another brooch from his robe, this one large and faintly pink. Sans wondered irritably how many of them he still had. "If you use this to supplement the magic you already possess, you can make the journey in a few easy stages. Pace yourself, and do not hurry back." He sat down as Sans put the brooch away. "Several people in the plot against Her Eminence have already been detained. We will maintain a watch in case anyone else involved decides to strike before they're discovered, and I will personally check on her throughout the day."

"Indeed," said Frisk. "Please take your time."

Holy shit, that hurt. The boss monster plunged his hands into his pockets to avoid breaking anything. "Breakfast should be here in a moment," the priestess went on, "and as soon as you've—" Right on cue, there was another knock at the door. "—both eaten, we'll pack something for you to take with you."

Sans tried to catch her eye, but she went back to the office as the servant unloaded the trolley. Snowdrake made no move to eat until Sans put a plate down and told him, "Go for it," at which the ice monster almost literally dove in. There was no telling the last time he'd had enough to eat, so Sans didn't ask, letting Snowdrake devour nearly everything and gulp down all the milk.

Fortunately, there was a bundle of apples and sandwiches sitting on the bottom of the trolley, along with three flasks of water and one of cider. "I ordered extra provisions. You'll need to keep your strength up," said Dr. Serif, waving away Sans' muttered thanks. He checked that Snowdrake was done, then called, "They're leaving, my lady."

Frisk reemerged, still veiled. "The best of luck to you both," she said.

Sans picked up the bundle, tucking it under his arm. "Sure, boss. See you when I get back." He jerked his head at Snowdrake, who was peering up at him, eyes half closed. "C'mon." Sans shouldered the doors open for the smaller monster to trudge through; a second later, the guard outside made a squeaky sound that indicated Sans had teleported them away.

The priestess sank into a chair, shoulders slumping as she pulled off her headdress. Dr. Serif cleared his throat. "You look as though you need more rest, Your Eminence. Unless, of course, you'd like to talk about your—"

"No. Thank you," she said, loud and sharp. Frisk picked up a fresh stack of letters, sorting them into different piles according to the wax seals or lack thereof. "I have a great deal of correspondence to catch up on, and I'll be very dull company for the next several hours. I'm sure you also have a great deal of work to do—have you started drafting your proposed specifications for the first set of solar arrays?"

"Yes, my lady. In fact, I've scheduled a meeting later this morning with several of my colleagues to discuss the matter. I'll be back this afternoon, but if you need anything at all in the meantime..."

"Thank you," she said again, a little more calmly. "I also must thank you for your help earlier with Sans. Did you figure out why he was acting so strange? I can't believe he grabbed me like that! I don't know what he could have been thinking."

The doctor made a wry face at her back. "I'm not sure how it happened, my lady. I don't believe he intended to become inebriated, but that is certainly what he was." He paused. "I will also keep you apprised of developments in Fernand's interrogation. Your Eminence will be glad to know that Lord Owen has been cleared of suspicion, more than adequately."

Frisk  looked daggers at him. "Has he?"

"Indeed," he said gravely. "The moment his friend was arrested, Lord Owen volunteered to answer questions under hypnosis. He was tested beforehand for any magic with which he might have resisted or subverted the procedure, which ensured his answers were completely truthful. He is guiltless, and can offer no further information."

She nodded, returning to the next stack of letters. Why did she feel just the tiniest bit disappointed?

It was no use pretending. In her too-honest, very tired mind, she knew exactly why: it would've been the ideal excuse to reject him and find another suitor for her "adequate" future. It wasn't at all nice, but facts were facts. No matter how much she wanted to be married, having Luke  as a husband would be like sleeping with her brother!

So, that just left...who?

The doctor coughed theatrically. "Before I go, my lady..."

Something made Frisk look up at him. Dr. Serif gave her a brief smile, and said with unusual delicacy, "With no intrusion intended or opinion attached, I beg that you inform me if and when you wish to safely dispose of your box. Whatever may be inside it, I assume there is magic involved, and throwing it away without the proper precautions may have consequences."

Frisk picked up an envelope and hissed between her teeth as she felt the paper slice her thumb. "I understand, Doctor. Good day to you."

He half-smiled. "And to you, my lady." When she looked up a moment later, he was already gone.

~

If Frisk had ever had a more miserable day as High Priestess, she didn't want to remember when. She hadn't just been trying to get rid of the royal sorcerer; she really did have a pile of mail to get through. The only attention she paid to the proposals was to make a stack of rejects, maybes, and actual prospects. Then she threw the maybes into the reject pile. Then she had to literally grab her own wrist to keep from dumping the entire basket into the fireplace—if she was destined to either marry Lord Owen or hop right into bed with someone unmarriageable, why bother wading through any of these?

A small, flat package at the bottom of the stack puzzled her until she opened it and several bookmarks fell out. Right: she'd ordered them when Sans got after her one time too many for her uncouth reading habits. She could fold all the pages she wanted today, Frisk tried to tell herself, but it just made her wish he was here to tell her to leaf them alone or mark his words. When she got another paper cut, she started to ask him to heal it for her, only to realize she was speaking to an empty room. She had to make do by washing her hands and applying tiny bits of ointment that came right off when she picked up more envelopes.

Just before lunch, Frisk told herself she'd earned a break and went in to flop on the enormous bed. Would Sans be back tonight? If he wasn't back by evening, should she go ahead and sleep in here, knowing he could come back inexplicably drunk and try to cuddle her again?

...She couldn't shake the idea. Technically, she should be scared at the idea of a ten-foot monster with no inhibitions invading her space when she was most vulnerable, but...she wasn't. Not remotely. In fact, her imagination was running with it so fast that she couldn't catch up, much less stop it. Frisk actually had to remind herself that Sans was a skeleton, only for her self to remind her that there were approximately two hundred creative ways around that particular deficit. Ah, well. It was all stupid, harmless tired-brain fantasy about someone she was comfortable with, not as if she was going to marry him or anything...

This was ridiculous. It had only been a few hours, and she was still furious with him, but she missed Sans so much that she could barely function.

There was another knock, and the priestess scowled as she got up to put on her veil and answer the outside door. To her surprise, it was Luke, holding a tiny velvet jewelry pouch out to her. "Good morning, Your Eminence," he said as she pasted on a smile. "Forgive my intrusion, but I came to return this in person."

Frisk opened the drawstrings and pulled out her pearl bracelet, the one he'd removed so the parrot wouldn't destroy it. "Oh. Thank you," she said automatically. Luke waited for more, and she glanced behind her. "I am sorry, Lord Owen, but you've caught me in the middle of decanting. The fumes will be potentially harmful once the mixture has heated, so..."

"It's quite all right. I didn't intend a long visit," he assured her. "I wanted to ask if you've had a chance to look over the contact information I forwarded to you."

Thank God she had found his note in her mail, or else she wouldn't have remembered the farmland at all. "Yes, I have, thank you," she replied. "I'll send your broker an inquiry with the name of my banker. Shall I inform you when I hear back from her?"

"If it's quite convenient, yes, please." The young lord shuffled his feet, as if he was suddenly uncomfortable about something. "Fr—Your Eminence, may I ask if any of the rumors about the All Souls festival are accurate?"

The guard at her door had been doubled, and she couldn't help noticing how both of them were waiting to hear her answer. "Forgive my bluntness, Lord Owen, but I don't know what you're talking about. I have no time for ridiculous gossip," she almost snapped.

"Yes, of course, of course. I'm the one who must beg forgiveness. I'm sure you would never..." Her stare intensified, and he hastened to say, "The last reason I've trespassed on your time is that I am preparing to visit St. Brigid's. I'll be leaving early tomorrow. May I tell Mathilda that you've been well?"

"Absolutely!" Frisk knew this was where she was supposed to ask how his sister was doing in general, how her studies were going, etc. etc., and pass along all sorts of loving messages. But somehow, with her blood still humming and her potential husband right in front of her, and Sans not there to see, she had just one thought: "Could you give her something from me?"

"Yes, of course," he said pleasantly. "What is it?"

Frisk nodded, stepped forward and gave him a quick, decisive hug, careful to get her arms all the way around him before she stepped back. "Please excuse me," she said, "but I haven't seen Mathilda since Christmas, and I miss her very much. I hope you understand."

"Uh..." Luke blinked hard. "Yes, my lady. I'll see her and give her...that. Thank very much, and a good day to you." He bowed vigorously and turned on his heel, speed-walking down the hall in flustered elation.

Ignoring the guards' smirks, the High Priestess went back inside and slammed the doors, removing her veil again. She knew she should be embarrassed or at least care what they were going to say about her, but really, half the city was probably placing bets on who she'd be sleeping with in however many days or hours, so what was one brief embrace?

It was nothing. That was what she'd felt, anyway. Part of her was surprised at her own cold-heartedness, but Frisk knew what had happened when she hugged Sans, and she was certain that no matter how long she snuggled up to Luke, it wouldn't feel remotely similar; if he had put his arm around her, it would've just annoyed her. At least she had eliminated any remaining doubt: Luke could offer her pleasant company, and that was all. Not warmth, or real companionship, or gentleness, laughter, intellectual stimulation, literal attraction...

