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nik-the-bik · 2 years

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"Finally, Acknowledgement" - Jekyll/Utterson Fanfic

Self-indulgent? Me? Never!

Summary: Young Henry Jekyll writes a letter to Gabriel Utterson. He has a lot on his mind and says maybe a little too much.

This exists within this elaborate headcanon I’ve come up with that lingers a lot during Jekyll & Utterson’s time in college. I imagine that most of the intense moments of their personal relationship happened when they were much younger, and over time they eased into the dynamic they have in the original canon out of a need for something effortless, painless, and predictable (with both not wholly satisfied but unable to articulate why).

Content Warnings: glossing over Victorian-era attitudes towards homosexuality and sexuality in general, brief descriptions of sexual acts, alcohol mention, religion mention, general angst warning.

***

Dearest Gabriel John Utterson,

I fear I owe you a massive apology. You must think me the worst of correspondents, and frankly you would be right. Yes, I have received the letters you’ve been sending these last few months. Yes, I know that you’re asking after me – even prying for information when you write to Lanyon. He showed me the last letter you sent him – most of it was fussing over me.

My sincerest apologies for the lack of response. It is not meant out of malice, dear Gabriel. I have tried, believe me, I have tried too many times, to write to you. The problem is that no letter of mine can possibly fix what I worry I have done to our friendship before your parting. My silence must be compounding these mistakes, I know, but I fervently believe the only remedy is to make a clean breast of everything, explaining why I lashed out so cruelly when you left. Hopefully that explains my hesitation in sending this to you before now.

My Gabriel, you have long been my dearest friend and confidant, and I know that I can trust you with anything. I know you will have the discretion to handle what I’m about to confess with grace and will not allow these words meant for you alone to reach anyone else. That knowledge still does not calm the terror in my heart as I try to form the right sentences – so I will put it simply.

Gabriel Utterson, I adore you and can’t stand to be without you.

There was a day about a year and a half ago as we were completing exams – do you recall? It was a hot summer day, and most of our mutual friends were done with their classes for the time being. You had completed your last paper for the term, and our friends wanted to let off some stress with sport, kicking around a ball out in the green and generally roughhousing. I had one more test yet to take, so I sat aside from everyone else with my textbook in hand, trying to study. You had wanted to sit out with me and help me prepare, but I insisted that you run off with everyone else. It was hard to focus with the noise of the games, and I kept glancing back up from my book with curiosity.

I heard someone shout your name, and I lifted my head to find you had run close to where I was situated. You stopped to intercept a pass and sent the ball back along to another teammate, but before your attention returned to the game, your eyes caught mine. I had not seen you so alive – your hair was slightly disheveled, and your skin glistened lightly from the sun beating into your dewy face, but there was a gleeful glint in your eyes as your face broke out into the most joyful grin I had ever seen, and my heart stopped when I realized it was fully directed at me. You breathlessly panted “hello” at me before running back into the game, and in that brief, glorious instant I realized you were the most beautiful person I had ever had the pleasure of looking upon.

I know there was no cruel intention on your part, nor any intention at all, but from that moment forth, I was tortuously smitten.

I got no further studying done. I’m not sure if you ever noticed that I spent the rest of the time watching you, studying the movement of your body, admiring you. I could find myself admiring the bodies of some of the other boys too, but yours drew my eyes the most. That day was pure curiosity as I tried to pinpoint the cause of my sudden interest in your figure. I had casually appreciated its fineness when we used to dress in our shared room, but now there was a new layer to that appreciation, colored by a selfish tint of desire.

Desire bloomed.

Did you notice that I was much more distant from that moment on? That I had a harder time speaking clearly around you, that my eyes found reasons to not look directly at yours? You flustered me; I couldn’t look at you without acknowledging that I also deeply wanted you, a want that was powerful and surprising enough to terrify me. After a few weeks, I could no longer deny that there was an attraction to men that I had stubbornly ignored my whole life up until now, and a special attraction to you in particular.

I was enticed by the warmth of your eyes; kind, understanding, gentle. I pleasured in the sound of your voice; soft, steady, and relaxing like the trickle of a brook. I admired the fineness of your hands, surprisingly dexterous as they repaired buttons on your shirts (you would make an excellent surgeon, my dear, if you ever chose to give up law and take up making sutures). I adored the soft wave of your hair, the effortless grace with which you moved, the air with which you held yourself, and the compassion you extended even to strangers. My dearest Gabriel, you are immaculate, and when you used to mindlessly undress in the comfort of our room after a long day, and I chanced a glimpse of your porcelain skin, the angle of your hips, the muscles of your thighs, I could only bite my lip and tear my gaze away to prevent my thoughts from wandering into the savage. You frightened me, and I could feel myself coil up as a fire burned through my belly, knowing that one misstep from either of us, and I would be unable to stop myself from springing on you.