There went her imagination again. The workroom was still cold from however long Sans had had the windows open, but she had to pick up some papers to fan herself. It was quite a relief when lunch arrived and she could eat Sans' portion to make up for missing breakfast, then retire to the bedroom.

Having spent so much of her early life on her own, Frisk had been shocked when she came to St. Brigid's and discovered that even in a convent, the primary occupation of adolescent girls seemed to be talking about boys, or sex, or any combination thereof. She understood now that they had had very little else to talk or think about, and that being in a strict religious environment meant that there were no other outlets for their perfectly normal teenage curiosity, but those first few months had been eye-opening, to say the least.

To their credit, the sisters were aware of this and knew very well that after the lights went out in the dormitory, the girls would stuff their pillows under their covers to create a laughable illusion of being in bed, crawl to the center of the floor, and whisper to each other until they forgot themselves and laughed too loud at something, which was the cue for the proctor on duty to shout "BED" and send them flying back to their cots. It was probably also why everyone had to undergo a comprehensive sexual education course when they turned fourteen, and of course, the girls who could tell penis jokes for literal hours on end felt quite differently about the matter when an eighty-year-old priestess was passing out textbooks with full-color drawings and scientific labels.

In short, Frisk knew exactly what she was feeling and why. She'd never had the nerve to try anything when she was sleeping in an open room with dozens of other girls and young women, but once she moved into these chambers and found she had nearly unlimited privacy, she had finally availed herself of the opportunity to ignore the Church's teachings on self-exploration. Then she had availed herself of the opportunity a lot, figuring that it was harming no one whatsoever, and that she wouldn't have been given those parts if she wasn't meant to use them. But she hadn't done it since Sans arrived, especially not when they were in the same bed.

Sans was not here now, and she wasted no time, pausing only to throw a quilt over herself before she moved her skirt aside and worked her hand into place. She'd never done this in the middle of the day before, but that added a little excitement; what if she was to take down the barrier against teleportation, and he happened to get back right as she was in the middle of it? That would be just awful. Would he even recognize what she was doing, or would he just—

Another knock. Another fecking knock on the outside door as she was getting this close, and she wanted to burn down the entire castle. Frisk kicked the quilt off, pulled her clothes back into place, and stomped over to her veil and circlet before she threw the doors open. This had better be worth the interruption!

~

Over an hour later, she came back to her rooms with her cluster of guards and, given the general trajectory of the day thus far, was not surprised to find Dr. Serif waiting next to a stack of crates. "Good afternoon," he said. "It seems as if the items you've ordered for your apprenticeship have arrived. Would you like some assistance putting them away?"

Frisk looked at them, and at him, but she could barely speak. "I am overtired, Doctor," she mumbled. "I would appreciate your help, and then I need to rest."

"Of course." The royal scientist opened the double doors and directed the guards to bring the boxes inside while she went to the bathroom to remove her veil and compose herself for a few minutes. It didn't work, but it was long enough for the guards to put everything away and leave, so she only had to worry about the doctor when she emerged.

One look at her was enough. He didn't ask if she was all right, just moved aside a respectful distance as she sat down to check the inventory sheet. "Would you like to talk about it?" he asked kindly.

"No, thank you," she said, voice cracking.

"I understand." The doctor removed the lid from a long box of seedlings and began filling a vial at the sink. "They've found the guard responsible for leaving your door unattended and allowing the assassin into your room. It seems he is affiliated with a local group pushing to decriminalize the retrieval of monsters from the no-man's-land. It should be a valuable link in uncovering more conspirators."

"Excellent. I'm glad to hear it," Frisk said politely, mind still buzzing.

Dr. Serif tipped some water into each seed-bed. "If he avoids detours or anything else he is not supposed to do, Sans should be back late this evening. Don't be alarmed if he takes longer, though. I could easily see him deciding to rush back and overextending himself. He can sleep at your house tonight if need be."

The only sound was water running into the vial and being trickled onto the tiny plants. The doctor glanced at her over his shoulder. "If I may, High Priestess. Please don't go there to wait for him or try to meet him. He should—"

"Get out!"

When the doctor had obediently made himself scarce, Frisk threw her veil on the floor, stormed into the bedroom, and flung herself on the bed for a good, long cry, or at least a long one. It wasn't Dr. Serif's fault that he'd happened to visit right as she was returning from a talk with her father. She hadn't been so angry or humiliated in a long time—of all the people to drag her away from her private time to lecture her about maintaining a good reputation and not sleeping around, why the hell did he think he had the right to do it, especially based on a single stupid rumor? It'd been all she could do not to scream at him that he'd spent his youth screwing his way through most of the kingdom, left her to be neglected almost to death for ten years, and only taken an interest in any of his damn-near-orphans when his second wife died in childbirth and the midwives told him the baby might not survive! How dare he?!

The final nail in the coffin came a few hours later, when she'd finally pulled herself together enough to start writing replies to everything that needed replying to. After many more paper cuts, Frisk was almost done when she heard a knock that she hoped, for the other person's sake, was her dinner.

It was, but it was also another messenger. At least this one wasn't there to take her anywhere, merely to tell her that His Holiness had furnished the records she requested, handing over a folder roughly two inches thick.

Frisk probably should have been glad she could peruse the list of enslaved monsters without Sans hovering over her shoulder, and she was; it was just hard to be happy about much of anything when she was reading all the names and descriptions—she'd felt strongly enough about it when she wasn't remembering how completely beaten Snowdrake had looked, and wondering how many other monsters must be in similar or worse circumstances at that very moment. Her duty now was to go through the list of owners and judge which were probably the absolute worst, and organize inspections as quickly and stealthily as possible.

It all went back to her stupid fortunes. She'd half-purposely led Luke on, and her father had made it very clear that he expected her to make the respectable choice, the hypocritical old goat. The problem was that it was what everyone would expect of her; in the wee hours of the morning, it had felt daring and romantic to contemplate a future where she had a child with a not-husband, but the reality was that it would probably ruin her life, just like her mother's. Frisk was more confused than ever: how could she change the world and free monsters if she did something so socially unacceptable that no one would probably ever speak to her again? But she'd also have new parents and a huge family...how?!

Even if Sans had been a complete idiot at the fortune-teller's table, she wished more than ever that he was here to talk to. Damn Dr. Serif for reading her thoughts so easily. There was still the brooch he'd given her a couple nights ago, but she wanted to save it for a real emergency; besides, it wasn't as if she could do much to help Sans if he simply needed to rest before coming back to the castle...assuming he was coming back.

Frisk shook herself. There was no reason to believe that at all! She had to think more constructively. Wasn't there some way to communicate w—ah, yes, he was able to speak to Papyrus in dreams. She had joined him fairly easily the time she'd tried it. If she took down that barrier again...

...then the child could get in. But Sans wasn't here. Could it make her hurt him in a dream?

That was when Frisk officially gave up on thinking, or working, or doing anything else for the day. It was already after sunset, so she folded up the registry, instructed the guards not to let anyone disturb her unless something was actively on fire, and went to run a bath. Her mind didn't clear much, but it did help relax her, even if she was still too tense to pick up where she'd left off with herself. She put on her fuzziest nightgown, whisked the barrier away and built up a fire in the bedroom, then made a warm nest of blankets and settled herself to sleep, leaving her mind cautiously open.

~

She woke a little as the bed creaked beside her. She grumbled under her breath and turned away from him, pulling the covers up.

Undeterred, he ducked beneath the covers and draped himself over her side. His hard, smooth fingers caught on her hair as he pushed it out of the way to nuzzle her neck. It was a good start, but he must have been tipsy: she yelped as his nasal bone jabbed her. "sorry," he murmured.

That should've been that; she graciously permitted him to stroke her hair as an apology, and settled back down to sleep.

She should have known better when he started petting her back and down her side, and then rubbed her leg, knowing very well that she'd sleepily turn toward him so he could pet the other one, too. Then came a soft, warm touch on her neck, his hands sliding under her nightshirt, and her nightshirt creeping up as he eased his weight onto her.

"Really?" she tried to ask, but his mouth was in the way, and he easily caught the hand she brought up to push him off, spreading his fingers to interlace them with hers.

He would have stopped if she'd insisted. She didn't. She—

~

Someone was in her office.

Frisk was not afraid. She was done. She got out of bed with an ache in her groin and murderous resolve in her heart, moving silently through the bedroom and the dark workroom. There was no light showing under the office door, but she could feel ripples through the barrier over her safe as someone dug into the floor around it. With no restraint or remorse, she yanked open the doors and slammed a multi-layered barrier into the room, catching the would-be thief by surprise.

Whoever it was, they were unnaturally strong and agile, nearly catching the edge to squeeze through as it sealed itself off. But it was no use: fueled by angry determination, the barrier snapped shut into a golden sphere, trapping the person inside. The intruder struck at it several times with terrific force, but Frisk held firm until the figure staggered, then fell to its knees, wheezing.

Only then did Frisk click her tongue, dropping the layer that prevented air from getting in, and strengthening the layer that suppressed magic. "Whoever you are, you have ten seconds to explain yourself," she snarled.

A gulping breath. "Please, my lady—"

Frisk was so startled that her concentration wavered. The figure took the opportunity to hit the barrier again, and she promptly cut its air off, waiting several seconds before she allowed any back in. The priestess came forward and peered inside. "...Doctor?"

In the barrier's glow, she could see quite well, and though she knew she had him contained, Frisk felt a twinge of fear. It had sounded exactly like the royal sorcerer, but this was not Dr. Serif. It was a monster, a skeleton with a long, eerie face, much more smooth and hollow-looking than Sans or Papyrus. As it straightened, its arms stayed hidden in the folds of its long, ragged black coat, and several disembodied skeletal hands floated over its shoulders. "The man who speaks in hands," she said to herself. No wonder they were supposed to beware him!

The monster's brow creased. "The man who speaks in hands?" he repeated in Dr. Serif's whispery voice. "How very poetic." Cough. "May I ask where you—"

"You may not!" The barrier constricted, nearly brushing the top of his skull. "Who are you?" she demanded.

The skeleton visibly struggled to answer, and finally croaked, "My name is W.D. Gaster. I am a monster who has been posing as a human in order to maintain my post as the royal sorcerer." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "Young lady, what...what is this?"

Frisk sat down on the couch, which had been moved aside to expose the safe. "I assume you mean the fact that you can't lie to me while you're in there. I'm not much good at truth spells, but I figured out how to incorporate one into a barrier, which I am very good at. I just don't use it very often." On some level, she wasn't surprised that Dr. Serif had been hiding something like this, but she was still afraid—had any of his help or kindness been real, or was it all for some unknown, sinister purpose? Would he try to eliminate her now that she knew what he was?

Gaster was staring at her. Above him, both pairs of hands started a slow clap. "I am extremely impressed, Your Eminence. I am also very apprehensive. As a monster, I cannot match your determination, which means you have me at a complete disadvantage. I must commend you."

The priestess was gratified, but knew better than to drop her guard; she could feel him subtly testing the weave and span of the barrier with unseen hands. "Stop that," she snapped, and he did, tilting his head to concede defeat. "Were you trying to steal my box?"

"Of course," he said. "I infer that it contains your memories, and it is now common knowledge that the future of this world hinges on what you do with it."

Frisk controlled another stab of anger, though she couldn't stop the barrier from popping and snapping like a bonfire. "And you thought you would...what? Dispose of it without asking me?"

"I don't know exactly what I was thinking," Gaster confessed. "I succumbed to intellectual curiosity as to what distilled memories look like, and whether I could view them without disturbing the physical medium. What I would do with them would depend on their contents."

The barrier was now eye-wateringly bright. "You broke into my rooms when Sans wasn't here, damaged my property, and woke me up from a very good dream because you thought you knew better than me what I should do with my life?! How dare you! How dare all of you try to decide this for me?"

"You are completely correct, my lady, and I apologize wholeheartedly." The monster placed his hand on his chest and bowed from the waist. "I swear that I will not presume to meddle any further."

It sounded sincere, but the old priestess who'd helped her develop this technique had been very emphatic: if someone promised something while under a truth spell, there was nothing to stop them from breaking it once the spell ended. "Why are you here?" she asked. "What are your intentions?"

He managed a chuckle. "As I truthfully told your apprentice earlier today, that is a large question." The monster's hands folded into pairs. "I do not believe you will derive any benefit from my entire story, and that most of it will unnecessarily disturb you. May I tell you as much as I sincerely believe will benefit you, and omit that which is not necessary?"

Frisk bit her lip. "I'd prefer to be the judge of that. Answer me, please: what are your intentions towards me, and Sans, and this kingdom in general?"

Gaster didn't reply. Frisk felt him trying to use some kind of magic similar to Sans' to slip out of the barrier, and she gave one sharp whistle; the skeleton's hand went to his throat as his magic dissolved and the air started to thin again. "Please, stop!" he rasped.

The priestess did so, feeling a tiny bit guilty. That rush of anger was starting to fade, but she knew she couldn't let him manipulate her into letting him go before she was ready. The fact that he had been manipulating her up till now was more than enough to steady her resolve. She crossed her arms and stared him down in silence.

A hand came up to massage Gaster's temple. "All right. I...do not intend to harm anyone. I came here solely as an observer, and have only remained for this length of time in order to rectify my errors." He sighed. "As is so often the case, every attempt I make only compounds the problem, and yet I cannot seem to stop."

Frisk shook her head. "I don't want vagueness or lies by omission, Dr. Gaster. Where did you come from, and on whose behalf are you observing us?"

"I came from a place similar to this one. I lived inside Mt. Ebott, which contained the Underground, home to monsters such as Sans, Papyrus, King Asgore, Queen Toriel...to my knowledge, every living monster I knew currently resides here as well."

The priestess' mouth fell open. "How...?"

He made an impatient sound. "As I said, the majority of this information is not necessary to impart. You can do nothing with the knowledge of another Underground, except for the one or two details that are relevant to you and Sans, which I will tell you if you agree to trust me that you do not need the rest. Do we have a deal?"

She exhaled. "Fine. What are you doing here now? Are you gathering information to bring back to your Underground?"

"I dearly wish that this was the case, young lady, but no. I was expelled from my home in an accident, and I no longer exist there. I have been wandering ever since, looking for another place I might settle into." Another sigh. "I know now that it was not only a vain hope, but a dangerous one."

"Dangerous? How so?"

He grimaced. "I found out the hard way, of course. I thought I was doing the right thing when I transplanted a certain monster from a dangerous environment to a safer one where he was needed. I did not know that the danger would follow."

Frisk's skin prickled. "What do you mean? Please start making more sense."

"Very well. To start at the beginning, I must tell you I am not the first W.D. Gaster to have lived in this kingdom or its Underground. Many, many years ago, when I happened upon this place, I went looking for the first item on my checklist: myself. Unfortunately, when I found him, I discovered that your Gaster was easily one of the cruelest I have seen. He conducted horrific experiments on defenseless subjects, both humans and monsters, and he created new life purely to torment it."

The chill increased as Gaster's face darkened. "I was skilled enough to observe him unseen, and his actions disgusted me. I should have left, but when I saw him murder one of his 'sons,' I grew so angry that I could not stop myself. I killed this world's Gaster, and I tried to save his other creation, but it was too late. I broke my policy of noninterference without any real benefit to anyone." He sat down inside the barrier. "Imagine my surprise when I checked the rest of the laboratory and discovered one copy of the younger skeleton ready to awaken, hardly more than a baby. There was no sign that any other creations had survived. I now had a decision to make."

"The 'younger' skeleton? You don't mean—"

"Yes. He created Sans and Papyrus, and he killed them, knowing he could replace them at any time."

The priestess had to fight the urge to be sick all over the office floor. "Couldn't you have taken his place and tried to undo the damage he caused?"

"That was a definite option, and I was tempted. But this is not my home, and I did not want to stay for much longer. I believe I made the correct choice in that respect."

Now she understood why he hadn't wanted to tell her this. Too late; she had to hear the rest of the story.

"It was quite the dilemma. I could not leave Papyrus on his own, nor could I stay here to raise him, or take him with me. He was too young, and I did not know what might happen if I brought him into another place with another Papyrus. But there was no Sans here to care for him. So..." He closed his eyes, pulling the slashes taut. "I made another well-intentioned mistake."

There was a very long pause. "There are certain variations of time and place that I have seen more frequently than others," he said slowly. "The most tragic is where a very sorrowful and angry SOUL becomes warped into a force of absolute destruction, essentially a demon, and it finds a vessel to connect it to the physical world." His eyes opened. "It kills everything, Frisk. Every monster in the Underground, every human above, until there is nothing left. But the force itself does not die. It finds another place to destroy. And another. And another. The child you have seen in your nightmares is here because it cannot bear the fact that in one place, at one time, there was one monster it failed to exterminate. It has come here looking for him."

All the hairs on Frisk's body were standing straight up. "What exactly happened?"

"I found a place where a Sans stood ready to meet the child on its way to murder Asgore and leave the Underground. He had made a promise not to harm any fallen humans, and that promise bound him until it was too late. As always, he was still going to fight it, knowing that it was futile." Gaster looked at his hands, studying the holes in the palms. "I did not speak to him, or even let him see me. I approached him from behind, rendered him unconscious, and transported him here. I had checked Snowdin and saw that the house in which they usually reside was empty, so I brought them both there, left a supply of food and money, and allowed them to live as usual."

"...But...but doesn't he—"

"This world's practice of memory excision is not a good one, in my opinion, but it gave me the idea to try to...adjust him. I did not remove his memories to save for later if he chose to revisit them: I destroyed them entirely. As far as he or anyone else knows, he has always lived here with his little brother." Gaster looked back up at her. "I wanted to give him a second chance in a place where the demon did not exist, and where circumstances were not likely to replicate its creation. I knew that he might have nightmares as echoes of his past experiences, or even glimpses of other lives, but I had no conception that the child itself would stalk him all the way here."

The barrier wavered. Gaster did not move as Frisk shook herself and hummed it back to full strength. She'd have to process all of this information properly later. For now, next question... "Why did you become the royal sorcerer? Didn't you want to leave as soon as you knew they'd be safe?"

"I did, but I came back periodically to check on them. All seemed well until one visit where I discovered that a group of humans had just visited on a diplomatic mission that ended in violent catastrophe. Imagine my surprise when I examined Dr. Alphys' records and discovered that the Sans I rescued had become a boss monster through imperfectly understood means. It was one of the most anomalous variations in his growth that I have ever observed, and it absolutely fascinated me."