Night after night, I lay awake agonizing over the steady sound of your breathing in the bed across from my own, fighting every impulse to leap up and cross the gap to join you, dreaming of arms wrapped tightly around you in your bed, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, lips dancing across your skin as my hands hungrily took you for my own. In the darkest of these fancies you were little more than flesh I could sink my nails and teeth into, and I spent too many nights running to the privacy of the bathroom and fumbling with trembling hands to find some respite. I’d slink back to bed more calm but ashamed, hating myself for harboring such carnal desires for someone so perfect and chaste as yourself.

I soon sought out the company of other men. It isn’t hard to find men of similar persuasion once you choose to search. There’s a tiny, dark pub not far from where we used to live that is secretly home to a bathhouse, and there you could run into any character of man. For a brief time, I was a popular commodity there – a young, tall newcomer – and I got to have my pick of companions. I made sure to remain a stranger and enjoyed the attention of some beautiful strangers in turn. It wasn’t enough. Even during the deepest throes of pleasure, I was plagued with the wish that the men writhing beneath me were you – you, you, you. I still longed for my lips to be blessed enough to breathe your name in that ecstatic prayer, and each short-lived fling left me with an ache in my soul to see you bare and vulnerable, and also be vulnerable to you. I’d trade the time I spent with them all for a single moment with you, my darling, a moment where I would happily succumb to any demand you may have of me.

Those nights I’d wander home in the dark, slightly drunk, and find a light still glowing in our room at even the latest hours. You’d always lift your head from your pillow, wipe away the sleep from your eyes, and smile at me affectionately, glad to know I was home. Do you realize that you broke my heart each time? You fussed and worried over me, unaware of my depravity and obsession with you that was the cause of this new unexplained behavior. You never pried into what I was doing, although part of me wishes you had, so that I could confess all. Oh, my kind, thoughtful Gabriel. You are too wonderful a friend for your own good.

Months trickled away and my insatiable lust for you (let’s be frank and call it by its true name) only grew, but I soon found myself missing your innocent companionship so desperately that I was able to bat the sin away for a few hours at a time to enjoy a night out with a group of our shared friends, or a deeply personal conversation between you, myself, and Lanyon. It took a while, but once I felt comfortable enough to rekindle that genuine friendship, I was able to temporarily quiet my basest urges and simply enjoy the pleasure of your company again. I could see that you were glad things were back to a semblance of normalcy, too, rather than that stifled geniality I had put up. Those kind favors that you had always paid me became more frequent than I had remembered. I must confess that I relished the extra attention, and I found myself blushing like a child and going out of my way to dote on you as well. I felt more comfortable enjoying the warmth of your smile over the fire of my lust, which still reared its mighty head nightly. My dreams were a confused mash of the two, with tender whispers and warm glances melting into eager, impatient kisses that twisted into me ravaging your body, drawing red lines across your flawless skin.

How I coveted you, Gabriel.

I still do.

You might remember that night about a month before you left where our group went out to several bars. I have never known you to be a heavy drinker, but something in you wanted to keep pace with me that night, and you became more intoxicated than I had ever seen you. You began the night tense and uncertain, but soon you stared at me with heavily lidded eyes and your smile became more of a smirk, and I began to worry that through the haze of alcohol you had somehow discovered what you hadn’t while sober. Earlier than either of us anticipated, I was helping you home, secretly delighting in the weight of your body pressed up against mine for support, arm draped across my shoulders while I guided you by the waist.

I don’t think you remember what happened when we made it back.

I helped you tumble onto your bed, and you immediately made room and gestured for me to sit next to you. I happily obliged, appreciating that alcohol made you even more mellow and friendly than usual, rather than loud like some of our other acquaintances. You began to ask me questions about your older brothers, wondering if I thought them more adequate than you. I insisted that I liked you best while you played with the hem of my jacket between your thumb and forefinger, a gentle, mild act of physical affection that nevertheless caused my stomach to fill with butterflies. Without thinking, I brushed the hair out of your eyes, and you caught my hand and pressed it tight to your cheek. My heart stopped and my eyes widened at the sudden gesture, and I quickly snatched my hand away and stood up, breathing hard.

I could see a strong sadness fill your eyes at my sudden rebuff, but what was I to do? Your innocent, friendly affection would have led me down a path far more perverse than either of us was prepared to explore, especially when you were in this state. I would have corrupted you, done something that we would both loathe me for in the morning.

Still, I did not expect the tears you shed.