His tone was a little too rapturous for her tastes. "You disguised yourself as a human and became the royal sorcerer to keep a closer eye on Sans?" she asked warily.

"Oh, no, my dear young lady. I did so in order to keep a closer eye on you." Frisk started as the skeleton slowly got to his feet. "In order to affect physical matter, even something as tenuous as a monster's body, the demon must find a host. In the course of observing Sans and his brother, I became convinced that the child was trying to reach him, but it could not attach itself to any of the monsters. Through various means, I eventually tracked it to you, just as you were being considered as a replacement for the murdered High Priestess. Not only did I feel the need to protect Sans from a danger he no longer recalled, I became curious about you."

"In what way?" Frisk couldn't help rubbing her eyes. "Why did it choose me?"

Gaster smiled thinly. "At the risk of threatening you or, even worse, stating the obvious," he said in a different tone, "I would guess that a barrier of this strength and complexity requires a great deal of power, and you are not going to be able to maintain it much longer. I will only be at your mercy for another few minutes at most, after which I could make a serious attempt to break out and potentially injure one or both of us." He took a step forward. "I propose instead that I tell you more about Sans while you still know I am being truthful, and then you release me."

He was right. "If I release you, will you attack me or take any other malicious action against me, now or in the future?" Frisk asked carefully.

"I do not intend you or Sans any type of harm whatsoever, Frisk, now or in the future. I bear you no malice, though I admittedly find being caught in this fashion very irksome."

Frisk would have to be content with that. "Done. What do you want to tell me?"

"That you did not give Sans the opportunity to apologize for his conduct at the festival or the morning after, and you said something fairly cruel before he left. I thought I made it clear that he is not stable and you must be careful how you handle him."

It took a second to recall how she'd told Sans to take his time, and his expression after she did. "I'm not his mother," she argued. "I'm sorry I hurt his feelings, and I'll apologize when he gets back, but even you said I shouldn't be held responsible for his behavior. He's been fairly good at keeping his temper, all things considered."

"He's been good at keeping his temper around you," Gaster said severely. "Did you know that monsters can see the condition of a living monster or human SOUL? I have been monitoring Sans for a long time, as you now know, and soon after he became a boss monster, his SOUL began to darken at a remarkable rate. It was natural for him to accrue EXP as he fought humans to protect his kin, but it is extremely unusual for a single monster to develop such a taste for violence when the rest of the Underground remains unaffected."

Frisk didn't know what EXP was, but she could guess, and time was running short. "What are you saying, Doctor?" she snapped.

"I am saying that I do not know exactly why he is the way he is, and I don't only mean his metamorphosis into a boss monster. No matter what kind of magic he was subjected to, and however his LV grows, it cannot explain why Sans is so very angry. It's so ingrained that it feels deliberate, which I don't understand. Is it vestigial regret from his first life? A heretofore unknown side effect of the accident that spurred his transformation? All I know is that when he was listening to your song yesterday morning, I saw him let go of his accumulated rage for the very first time. When I took another look, it seemed as though several layers of that filth have been sloughed off his SOUL since he came here, though far more remains."

The priestess flushed. It was flattering to think she could affect him that much, but...

Gaster must have seen her skepticism. He sighed so mightily that his entire body settled to the floor, as if he simply couldn't keep himself upright. "You can't seriously—you can." He drew himself back up to his full height. "You may still be hurt by having been previously abandoned by those you cared for, young lady, but what do you need to hear before you understand the current situation? That Sans is deeply in love with you? That he behaved so stupidly at the fortune-teller because he was beside himself with jealousy? That any apprehensions you may have about him deciding not to come back here are laughable at best, and you are the only one who can make him want to return to a happier state of mind and avert the possibility of him hurting innocent people?"

Frisk had specifically been taught not to do what she did next: spring to her feet and bring her fist straight down on the barrier, shattering it like paper-thin glass. "However you got in here without alerting the guards, or waking them," she added darkly, "please see yourself out the same way. Good night, Dr. Gaster!"

In the sudden blackness, his eyes showed as two tiny pinpricks, one yellow and one blue. Frisk made herself meet his terrible gaze and point at the door, and he chuckled appreciatively. "Good night, High Priestess," he murmured. There was a rush of shadow, then an empty room.

The priestess could barely move or think. She felt her knees bend and her hand grope around the space where Gaster had been tunneling into the safe. She removed the barrier, picked up the box, put the barrier back up, got to her feet. Back to the bedroom, another barrier up on the door, and a collapse into bed, pulling the blankets around her. Too tired and too troubled to remember where she had left off...what would she see the next time she dreamed?

More importantly, where was Sans?

~

She was walking over an expanse of sand and scrubby trees that she had never seen before but somehow knew was the no-man's-land, closer to the Underground than to human territory. Her head turned at the sound of men screaming, far off to her left. In the fading light, she saw flickers of magic, a bigger flash, and a sound more awful than screams: silence.

Not total silence. As she approached, Frisk heard a familiar chuckle, but not in a familiar way. This was not a skeleton pleased with his own stupid puns or laughing at her rage when he beat her at chess five times in a row. This was someone standing amidst a pile of broken human corpses, surveying his handiwork and enjoying it.

For a terrified moment, Frisk thought Sans was doing this in the present, or had just done it, and she wanted to scream at him—but no, he was wearing the ragged canvas garments she'd first seen him in, not the wool and linen ones she had given him. If this had ever happened – which felt likely – then he was dreaming of a time more distant than the past twenty-four hours.

She was only about fifty yards away, but he didn't seem to notice her. She tried to call out to him, only for her voice to get stuck as she looked again at the human bodies he was stepping over like rocks in his path. Gaster had been right. Sans really was capable of this, wasn't he? He wasn't the gentle, protective, sometimes-somewhat-sweet-natured skeleton she'd grown fond of. He was a killer.

No. He was gentle and sometimes somewhat sweet, and he was a killer. Frisk couldn't fall into the trap of believing that only one side of him existed, or that only one was "real"; people didn't work that way. She had to talk to the one she knew—he was there, too!

Sans was trudging away. Remembering what Gaster had said, Frisk took a big breath and whistled at him over the empty expanse, using a few bars from this morning's song—she'd often seen him stop what he was doing to listen to it.

Sure enough, he paused. He turned, and his orange eyes focused on her. The flames dimmed just a little. "Frisk?" Sans came closer, skirting the pile of bodies. "'sat really you?"

The priestess held out her hands. Sans reached out to touch her fingers, then recoiled—his hand was spattered with blood. "What are you doin' here?" he asked, voice rougher than usual. "Ya don't wanna see this!"

"No, I don't. But I wanted to see you," she said.

Sans blinked at her. He jerked his head for her to follow him, moving until the grim scene was out of her line of sight. Then he sat down, plunging his hands into the sand to scrub the blood off. "Yer an idiot. Why'd you come after me? I thought ya wanted me t'take my time gettin' back."

Frisk winced. She really had hurt his feelings. "I'm so sorry I said that. I missed you today."

The boss monster swallowed hard. "Fine. Ya saw me." He shook sand off his metacarpals, aiming it away from her. "Look, 'm sorry, too. I embarrassed the crap outta ya at the stupid festival, and I..." He shrugged elaborately. "I dunno what the hell I was doin' yesterday mornin', but whatever happened, I'm sorry."

"It's all right, Sans." Frisk folded her hands behind her back. "Did Snowdrake arrive safely?"

"Yeah. I only saw one nosy neighbor lady at the house, an' I played nice 'n let 'er see the note. She left us alone after that. Didn't see anyone else till we got close enough to the Underground t'let 'im go. Poor little bastard kept thinkin' it was some kinda trick." The skeleton brushed more sand off his femur. "I ran inta some poachers on my way back t'the city, but they didn' have any monsters with 'em, an' they just told me to get lost, so I did."

Frisk smiled. "Thank you. That means a lot to me."

Sans made his usual noises, which just made her smile wider. "How was yer first day off from babysittin' me?" he asked crossly. "Good?"

"It sucked," she said, deadpan, and he snorted. "Seriously, Sans, it was awful. Everyone's heard of my fortunes already, and my father, who has had at least fifteen children that we're aware of, gave me a talking-to about my sexual mores."

The skeleton's eyes were fully alight. "Yer kiddin'. Ya haven't even done anythin'!"

There was the tiniest pause, and lest he add "...Right?" and force her to kill him, Frisk said, "Right. It just reminded me that if I open the box and end up having a child on my own, I'll be an unwed mother. Among humans, that makes you a complete outcast. I wish we were more like monsters, I really do."

Sans was very quiet, in a way that put Frisk on edge. "But, of course," she said with forced optimism, "if I don't open it, I'll get married and be completely boring and respectable for another fifty or sixty years, and just have to live with the fact that I chose not to let monsters go free." Her throat was closing up yet again, and she shook her head. "Why do I have to decide this, Sans? I'm used to being under pressure, but not like this! What am I supposed to do?!"

The boss monster edged closer as she sniffled. "Ya know what you should do?" he asked.

"What?!" It came out nearly as a shriek. "What should I do, Sans? Tell me!"

Sans remained sitting, watching her quietly as she scrubbed her face on her sleeve. "I think you should make a decision an' go for it insteada tormentin' yerself like this. Whatever ya wanna do, it'll turn out t'be the right thing. An' fer what it's worth..." He fidgeted, scowling at the ground. "Whether ya pick the bird guy or...someone else, if ya ever need help, I'll do whatever I can. Heavy lifting, beatin' people up, dumb jokes, whatever. So...quit whinin' and pick somethin'. Flip a coin if ya need to. Just stop hurtin' yerself. Okay?"

Frisk's heart stood still. She looked at him in such a way that he sat back warily. "What? What'd I say?"

"Don't say anything," she said, advancing on him. "And don't get up yet."

"Hey, hey, lady, this's a dream, remember? Ya can't touch m—"

Sans lapsed into stunned silence as Frisk's arms went around his neck and her cheek rested on his clavicle. She leaned her full weight on him and heaved a sigh. "I'm sorry to ambush you again," she said into the space between his ribs. "I just needed to see something." It was the same as before, a wonderfully tingly feeling in her chest that spread through her body until she wondered what'd happen if she moved away too fast. Frisk sighed again, trying to work up the willpower to let go. Somehow, he wasn't as uncomfortable as she would've thought, as if there was a very thin layer of something padding his bony exterior. It just made it harder to—

Sans' arms came up to hold her against him, as he had the previous morning, and neither of them cared that they were so big, they overlapped over her back. His cheekbone rested against her head, careful not to be too heavy. "Whaddya do with yer hair?" he muttered.

It was...not what she'd expected him to say. "Can you elaborate, please?" she muttered back.

"I dunno what smells are what. I think the longer I stay human, the more human-ish stuff I can do, like smell, 'n feel stuff I touch." His phalanges moved softly through her hair. "This doesn't make any sense. Yer not s'posed to be able t'interact with anyone in a dream 'less ya went ta sleep in the same room or somethin'."

"I don't know about you, Sans, but I'm sick of thinking." Frisk stared at a spot of drying blood on the ground behind him. "In fact, you're right. I'm done thinking about this." She squeezed him gently, though she knew she could use all her strength and he'd barely feel it. "Let me go, please. It's time for me to get some real sleep."

"...Nuh-uh."

Frisk laughed. "It's vanilla," she said over his shoulder.

"Hm?" Sans was absently petting her hair again. "Wha's vanilla?"

It was so nice that she wanted to fall asleep right there, somehow. When was the last time she'd felt this secure? "It's...my hair. I don't use a lot of expensive lotions, but I'll splurge on anything scented with vanilla. Do you like it?"

"Mm. 'snot as bad as most of the stuff I've smelled so far."

The priestess smiled, then reached up to touch his skull. He tensed as her fingertips encountered the wide, smooth expanse of bone. It was warmer than she'd expected, almost velvety—probably from magic, she figured. "I'm very tired, Sans, and I've used almost all of my magic already. Can you please let me go now?"

He wouldn't. The last shred of doubt in her mind disappeared, and in a surge of determination, Frisk ducked free of his arms, moving out of his reach. "I'll see you soon," she told him. "Tomorrow?"

"Uh." Sans had the oddest look on his face. It reminded her of when she'd cleaned the fork for him at their first face-to-face meeting in the bedroom. "I dunno. I might be drunk again when I wake up. It kinda feels like it."

Frisk gave a long, theatric sigh. "If you are, please sleep it off before you come back. We've gotten in the supplies I ordered, and I don't need you eating the plants or something ridiculous." She stepped back further. "Good night, Sans."

"Night," he said inaudibly, and she left.

~

The guards outside Frisk's doors admitted Dr. Serif after breakfast, then settled in to wait for the royal sorcerer to leave, after which they could properly nap. His morning visits were usually an hour or so, in their experience.

This time, after only five or so minutes, the doors banged open, and one guard dropped his halberd. "I wish to be very clear, Doctor," the High Priestess said, voice pitched to carry down the hall. "Do not open it, do not attempt or allow anyone to attempt to open it, and do not keep it for any reason. I want it destroyed. Will you please do so as soon as possible?"

"Of course,Your Eminence." To the guards' astonishment, the normally imperturbable doctor was frowning, and took the little rosewood box with obvious reluctance. "Good day to you."

The priestess shut the doors without another word. The guards stared at Dr. Serif, who was now scowling full-force at the box. With a glance at the doors and none at all at the two men, the doctor tried to pry the lid open, only to drop it as the box sizzled at him. "How did she put a barrier inside it?" he said to no one.

The guards could barely wait till he was gone to whisper to each other, "She threw it away! I knew she wouldn't—" "Oh, bull shit, you said she'd get knocked up by this time next w—" "No I didn't! I—"

Slam went the doors. Frisk glared at one, then the other, and waited the count of five before she slowly pulled them shut.

[hobiwonder]

Conspicuous (m) |

Genre: Smut, PWP. Sugarmama!Reader, Sugarbaby/little!Jungkook. 

Pairing: reader x jungkook. Reader is older.

Warnings: detailed description of oral sex, intercourse, creampie, cream pie eating, dirty talk, noona kink and just overall badly written porn lolll.

Words: 7.1k

Summary: Pretty docile jungkook falls for a cynical old witch. you kinda like him too i guess.

a/n: so i wrote this a while ago and it was shit but then i edited this slower than a turtle and realised it’s not much better lmao but im kinda trying to move on from hating my writing so here u go :// it is what it is. i hope u guys semi-like this :)) also im a big fat liar and can’t stick to update dates so pls 4give.

It had been a rough day. You had over 4 meetings and a ton of paper work to look over before you signed and made a few deals for your company that had been in the works for months. Signing on new contractors to make your company’s newest tech products hadn’t been an easy feat. Finding honest companies with good work ethic, a spotless track record of their dealings before with other major enterprises was also not an easy task. You were known to be a meticulous worker, settling for nothing but the best when it came to the products your company launched. Finally, after months of designing and drafting the first prototype for the newest series of cameras and mobile phones, your company was about to launch their new line. This project had been your baby for a long, long time.

Some would argue that you hadn’t had to work hard for anything in your life. Inheriting your father’s company at the ripe age of 23 had made you nothing but bitter with the way your life had turned out. You were young and impressionable, and wanted everything from the world. There was nothing that you thought was out of your reach with a billion-dollar inheritance anyway. Yet the possibility of having to take over your father’s entire company due to his sudden and inconveniently timed illness had never crossed your mind. It had been very sudden. One day you had been planning a trip to Paris with your friends and the next day at 8am you had to fly down to Seoul to head the board meeting. By 9pm, you had been voted the new Chief Executive Officer. You had been thrilled at first, trying to make the best of the situation that you were slam dunked into. However, it was hard to keep up the optimistic façade when you had discovered that you were only voted in because the mistrust that your father had built in his own company had lead all the prospective candidates for the job to vote you in. Handing you the position just to ultimately micromanage under the pretence of ‘guiding’ you had seemed a better option to all the other high ranking employees than to trust each other at handling the company by voting on someone from it who probably knew the company inside and out.

Your father was a clever bastard. You hated him, but you had to give it to him for creating such a passively aggressive hostile environment where none of his officials trusted anyone but him. Which ensured that when his demise came, the position that he had held in his own company for decades would be seamlessly passed down to you, without anyone accusing your father of manipulating the rules. Each day passed and the more you held on, just out of spite for your father and the retched men filled workplace that you were in charge of, the more rivals you made out of the men twice your age, greying and still hitting on you despite insisting that they saw you as their ‘own daughter.’ It was infuriating, disturbing and honestly, quite disheartening, when all your dreams of traveling the world, making a name for yourself as a photographer, working with expressionists to runway models to just taking pictures of breathtaking landscapes, had been shattered. Though, there was no point on dwelling. Your father had barely believed in your dreams nor ever payed attention whenever you tried to steer the conversation in the direction of what you wanted to do. To put it simply, if it did not generate revenue – and fast – your father had no interest in your dreams. You had learned that quite young and kept it all to yourself, albeit the longing you felt in the pit of your stomach for someone who would root for you, remained. Someone who would follow and support your journey. But what use is there for that special someone when the dream no longer lived?

That’s what you told yourself each night that your mind would wander to useless thoughts of what could have been and what definitely wasn’t. You were a cynic by nature, but you had tried to defeat that part of yourself once upon a time. No longer did you inhibit these tendencies when they came in so handy being the youngest CEO your company was likely to see. Each decision you had made had been opposed to the maximum. First they were careful, trying not to out their true intentions. When you showed no signs of quitting or budging from your position, all the men had been quite shameless in opposing you as well as their public display of disdain for you. When you worked with the wolves every day, it was hard not to become a pessimist and even harder to not let it suck all emotions out of you until nothing was left but the ever dull numbness that you worked with every day.

Until him. Until he seemingly just showed up in your life one day, looking ever like the lost little boy who was searching for his mother at the fair. Yes, he literally looked too kind, too good to be true. With his too big innocent eyes, slightly pouted lips, eyebrows furrowed charmingly as he held the flyer in his hand, trying to figure out if he was in the right building or not. He’d been chatting with the receptionist when you’d entered the building with your assistant trailing beside you going over the day’s agenda. At first you had barely glanced at him as you approached the reception to pick up some forms that your assistant was supposed to but you figured, why not? You’re passing through anyway. You weren’t a monster, as much as everyone at your company believed you to be. When you really had a good look at him, your heart had skipped several beats, taking in how handsome he really was.