I tried to calm you, apologizing, and sat next to you again. You flung your arms around my neck, and I held you there until you quieted yourself, heart aching the whole time. At last, you pulled away and laid yourself down, but you grabbed my arm and pulled me down next to you, forcing me to lay close on the tiny single bed. You were soon fast asleep, and it was then my turn to lay there and weep, hating myself for not being worthy enough to deserve the regard you had for me. I wanted nothing more than to be half the man you thought me, wanted so desperately to hold you close to my chest but didn’t dare let my arms take hold of you, knowing that I wouldn’t let go if I did. It was now clear to me. I was not simply subjecting you to being the object of my twisted fantasies and carnal desires. In dreaming after you, I was actively hurting you as my friend.

By the time you were up the next morning, I had already gone out.

You know that I was distant for the next few weeks. I wanted to repair our friendship but knew I couldn’t do it feeling the way I did about you. I tried to show you kindness from afar. Bringing home your favorite tea, organizing your desk for you while you were out. But I kept further away than before, I couldn’t bring myself to be alone with you again if I could help it. I spent a day at church, trying to pray for some freedom from my passions, but quickly gave up that route when I felt dirty simply for being there, blasphemer that I was. I was in the labs daily, throwing myself into my studies.

Lanyon saw me more than he was used to, as I was desperate to seek a distraction that wouldn’t lead to me thinking about you. He was how I found out about you moving away from London for that opportunity with the law firm in Glasgow.

He didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t know a thing about it.

I came home to you and confronted you. Childish, I see now. I don’t need to repeat the foul things I said about you or your decision; stupid, cruel things borne out of some backwards belief that I could guilt you into staying here with me. I can’t take them back. I hate that I said them, hate myself for my brutality. I apologize for everything.

While I was furious in the moment, you never once matched my anger. You saw right through me, knew why I was behaving irrationally, called me out on my hypocrisy, since I had actively avoided you for so long that you hadn’t had a chance to say anything to me sooner. I stormed back to Lanyon that night, and he offered the spare bed. Regrettably, I stayed with him for the next few days, unable to quell my anger or heartbreak enough to face you despite how quickly the time of your departure approached. I half hoped ignoring it meant it wouldn’t happen. Another childish mistake.

I cannot apologize to you enough for my embarrassing behavior. I have only dug the trench that was separating us deeper. Simply put, I can’t control myself around you, Gabriel. You rob me of my rationality.

Lanyon dragged me to your going away party. I half-avoided you all night, even though I could see that you wanted to speak with me. I knew my heart wouldn’t survive saying any kind of goodbye, and I would probably make an ass of myself if my tongue got the better of me and I began saying all of this to your face instead of hiding behind my pen like I am now. I left the bar early, engaged in some frivolous indulgence. When I later stumbled towards our home and saw the light still shining from our window, I turned around, back into the black of night. It’s not what I wanted for you, for us, but I’m too much a coward.

As you know, I did make it to the train station.

Your smile as our eyes met was kinder than I deserve. The train was starting to pull away, and you were waving your final goodbyes to the party who had gathered to see you off. I was too far away to say anything, but you saw me. You smiled. You raised a hand goodbye. And when the train had pulled completely out of sight, I collapsed on the first empty seat I crossed.

I don’t know how long I sat there. I don’t even remember how I managed to get home, but I remember stepping through the threshold into our tiny, shared dorm, seeing your empty desk, wardrobe, and neatly made up bed, and becoming a sobbing heap. I clutched your pillow to my heart and screamed into it, in a greater agony than I had ever felt.

I realized far, far too late that I was madly in love with you.

I’m in love with you, Gabriel John Utterson.

I’ve always loved you.

Even before that day out in the sun, even before I was haunted by my physical attraction to you, I was in love with you. My lust is just a byproduct of my love, a warped physical manifestation of the enduring passion of my soul. I have held you in higher regard than anyone else I have ever known, for your kind heart is more earnest and genuine than the rest of mankind put together. I admire your loyalty, your compassion, your calm rationality, your intelligence, even your ridiculous ability to string together a row of mind-grating puns.

I love you, Gabriel.

I miss you.

I’m so sorry, for everything. I do not deserve to stand as your friend. I confess everything to you now, not as a desperate plea for your affection in return, or even as a wish for your forgiveness. I simply ask for your understanding.

You are my heaven and my hell, my darling, paradoxically the greatest source of both joy and sorrow that I have ever known.

I love you, endlessly, desperately, selfishly. It’s not a love that someone like you deserves.

You are allowed to be repulsed by me and my feelings. I wouldn’t blame you for a moment. You didn’t ask for this, and you’re not at fault for any of it. My greatest hope is that you might pity poor Henry Jekyll long enough to allow him to float through a few chapters of your life as a mere acquaintance. Anything more than becoming just a memory is a blessing to me.

You, Gabriel, are a blessing to me.

Beautiful, wonderful, you.

I’m so sorry, my dear.

Devoted to you, and only you, forever and always,

Henry

*****

The pen clattered from Henry’s hand and onto the desk. He rubbed his eyes and left his seat to throw himself onto his bed.

In the morning, without reading anything he had written the night prior, Henry folded the letter and brought it to his lips. He slipped it into an envelope and tucked it away, unaddressed, in his desk drawer. Within the week, the letter joined all the others in the fireplace, smoldering away into nothingness.

#henriel #the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde #jekyll and hyde #doctor jekyll #henry jekyll #gabriel utterson #mr utterson #jekyll/utterson #jekyll and hyde fanfic #nikki tries to be a writer #i churned this out yesterday and took some time this evening to tidy up but mostly this was just all done in one #critique would be nice #hooooo boy this one was all for me friends #i've literally been concocting this au/headcanon/whatever for like 2 years?

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oraclekleo · 1 year

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@thescorpiourge + Sunghoon (Enhypen) - Sweet Romance Couple Tarot Reading

Disclaimer:

All readings have purely entertainment nature

I don’t know any of the celebrities personally

Don’t base life decisions purely on tarot readings

I can never guarantee any of what’s said in the reading

Before requesting, read the pinned post and appropriate linked post

Tarot readings are my hobby - I’m not obligated to accept any of the requests nor to complete them, it’s my choice, not duty

Waiting time is long, even several months

If you can’t wait, please, seek other tarot reader

Reading Info:

Rating: 18+

Reading Type: Single - Couple

Requested: Yes - No

Requester: @thescorpiourge

Deck: Tarot of the Divine

Spread: Sweet Romance

Questions:

The eyes meet across the room… (What captivates them about you)

Sweet scent lingering in the air… (What pulls them closer to you)

Only the brave ones… (What motivates them to approach you)

Words as sweet as honey… (What enchants them about you)

Lips like petals of a rose… (What makes them kiss you)

Love is a form of insanity… (What makes them fall in love with you)

Celebrity Info:

Full Name: Park Sung Hoon

Stage Name: Sunghoon

Group: Enhypen

DOB: 08.12.2002

Sun Sign: Sagittarius

Chinese Sign: Water Horse

Life Path Number: 6

Masterpost: Enhypen

Ko-fi - Voluntary Tip for Readings

@thescorpiourge + Sunghoon (Enhypen) - Sweet Romance

Park Sung Hoon

Deck: Tarot of the Divine

Spread: Sweet Romance

The eyes meet across the room… (What captivates them about you) [22] - III The Empress

Your natural kindness and creativity are the qualities to capture Sunghoon’s attention. He’s likely to notice the nearly motherly care you show towards other people, your open-mindedness when it comes to cultural differences and the healthy respect you have for everyone regardless of their appearance, background or customs. You are likely to avoid prejudices and if you have some (nobody is perfect) you try to realise them and fight them.

Sweet scent lingering in the air… (What pulls them closer to you) [10] - 6 of Pentacles

Your generosity is what lures Sunghoon closer to you. You like to give to people around you, whether they are actual gifts or simply your attention, affection, listening ear or shoulder to cry on. You might even struggle when you are the one on the receiving side, feeling all awkward because while you love to give, you don’t know exactly how to express your feelings when you are given something. The cute blush covering your face is likely to motivate Sunghoon to start giving you small tokens of his admiration in order to see your cheeks going red more often.

Only the brave ones… (What motivates them to approach you) [67] - Knight of Wands

Sunghoon is not likely to beat around the bush or spend months ogling you from a distance. He’s likely to be pretty direct and approach you without hesitation. He might even give a daring impression, stepping to you, interrupting whatever you were doing and claiming your attention. He’s likely to make you laugh as soon as he starts talking. The moment he puts his spell on you, it’s like the rest of the world stopped existing.

Words as sweet as honey… (What enchants them about you) [3] - VII The Chariot

You are the type to take control over your life and not let others tell you what to do (unless you ask them for their advice). If you have to choose, you would rather stay single than find yourself trapped in a toxic relationship. You’re pretty much independent and face challenges with courage. And Sunghoon admires this kind of attitude, he couldn’t respect someone who would sit down and cry whenever life knocks them down, expecting others to solve their problems for them. You deal with your issues yourself. You take the responsibility.

Lips like petals of a rose… (What makes them kiss you) [11] - 3 of Pentacles

The first kiss is likely to be teamwork (giving an entirely new dimension to ‘teamwork makes the dream work’). You are likely to go for the kiss spontaneously but both of you at the exact same moment. You might even bang your foreheads accidentally due to your eagerness and laugh at it. The more thought through kiss attempt follows and it’s a success. You are likely to instinctively cooperate in the kiss making it a breathtaking experience. You and Sunghoon feel so overwhelmed that you interrupt the kiss and blush shyly but it’s clear you’re not going to resist for long and indulge in another kiss.