He’d been leaning over the counter pointing something out to Somin, the main receptionist while she shook her head apologetically at him, her face twisting into a pitying expression.

“Sorry darling, we’re looking for professional companies to shoot the commercial. I’m afraid there is nothing we can do.”

“I-I have a portfolio though. Please, would you have your b-boss or anyone really, have a look at it?” He was almost pleading by this point. This made Somin sigh, leaning forward in her seat to give him an eyeful of her breasts. You knew he was getting an eyeful from the smirk on her face and the almost visible battle he was having with himself to not look down at her chest.

“Sweetheart, there is no point okay? Our boss won’t be interested in cute little boys like you with little to no experience with professional campaigns. Personally, I think she’d eat you alive. Why don’t you meet me in a few hours and I can get you some other gigs? I know a lot of people.” You almost gagged at the sugary sweet voice she had put on for him, twirling a strand of her hair.

You almost wanted to fire her but knowing you didn’t have time to deal with that headache, you settled for letting her know you were watching her unprofessional behaviour. Throwing down a pile of papers for her to forward to the relevant departments, you made yourself known, interrupting her flirting when she visibly jumped at your voice.

“Put your tits back in your blouse Somin, before I fire you.”

“I-I, ah, yes ma’am.” She muttered looking down quickly adjusting in her seat as she clicked away on her computer, no doubt trying to look like she wasn’t just hitting on the boy. “I was just letting him know we don-”

“Send him in.”

“Wait, are-”

“Somin, send him in.” You said it slower, to get your point across that you didn’t need her input on any decision you made. Even as frivolous as this one.

Or so you thought.

Jungkook, if possible, had looked even more startled than Somin. Almost doubling over, tripping on his way over when he realised who you were and that you had agreed to meet him.

Turns out, that decision was not frivolous at all. Considering how little time it took you to decide that he was yours and that you would move any mountain in the world you could to see a smile on his face after you let him shoot the magazine cover for your company’s monthly issue. It wasn’t the commercial he was hoping to shoot, despite having an remarkable portfolio. Nonetheless, it was enough to have the sunniest smile you had ever seen on anyone. Most of all, it was sincere. He had been honest, too honest, letting you know that he desperately needed this job. He was two months behind his college tuition and if he didn’t make any payment, he would be kicked out. At first you had contemplated the chances of him lying to you about his backstory to get a gig. After all, the exposure that your company or merely being associated with your company afforded, was enormous. Enough to get anyone started on their feet with the name of your company on their resume. But there was no doubt of his truth. Firstly, his clothes did all the talking. The poor boy was wearing a hoodie a size too small, shoes almost giving away at the stitches but most of all, his eyes. They were the kindest that you had ever come across. They showed the kind of hope in them that you had for yourself six years ago. Even though it was obvious that his situation was in dire need of saving, probably no other option after this, he still held on with stubbornness and tenacity you only wished you had held on to. Not the one where you go months arguing your point just to wear everyone out and get your way to prove yourself. Not just because you could and you were the CEO. But because you believed in yourself. Jungkook believed in himself and his efforts. In the short amount of time you spent with him that morning, you learned more about him than you had learned about yourself in all the 29 years you had been alive.

The rest had been history. It had started out with a job for him and turned into so much more. The first time you had kissed him was when he was shooting the cover page. You never went to any of the magazine shoots unless you were in a featuring story, but your heart had betrayed you when you tried to tell yourself you didn’t really need to see him. He was nothing special to you. That thought process went to shit when your lips had met his and the undeniably soft moan he had let out in surprise of your action. A kiss turned into secret rendezvous in your office when everyone was packing up and leaving while you pressed him into your office desk with your body straddling his, tugging the sweetest moans out of his soft mouth as your hand worked his length. He never asked for more; at first. Just relishing in the moments of tenderness you provided him unlike your cold exterior and dealings with him on a normal basis. But these stolen moments in your office turned into him staying at your place almost every night of the week. At first you told yourself that he was a grown man, you didn’t need to worry if he had dinner or if the heater at his place was working alright. But who were you fooling anyway? One noisy growl from his stomach and you were out of your office, motioning him to follow you. And he did, eyes wide, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

Watching him eat was one of your favourite pass times. He made so much noise, munching his food loudly like a baby that all it did was make you crazy from inside out. Making it harder and harder to keep an emotional distance from him while you kept up this mutually beneficial arrangement. It was hard keeping him at an arm’s length when he was so open and willing to share his heart with you. He was smart, he was diligent in his affection, kind, caring, shy. Utmost importantly, he believed in you, the goodness in you. It made you feel guilty at night when both of you lay in your post coital bliss, him snoring lightly beside you while his head lay on your arm. Guilty that he took even the smallest gestures at such high value, looking at you like you were the centre of his universe when you did so much as buy him a pair of cashmere gloves and scarf in the cold unforgiving months of winter. You knew it wasn’t just because of the money or the things that you would buy for him. You knew this because the first time you transferred him money without him knowing, it wasn’t spent until 3 weeks later when he was actually expecting his pay check. And those 3 weeks, you were stuffed so full with his random displays of affection whenever you were with him. He would make sure to touch you as much as he could whenever he was around. Telling you again and again how wonderful you were every chance he got. Saying how much you inspired him and gave him hope for any future for himself knowing how much stress you were always under. It was almost suffocating as you weren’t used to it all but slowly, you realised you were spoiled. You doubted anything less in the future would satisfy you.

Tonight was no different. Maybe a little different. If anything had changed in the months that you had met Jeon Jungkook, was that you had learned that even big, muscly boys like him, who were no less than men judging solely from the rippling muscles, and by god the best fucking 8 pack you had ever seen, could be just as attention demanding as a 5-year-old. Jungkook was a certified baby boy. He was your baby boy. However, tonight, you didn’t need his needy whinges no matter how much your core complained otherwise. He had gotten home shortly after you, all the while huffing and puffing about his new lecturer and how strict he was with his marking. You had hummed along with his complains while he took off his shoes, throwing his backpack aside and had made his way over to you towards the counter where you’d been standing, looking over some paperwork while you sipped on your freshly brewed coffee.

He had wrapped you into a warm back hug – the boy was all heat, always – resting his head on your shoulder with a pout that could give a toddler a run for his money when he noticed your lack of response to his nuzzling in the crook of your neck, no doubt, trying to get you to reciprocate and coddle him like you usually did to make him feel better. You had warmed up to him, and only for him, a lot. But apparently, not enough for Jungkook.

“Noona,” He whined again, pressing tighter against your back, his taller stature looming over yours when he stands straighter, annoyed at your lack of reaction to his pouting face.

“Hmm… go have dinner, it’s in the fridge.” He made a noise in the back of his throat, much like a whine, poking head in front of your face, trying to block your way of the documents you were currently perusing.

“Jungkook, not now. Eat your dinner or go play overwatch please.” It was apparent that you were done with the conversation. At your stony dismissal, he huffed, but nonetheless, went and sat at the dining table, stabbing his fork in the plate. Clearly showing his annoyance and that he was less than happy with you. At that point, you barely heard anything besides the ringing in your ears and the pounding headache that had a hold of you since this morning. You really needed to have all the paperwork sorted tonight or you would be in deep shit. Jungkook could wait. His brattiness always chose the most inappropriate of times to surface.

He stared at you all the while he stabbed his food to mush before taking a bite. You could almost feel his eyes burning a hole in your forehead. When he was done with his food, he made his way over to the sink, noisily throwing his plate in the dish washer after rinsing it. You knew he wanted to get a rise out of you and he damned well almost did.

“I’m done.” Raising an eyebrow without sparing him a glance, you made a noise of confirmation that your heard him, barely.

“Noona,” you continued to nod to yourself reading over all the terms and conditions of the new contract. Jungkook scoffed, setting his hands on his hips.

“Can you at least look at me?” Slamming your hands down on the counter, you looked at him square in the eyes with a stern face that had the blood rushing to his face, flustered.

“And what Jungkook? Can you please-,” exhaling loudly, “let me finish this? I don’t have time for your whining right now. Go play the new game I bought you and not a peep out of you. Understood?” Your demanding voice had him gulping, knowing the unspoken punishment was just lurking the corner. He was already treading on thin ice. Hoping that sent him the message that you were not to be disturbed, you turned back to your documents.

You continued to ignore him while he muttered to himself, walking over to the couch in your penthouse, turning on the gaming console.

It had been about 3 hours since you had last spoken to Jungkook. He’d played on the Xbox for a while before he’d resorted to watching Netflix on your couch. It had been halfway into Iron Man that you’d stopped hearing his commentary on the movie. You’d finally finished with the paperwork, made sure there were no loose ends and no errors before the big day of the official signing. Giving your limbs a much needed stretch, you yawned, feeling unbelievably tired. Knowing how much you’d neglected Jungkook also didn’t have you feeling so hot. He could hold a grudge for an impressively long amount of time. Lucky for you, you knew just how to make it up to him.