Love is a form of insanity… (What makes them fall in love with you) [25] - 10 of Wands

You are both spending so much time together, experiencing so many fun activities that soon Sunghoon can’t even imagine a life without you. The realisation comes to him in the middle of a busy day, he’s got 1000 + 1 errands to run and tasks to complete but it’s that time of the day he always texts or calls you so he stops everything and grabs his phone as he’s staring at your name on the display, it suddenly clicks in his brain - that you have become his priority over everything else. And he’s likely to drop everything he planned for the day, rush to you, make you interrupt whatever you are doing and confess his feelings to you because he can’t simply hold it within his chest.

Thank you for reading!

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jonathankatwhatever · 11 months

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We’re all horrible in some ways, and we have to make choices about the ways we are. The worst part of this work, by far, is the hurt I’ve inflicted on Debbie. I can’t make up for that. And I know that at each step of the way, it seemed that hurt was less than the other hurt I would inflict, which really means, I think, that I never seriously pursued the idea of simply going away by myself, either by dying or by nearly disappearing and surviving at a subsistence level, which is an image I’ve always had because I know how quickly you can overcome disgust when you must. So, I think what this means is that I needed to keep this exact situation going because then there would be no work, and thus either I would be dead or I’d have lost my mind. What I’m doing is laying this out as threads because these appear within the focal field generated as my perception. Remember: I’m inside that now because we imagined the trumpet opening and closing to emit and to receive. While typing, I’m thinking of that opening expanding all the way to quadrant’s, to gs, and to Triangular, which attaches to Hexagonal over the 1-0Segment dividing line of the fD.

Here’s a question: why 10 from this perspective? I can see 6 lining up, so spin those 10 times and that’s the same as 2*5, which means 2 iterations of shift from 0 to 1, so the joining connects 0 to 0 over that shared 1, which is very cool because that means 0-1-0 is three 0’s (because 0 to 1 to 0 to 1 to 0 to 1) on each side, which is a form of SBE2 where the 1 between, which makes 7 acts as the szK or CM1, I think. CM1 is complicated. I mean here that 7 is where the processes have to balance so the SBE2 is true. Note that this is phrased in terms of what fits across the 0’s, meaning there’s a 1-0-1 version of this in which there are three 1’s.

So this means you take the chain above and it reads as 0-(1-0-1)-0-1, which the above takes as pairing to 1, when of course it could also pair to 0, meaning 10 ends at 1. Oh, I forgot to say I’m counting segments. So 0-1 is 1 count, and thus we end with one higher End count. That means 10 counts each hitting at 1 or one of them turns around and joins tail to tail. My thought was both happen, that the orientations could also be 1-0-1 starting, meaning by one count cycle so even to one is odd to the other. That is, after all, where even and odd come from: they are the grafting together of these counts, meaning there is always a pair that fits this. Easy example is birds, breeding pairs, then clusters of 3’s make another even, etc. From 3’s perspective, it’s just as even as 6 or 4 because it is a composite too, and composite in grid squares is gs process.

Example coming to me is an itch, where it itches, how much attention does it demand given what you are doing, etc. They’re all composites, meaning there is a whole, a set of all these inputs, which may only be able to be clumsily drawn, meaning its elements are parts of other sets where the action occurs which sends me information, like different reports from different parts of a vast battlefield. You mean, the end the war Storyline is real. I know that’s deeply connected to the Mission Storyline, but that says this is an inversion which is attempting to cure an infection caused by … but that’s at their level. At this level, it’s the result of awareness expanding without understanding how awareness works. Which means how we exist as Things.

One of the key features I’ve explored in my thinking is the need to inflict harm on others because you have had harm inflicted on you. This is key in male thinking, and I see it in a few forms. One is retribution, which expresses the ability to inflict harm. That is, if you strip away moral shading, when hit, there is a build-up of process, immediate and over time, so you can respond to being hit, and thus there is a tendency inherent in that 1-0Segmenting, in the space that this generates, for that to come out. We see that a lot in societies. In history, for example, it often takes a minor ‘provocation’ to unleash violence. The argument is clearly similar to forces building up, except we are saying there is actual motive pressure behind them because they have a probability of occurrence within the formation of grid squares. The magic that flows from finite construction is astounding: gs are finite, so we can understand the forms, the limits, the constraints which appear within infinite processes.