Walking over to the large L shaped couch and his figure curled on it with his hands tucked in between his knees had you feeling weak in yours. He held such an air of innocence even when he simply slept. The unmistakable content look on his gentle face almost had you turning back and letting him nap some more, knowing how frustrated he was before he fell asleep. Smiling, you walked over to the fridge and grabbed a box of banana milk that you always had stacked in your fridge. The boy was a sucker for banana milk. He’d probably give away his bank account details if you gave him enough of it.

You sat beside his sleeping figure, stabbing the straw in to the box and setting it beside you. Putting your hands beside his head, cradling it, you kissed his forehead, whispering his name to shake him out of his slumber. You continued to give him soft eskimo kisses as he groaned and shook his head, too overcome with drowsiness to attempt to shake it away. The chuckle you’d been biting back escaped as you took in the pout that was starting to form once again on his face. There was once a time you thought you hated boys. Then came a period you thought you hated high maintenance boys (you’d been told by your best friend that male versions of you reciprocated that feeling). But here you were with Jungkook. A boy AND very high maintenance.

“Jungkook, wake up darling.” You nuzzled his nose as he finally stretched his arms above his head, peeking at you with an eye open as his handsome face turned into a frown, likely remembering he was mad at you. You grabbed the banana milk and handed it to him, happily taking advantage of his weakness to get in his good graces. His face instantly lit up and all you wanted to do was scream. He was too adorable. Too good and easily pleased for his own benefit.

“You can’t bribe me to like you with this.” He spoke around the straw in his mouth, sipping on it as he sat up slightly, allowing your arms to wrap around his shoulders and pull him into you. You grinned, looking down with your eyes closed before raising them up to his face again.

“I know, babe. I’m sorry I yelled okay? You need to realise when noona is stressed and needs to be left alone.” The seriousness of your tone had him listening carefully to your every word. Sighing he nodded, looking down, most likely understanding your difficult position. He always did. He was too good for you.

“I’m sorry, too. I just was so annoyed at my professor today!” He huffed again, sticking out his bottom lip for good measure.

“How come baby? What happened?” Seeing you interested in wanting to know about his day, Jungkook visibly perked up, eagerly telling you about how hard he worked on his last project and got 85%.

“That’s amazing Jungkook! That’s something to be proud of, considering how much of an ass he sounds like. Cheer up honey.” You kissed his lips softly, keeping it chaste and sweet.  

Of course, Jungkook being Jungkook, he chased after your lips when you pulled away. Eyes half closed as he tried to pull you closer, throwing the empty milk box on the side. You smirked, holding his face between your palms and pushing him back down.

“Behave, baby.” Whining had seemed to become Jungkook’s favourite tonight, as he did just that, pulling you on top of his frame. One of the insanely lust inducing facts that you’d learned about Jungkook was his insatiable sexual appetite. First, he’d seemed to be too reluctant and shy to do so much as slip his tongue in your mouth and all the previous encounters had been initiated by you. Slowly, he’d developed into a man possessed to have his cravings satisfied. Needily rutting against you as he once again buried his face in your neck. He was greedy. But you were more than happy to provide what he desired.

“Noona,” whining breathlessly and you had barely held him for more than a few moments, “need you.”

“What do you need baby?” He knew you liked to drag it out, milk the moment until he was so needy, so beside himself that tears pricked his eyes, begging you for some relief. He also knew you loved it when he was vocal, freely expressing his want with the way he whined and gasped and moaned, composing your favourite melody.

“S-Suck me, noona, please.” He whined low in his throat as you felt the trickle of arousal escape your core, heat travelling downwards and opening your body up to his gluttonous eyes. His shameless demand only spurred you on further. Jungkook had tugged his leg over yours, pushing his hardened length in your stomach, grinding brazenly, hoping you’d show him mercy, just for tonight. You were still biting your lips, looking down at his flushed face and needy, big button eyes fluttering and boring into yours before dipping them down towards your cleavage. He dragged his hands from your waist up, bringing your silk blouse along with him until you stopped them from ascending any further. He was whining again, nuzzling his face in your breasts through your blouse when not granted permission to take off your shirt. This time though, the noise lit a fire deep in your core instead of the chaste affection it incited in a more innocent context. Instead, you reached behind with both of your arms under the shirt, taking off your bra, slowly, making sure to watch Jungkook’s already breathless face and glazed eyes. He looked like he’d been drugged. Knowing it was you and your hands over him satisfied an almost cloying need inside you that was inexplainable. Inexplainable but attainable and only from having him.

You leaned back down after throwing your bra aside. Taking his face in your hands, you took his deep red lips in for another kiss. Thrusting your tongue into his mouth, letting it lead his own, you kissed him fervently enough to set his nerves on ablaze. He was so restless and beside himself that his sensual grinding had turned into desperate rutting of his hips against your damp sex through your panties, skirt ridden up to your waist. You placed your hands on his bottom, slowing down his pace to the sensual grind it was before, making him groan loudly in your mouth. He was young and by no means a virgin, but you often found yourself slowing him down. He was always eager to please and be pleased. The stamina of a bull, you thought bitterly on more than one occasion, knowing how mild paced you’d had sex before compared to your hectic life.

“Slow down baby, noona will give you what you need.” Jungkook moved down towards your chest, ignoring your warning and taking a pebbled nipple into his mouth through your silk blouse. You hissed at the harsh tug of his teeth on your nipple. Apparently Jungkook was in no mood of being obedient.

You almost had to wrestle his hands in to your hold as he sucked on your nipple through the fabric, pleasure flooding your nerves, setting them on fire as he tugged and tugged, slowly suckling afterwards to ease the pain. Your breathing was rough. Jungkook was being brattier than usual, not listening to a word so far. You resigned yourself to just let him be, get it out of his system. He was obviously showing his feelings from your spat earlier, rather than excessively voicing them. He pulled away from one just to switch to the other. The fabric of your blouse now sticking to your nipple, outlining the peak shamelessly. You left his hands beside him, dragging your own down to his hardened length. Jungkook was a very generously endowed man. The fact that his body and his cock didn’t match his face or personality was the hottest thing to you. He had no idea how sexy it was to you that he fucked like a porn star, however, possessed the temperament of a timid mouse. His acquiescent demeanour was your weakness. It only made you want to have him even more. You granted a harsh tug on his cock, halting his movements on your breast, using your hand that was cradling him to your chest to tug his gasping face away from it.

“Enough.” Voice callous, sending shivers down his brawny torso. He whimpered lowly, tugging on his bottom lip. Your hand continued to move on his hard length, lubricated from the excessive pre-cum smeared on the tip. It was messy and you loved messy.

“I want your cock in my mouth.” You purred lowly beside his ear, hearing him gulp. Slowly, you sat up, sliding down his body, Jungkook watching you with dim eyes, pupils dilated, such apparent lust swimming in his irises. Sliding off your silk blouse, you discarded it to the side along with his jeans and underwear in one swoop. You leaned down, eyes level with his own, landing open mouthed kisses to his pelvis, trailing them down to the cherry red head of his leaking cock. He was unbelievably hard and intimidatingly engorged. It made you all the more wet, knowing you’ll get to feel him soon. You began by starting at the base of his shaft with your tongue and working your way up towards the tip. He was trembling. His skin felt scorching and clammy as the temperature seemed to rise around you despite the open plan space.

“Noona, noona!” Jungkook was almost heaving, resisting the urge to pull on your head and shove you down his cock. He wondered if this is what heaven felt like. He’d ask you that question if he wasn’t busy trying not to die because he would rather experience this feeling in this life than wait for the next.

“Yes, baby?” You kept up your licking as he stared at you, pupils blown, his mouth hanging open. “What do you want my darling?”

“I want your mouth noona, please suck me, suck my cock noona, p-please.” He whined shamelessly, moaning loudly when his wish was granted. This is the point where Jungkook lost all his inhibitions and chased your touch without his reticent nature afflicting him. Finally reaching the tip, you were rewarded with a few drops of pre-cum that you licked up with your tongue, quickly swallowing him down. Slowly feeling the veiny warmth of his luscious cock as you moved up and down on it. Working it with your tongue. Jerking it with one hand while the other gently pressed on the underside of his scrotum. All the while desperate moans of ‘noona’ and your name when he got too carried away were sounding the walls of your penthouse. Jungkook had always been vocal and it was your weakness. He was either quiet and reserved or bratty and loud. The later usually in more compromising situations as this one.

You slowly worked your way down the veiny shaft with your tongue and with your other hand holding and slowly jerking his cock.

“F-Fuck! Y-Yes just like that noona, take my cock,” He whimpered loudly, his shirt now discarded on the floor as his torso glistened with a light sheen of perspiration, “I’m gunna cum noona, oh god.” Holding his cock deep in your throat, you finally lifted your head up and off his dick, spitting saliva all over his engorged dick. His desperate pleas for you to finish him off were mostly a catalyst to your already hedonistic desires at this moment. Giving head had never appealed so much to you before Jungkook. In fact, it was almost degrading to you considering your stature to almost all your partners before. Though, it never occurred to you when it came to Jungkook. First you mistook it as pity on the young man but you were soon realising that your interest in foreplay was not merely a phase. There was something more than was you felt on the surface which was becoming harder to ignore. One last time you put your face directly above his cock and took a deep breath, sweat dripping onto the mushroom tip from your forehead you finally sunk down again. Jungkook didn’t think he even had control of his body as he thrust upward, pushing his cock even further down your throat. Pleasurable tears fell down your face as you continued to hold Jungkook's cock in your throat. Finally, barely able to breathe you pulled your head back allowing his cock to escape your mouth as you gasped for air. Threads of saliva trailed down from your mouth to his beautiful cock. Continuing to bob up and down, going deep but not nearly as deep as you had been, your adoration of Jungkook's beautiful cock had him soon ready to explode. Jungkook looked at you in panic, breathing heavily.