Another form is that which roots more in male aggression. There is aggression within males. It’s inherent to being male because otherwise you may not get to mate, you may get killed by other males, etc. As awareness has expanded, male aggression finds the cracks which connect. Somewhat like the issue I have with HAL in 2001: with floating point arithmetic, HAL would necessarily make mistakes. I’m trying to say that what appears as a number may be the wrong branch of the actual number. By branch, I mean interpretations, meaning how it represents gs process to be a real number, so if you stop here, then the meaning may change later depending on the precision required. I know that wasn’t a very good metaphor, so I’ll try another.

I’m trying to say that as we become aware, a male may become aware of his male aggression and be less able to control it, even as more avenues exist in which he can develop feelings of rage, anger, etc. Social media reflects the state of awareness about our actions, about the meaning of our actions, about how we act out. I mean past the Instagram and TikTok level to other social media, where it can get very dark. These are outlets for the processes we describe.

————

I’m able to be more honest, more able to get out of the way of decisions, maybe not screwing up so much. Here’s the thing: my decision-making is terrific when I’m within constraints, but I’m terrible outside them. If told, this is what you do, I can do it. When asked to pick, I pick badly. That’s where the cracks appear within my structure, where the bad ideas become real.

Here’s one. I was struck one night by the way the big tree looked in the light at night from the stairwell. From that view, you could see lights but only rarely see a person move. I liked to sit there. I remember catching a short look at a girl, whose name I don’t remember, who I think told the Dean because he brought it up with me. I was attracted to the image of this stark tree in a cold light in a pseudo-village in which you mostly could see just lights, not actual life, and I can admit I thought about who or what I’d see but not because I wanted to peep on someone. So I never did that again. The Dean knew how odd I was and changed the subject to ask about some other kids who exhibited troubling to him behavior. I had a friend who used to leap over the entranceways and he wanted to know if she was potentially suicidal. I told her that made her happy, that she was elated by the feeling, and that she felt safe doing it.

I’ve become much better at controlling myself, but being a man means making errors, lots of them, and it requires finding a pathway through all the choices you’re presented. That’s true in every person, but the man’s perspective … wait, how does this square with gender identity? One of the main conceptions is that I’m twisted inside versus outside, and that I could see this in perhaps greater detail because I am also twisted physically left and right, and thus internally left and right. So, what I’m saying is the missing governor is a result or consequence of me being doubly twisted? Spins me round, dislocates me in space. Here’s what I’m seeing: take a grid squares sheet and image each gs pair over the center is malleable and can twist. Leave one alone and twist the other. Now switch. Now do both. Odds of getting it correct within me is lower because one twist may not align with the other to the proper depth, which brings back floating point error as a way of expressing that idea. More degrees of freedom in the choice is like introducing yaw to pitch and roll.

And you think you’re right side up when you’re upside down.

The man perspective as shell perspective, which we’ve defined as an End on a 1-0Segmenting, with the male perspective as internal perspective. So, I think my perspective is always at the End away from the man perspective, meaning I feel great divergence, and thus the many years of trying to get along. And the angst in that relationship faded as I shifted hands back to left, which connected to so much math I had to accept that as true. So this then maps to a smoothing out of the flight, with yaw controlled so the pitch and roll can be adjusted.

In other words, as an internal to me proof: those ideas map to a gs sheet with malleable quadrants which basically formed knots that needed to be untwisted, exactly as the tensioning work we developed together has said. Wow. I didn’t see that coming.

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killmehe · 2 years

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Some Kind of Wonderful

Summary — In which your friend Katsuki decides to help you 'practice' for your upcoming date.

Pairing — Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

WC — 5507

Tags — MDNI - Minors Do Not Interact, Aged-up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Making out, Implied Chubby Reader, Literally the tiniest hint toward a boner, Implied Mirio/Reader, No Beta

Katsuki’s patience snaps in half when you let out your fifth sigh of the afternoon. He stomps his boots on the ground, slaps his paperback book down, and he wires his jaw tight. The cherry on top of his hissy fit comes in the form of a heated glare tossed in your direction, where you stand hunched under a Honda Civic. “What’s your fuckin’ problem? And don’t give me that ‘nothing’ bullshit.”

With the purse of your lips and the scratch of your thoroughly used pencil, you ignore his outburst and take it for what it is — an opening to whine about your troubles to Katsuki, guilt-free. You just don’t have it in you to be anything less than transparent about the heaving, wistful breaths, even if you should give him shit about his tone. It’s Katsuki, anyways — when you’ve been friends with him this long, sometimes you have to give up the ghost of indignation with how he extends his ass-backward concern.

You glance up at him while you take inventory of supplies, gauging his irritation while you run over the checklist in your head. “I’m a little nervous about my date.”

He doesn’t contain his almost audible eye roll, crossing two big arms in front of his chest while scoffing at you. ”What’s there to be nervous over? It’s just fucking Togata.”