“Noona I’m gunna cum! tell me w-where.” He almost pleaded as you sat up slightly away from his cock.

"Come on baby, give it to me," you instructed Jungkook as he jerked his cock, the engorged head only inches from your face.

You opened your mouth and Jungkook aimed, shooting two ropes of cum almost directly into your mouth, some of it landing on your lips and chin. You quickly swallowed, gulping down his warm sticky cum. He looked beautifully wrecked. His skin flushed a deep pink, abs contracting and relaxing as he took deep breaths in. So vulnerable and uncut. Once his orgasm had subsided, he’d wasted no time in sitting up and pulling you into his lap.

“I came so hard noona, you’re so amazing, you’re so beautiful.” His words being pressed into your skin as he held you close to his naked body, hands now working on your skirt and panties, tugging them off.

“Anything for my baby,” You kissed him sweetly as your hand continued down to stroke his hardening cock again, exploring each other's mouths. You pulled away from his lips, caressing his cheek with your free hand.

“Noona is going to fuck you now, okay baby?” Jungkook moaned at your words nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Please, fuck me noona. I-I’m so hard for you.”

Slowly you placed your bare feet up on either side of his hips, then lowered your pussy over his cock. Instantly feeling the electricity of his huge member penetrating your pussy. When you were satisfied that you could get no more of his cock into your pussy, you began to bounce up and down on him, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning on his shoulder.

Enjoying the feeling of fullness that always comes from having Jungkook’s cock in your pussy. For the first time today Jungkook finally got to properly suck on your breasts. Pushing you back slightly as you continued to bounce up and down, you were thankful for the Pilates classes that kept you in shape. He gently sucked on your nipples, swirling his tongue over the areola of each tit. Sucking and biting each nipple your orgasm soon built up in your core. The combination of being on edge from the events before combined with the stresses of the day had you rushing towards your end faster than usual. So you turned around. Now facing forward, and began to really fuck Jungkook.

You pushed down until you could feel the head of his member nudge your cervical opening and sending a bite of pain up your torso. You stopped for a second leaning back to sweetly talk in Jungkook’s ear, "Baby, thrust upward as hard as you can, okay? Please do it for Noona." You smiled wickedly at him as he suddenly pushed upward as hard as he could, crying out with you. "Oh God, Jungkook!" you cried out loudly as the pain of his thrust hit you. In seconds that pain was replaced by pleasure as his cock penetrated depths of your cunt. "Don't stop," Urging him on as Jungkook had started to slow down his rhythm thinking he hurt you. The overwhelming feelings had you so engrossed in your own little world and only when Jungkook squeezes his hands on your waist you glance down at where you’re both connected.

With Jungkook now penetrating your cunt fully you begin to ride him ferociously, fucking like animals. Your naked bodies made loud smacking sounds as you worked towards the inevitable climax. Sweat once again poured off of your naked body glistening in the light of the living room. You were getting tired with your continued rhythm on his cock and thankfully Jungkook noticed as he kissed up your back helping you maintain it.

“How about I turn you over now? Please,” He kissed your collarbone, “Wanna fuck noona.”

You gave into his pleading, getting off his lap and getting on all fours on the couch as Jungkook rested one knee on the couch and the other foot on the floor, gaining all leverage he needed. You were drunk on each other's bodies and it was evident in the way Jungkook’s eyes were glazed over, never taking them off of you. This was not the usual and the fact that you allowed him to take over only further showed him how past your typical temperament you were.

Having positioned himself on the seat he looked over at you with a mischievous grin on his handsome face. Jungkook stroking his now well lubricated cock, grabbed it with his left hand and guided it to your pussy. As he slowly entered, you let out a muffled groan, adjusting to his size in this position. Somehow, he felt larger and harder as the rigid shaft dragged across your vaginal walls, filling you up inch by inch. And then he began to slowly fuck you, pushing your body forward a bit with every thrust, getting into a rhythm. His cock working your pussy felt unbelievable. With sweat pouring out of your body and dripping on the couch, you felt the rush of you orgasm building as you instructed Jungkook. "Faster baby, please," The more Jungkook gave, the lesser it felt. He was addicting, enchanting and like a true addict, you always wanted more. Jungkook began ploughing into your cunt with reckless abandon. Making shameful smacking sounds as your sweaty bodies collided together and before you knew it, your torso was collapsing on the couch as Jungkook held firmly on to your hips.

“You look so sexy Y/N. You feel so good, fuck.” When you turned your head to the side, eyes sliding back to glance at his face, the view only brought you closer. Jungkook’s eyebrows were furrowed in amazement as his eyes were securely stuck to the view of where your bodies made illicit contact.

“A-Am I doing well Noona? I’ve b-been holding off for you.” You nodded your head as best as you could, knowing he was well aware of his skill but always wanted to hear it from you. And you were more than happy to oblige.

“Yes honey, you’re so good.”

“God, it’s never enough. I wanna fuck you f-forever Noona.” A hiccup to let you know he was choking up which wasn’t so out of the ordinary as what he says next. “P-Please don’t leave me.”

The brokenness his words convey is so honest and sincere it’s like being stamped directly on the surface of your skin. And you’re not given much time to mull it over when Jungkook’s rhythm behind you turns frantic, almost as if he’s also realised his slip up. It for sure makes you forget though. Now needing to cum, you matched his rhythm and pushed back harder, sweat still dripping from your body onto the couch. You felt an incredible rush of pleasure wash over your body listening to Jungkook whine with each thrust, muttering about how perfect you felt on his cock.

“Baby I’m c-cuming,” You moaned in urgency, prompting Jungkook to get impossibly faster.

“Cum for me noona, want you dripping over my cock.”

You barely kept your balance on the seat as your orgasm exploded, your cunt dripping with Jungkook's cock still ploughing into you, the liquid nectar gushing onto the couch below as he helps you climb the bridge of your ecstasy.

Jungkook slowed his rhythm down, knowing you needed a minute but his cock never really stopped gently thrusting your cunt.

He began to pick up his rhythm again hammering your pussy with his thick girth over and over. Your pussy convulsing around his cock in oversensitivity, but you wanted him to cum again. At that moment you didn't care. All you could think about was how good his cock felt inside you and how good his cum was going to feel in you again. Now working harder than ever before, Junngkook's cock kept battering your dripping pussy. The smacking sounds of your flesh louder than ever. "N-noona." you knew that he was telling you he was ready. "In me baby. Cum inside noona’s pussy.” you instructed. Filling you up to the brim. Slowing down as he continued to spurt inside, holding on to your hips as his eyebrows were furrowed, concentrating on milking all his cum from his cock. You waited for him to snap out of his daze as he came to a halt, reluctantly pulling out. You winced slightly as he exited your entrance at the inflamed lips of your pussy. As he slid down to the floor, you took his place on the couch, laying back to give your aching limbs a rest as your vision took time to clear.

What you weren’t prepared for was a tongue snaking its way to your cum-filled pussy, startling you.

"Jungkook." You cried out a little too loud as Jungkook's tongue first began to explore your lips. He began by placing soft kisses all around your pussy lips. Gently using his tongue to massage the outer labia of your cunt. His hands caressing your stomach and then reaching back down to spread your thighs wide.

“You’re so yummy noona, I want to eat all of our cum,” his words making you moan even louder. Jungkook was just as filthy as you and it made you even wetter. Meanwhile, his tongue had begun to work his way into your pussy. Jungkook took his time with your pussy reciprocating the worship that you had shown his cock. His tongue began to work inward further licking all around quickly but not viciously, allowing your pleasure to build. His eyes peaked over in to your own, only his nose visible above your mound. And you can’t help but bring your hands down to cradle his face close to you. There was no mistaking Jungkook’s current position between your legs was obscene, objectively speaking. But somehow, it didn’t feel that way. At least not when he looked at you like you were his life source. It was overwhelming in such an intimate way and you couldn’t tear your eyes away no matter how much your mind screamed at you to put some sort of methodical barrier between you two. And if it wasn’t for his tongue slipping up to your clit, you would have most likely been lost in his twinkling eyes for who knows how long.

“Gently, baby.” You hiss as each swipe of his tongue is like a shock to your core. Once he closes his lips around the bundle of nerves, you let go with a whimper; your climax short but powerful. Jungkook only stopped his licking for a few seconds when you came and was now back to work on your now very wet and cum soaked pussy. After a few minutes of just licking up all your juices, he stopped once you started wincing, having had enough for the day. You caught your breath as you pulled him up beside you, laying his head down on your chest as he draped your body with his own, wrapping his arms around you.

After a few minutes of silence, you heard him say the words that lingered on the tip of your tongue.

“I love you Y/N.”

You simply smiled, stroking his hair, tugging his lips softly on your own, not kissing just resting.

Hoping to buy time and figure out what the fuck to do.

a/n: feedback appreciated, esp the constructive kind. :)))