Funnily enough, you already recognize how ridiculous it is to be this concerned about Mirio. And that’s no slight to him; He’s unassuming, sweet, and easygoing with an air that has most people feeling safe and secure. On top of it all, he asked you on a date because he was the one with the massive crush, not you. You were sitting fairly pretty with the current situation but the hot pinpricks in your stomach beg to differ.

”I know, but—“ you falter for a second, trying to figure out if this is really the type of thing you want to talk about with Katsuki of all people. He’ll probably call you an idiot and go back to his boring nonfiction without another word on the subject — there’s also a chance that he’ll resort to mocking and you’ll never hear the end of it. At least that’s how he normally reacts when Denki complains about being left on read or when Kirishima bumbles around all red-faced after receiving compliments from you.

You only need a few seconds to find your resolve again. Potential humiliation is always daunting but you really don’t think you can stomach the last hours of your shift with this uneasy weight on your shoulders. Besides, he won’t let it lie if you shrug him off now after practically begging for his attention. “Well, it’s just — what am I gonna do if we kiss?”

His face goes slack for a millisecond before he looks like he wants to kill you for bringing up the subject. “Are we in middle school or somethin’? Just fuckin’ kiss him if you want to,” he growls it out, already ripping open his book to find the page he lost for such a juvenile conversation.

You can’t bring yourself to say the real issue. How hard could it possibly be to just say you’re out of practice? Extremely, woefully out of practice for someone your age who should be playing the field to some degree. You haven’t been in a relationship since high school and the last time you kissed someone was at a Christmas party two years ago.

(Even more depressing is the fact that the kiss in question only barely counts. Getting caught underneath the mistletoe with Tenya had resulted in the most awkward, short-lived peck in human existence. It took months for either of you to fully live it down and you still hear about it every December.

You would be loath to admit it but it’s because of Katsuki that all you’ve experienced in the last few years has been Tenya’s stiff embrace. At some point before that party, you had noticed the way you came alive when he would direct all of his attention on you and it hadn’t taken long to realize that it was because you had feelings for him. How could you not? He's always cared for you and paid attention to all of your little parts, always rough and tumble but soft and doting at the same time. He’s always impressed upon you how you’re ‘his girl’ and it’s always lit you like a livewire.

Despite it all, you’d given up hope of reciprocity. He never exhibited any feelings in return and you weren’t the type to actively pursue something with a friendship as dear as his on the line. Mirio’s invitation couldn’t have come at a better time because, hopefully, someone as lovely as him will wean you off of Katsuki and the insurmountable emotions you have for him.)

You don’t flounder for long because Katsuki never lets you. He always zeros in on these things quickly without you having to actually say anything. It’s too bad that he uses his powers for evil instead of actually being helpful for once.

His smile is knife-sharp and his eyes hold the usual air of taunting people like Izuku have to deal with all the time. “What? Does the little ‘ole mechanic still not know how to kiss?” He clicks his tongue in mock pity before letting out an obnoxious laugh at your expense, slapping his book on his knee like he wasn’t pissed at the beginning of this exchange. Like you don’t know how he’s just as hopeless in this arena with his nonexistent dating life.

“It’s just been a while!” You’re trying to defend yourself but it only makes him laugh that much harder, his hand slapping across his mouth to cover his manic grin and stifle his obnoxious wheezing. It might have been funny if it was anyone else but it just feels pathetic to you; It’s to the point now that the mechanics of making out have totally slipped your mind, not that he needs to know that with how hard he’s already laughing. “I just want it to be good,” you drop your pencil down on the steel table with finality before turning back to the Honda. To save some face, to protect what little bit of pride you still have kicking in your chest, your words take on an indifferent tone. ”Whatever. I’ll just figure it out when the time comes.”

His laughter dies down and no response follows which is honestly fine because you prefer the silence. You assume he’s dropped it, something that’s probably for the best after how he’s been this week. While you might have forgotten the lead-up, the motions of making out, the same can’t be said for knowing how little Katsuki is invested in the topic of your date. He’s made it perfectly clear how much of an idiot he finds Mirio and how you’re an even bigger one for accepting his offer. Telling Katsuki about Mirio started recurring rounds of barely-concealed huffing and little comments at Mirio’s expense (and sometimes yours) before pattering off into a terrible mask of nonchalance. It’s done nothing to hide his random bout of irritation on the subject.

You line up a collection pan under the drain plug, already reaching for the ratchet balanced on the nearby toolbox. Placing the head of the tool against the large bolt, you set to work on turning. You twist and twist and twist your arm counter-clockwise and the garage fills with the familiar sound of metal on metal.

The click of your tool is loud on your ears but it’s not enough to drown out everything with it, especially with the rhythmic pauses you take with each crank. You hear a group of teenagers after one crank, laughing carelessly after a day at the local high school pass the front of the shop. Next, it’s a deep metal clang from the old vending machine in the office section, its weak lights fluttering with the shake of an old machine. Finally, just as you feel the bolt release the majority of its tension and all it will take to have pools of slick oil filling your pan is a single crank, you catch Katsuki’s rough voice carrying through the wind. Your ratchet ends up slipping right through your fingers and clattering on the concrete. The bolt still clings to the valve.

”Practice on me.”

The slam of metal on concrete has you startling, and you straighten your back to your full height—not that you get very far. Pain blooms at the crown of your head from the harsh metal of a rogue pipe beneath the car. “Shit, that hurt—” You cup the spot tenderly, reaching toward the ground so you can scoop up your fallen tool while you hiss in Katsuki’s direction. “I really hope that joke was worth my concussion, asshole.”

He locks his jaw and squares his shoulders, tense and sharp lines replacing the teasing air that usually comes of his mockery, before retaliating again—almost making you drop the ratchet a second time. “‘M not joking,” Katsuki frowns, the pinch of his brow painting the perfect picture of serious.

Your cheeks heat but unlike the flush that comes with crushes and dates and kissing, it’s the kind that comes with being poked at. It feels a little humiliating because he’s barring down, acting like he’s willing to make out with you and for a joke of all things. You clench your fist tight around the ratchet before slamming it back into your toolbox. “You’re not funny, Kat,” you close your eyes for a brief moment, releasing a single rage-filled breath so you don’t blow up from his audacity. “That’s not funny, especially since I was being open with you.”

He casts his head back and groans, loud and frustrated before replying with a sneer that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I know the fumes from this shithole haven’t fucked with your cognitive abilities that much. I said I wasn’t jokin’.”

Tinges of anger still linger deep within your chest but they’re mostly replaced with confusion. It doesn’t make any sense, not in your world at least. “You’re being serious? Why would you offer that?”

His cheeks redden as he processes what you’ve said, where the conversation has gone and then he’s breaking his gaze, swiveling his head to the bustling street outside. He ignores your questions when he finally works through all of the thoughts you can see piling up in his head. “Forget it.”

You aren’t as willing to forget. “Would you really do that for me?”

You step around your toolbox, around the steel table you write all of your orders down on, and you close the distance that separated Katsuki from your work. He doesn’t move when you approach; he stays still and quiet, watching people come and go with dark eyes and a clamped mouth. ”It’s just a dumb fucking kiss,” his rough voice is even more coarse. “I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t willin’.”

Shock doesn’t even begin to describe what you’re going through. Katsuki can shrug off a kiss like it carries no weight but you know that’s not really how he feels. Dating, sex, kissing — it‘s all serious business to him, after a lifetime of watching his parents love each other and seeing the joy and domestic bliss that came out of it. After a lifetime of wanting it for himself. He wouldn’t do this with just anyone.

He’d do it with you, though.

You consider him then, only for a few seconds. You take in his pale hair, his stained cheeks, his large hand dwarfing his little paperback where it holds the page he’s on. Pretty, you recognize because that’s always been true for as long as you’ve known him. Pretty and willing to kiss you.

Your answer leaves as easily as it came to mind. “Okay.”

You catch the subtle ruffle of his hair when he turns to face you again. He considers you now, analyzing you in the same way you had analyzed him. Feeling his eyes on you is too much so you follow in his footsteps; You lamely train your eyes out the door and pretend he isn’t even here, like anything out there is more interesting than this sudden turn of events.

You can’t help but glance at him from the corner of your eyes, and it’s enough to finally evoke a response out of him.

“You gonna get over here or are ya gonna stand around like an idiot?”

It only takes four steps to clear what little space pooled between you two, to be within reaching distance of each other. You don't reach out to him yet; Instead, you wipe sweaty hands down your front, completely at a loss for how to tread these new waters with someone currently glaring holes in between your eyebrows.

“What are you gonna do with your hands?” Business as usual, Katsuki takes on his usually bossy tone. It’s irritating most days but all it does now is put you at ease. You know he’ll take care of you and you know that he’ll be helpful in his own aggressive way.

“My hands? It depends,” you say, because it does. A lot of factors go into hand placement.

He rolls his eyes at you because, even though he’s helping, he’s still Katsuki. “No, it doesn’t ‘depend’,” he quotes the air, his voice in a grating impression of your own. “God, you’re so fucking lucky I’m around.”

He snatches your hands, curling around the limp of your wrists and then tugging unnecessarily harsh until you’re standing in between his parted thighs. He drops a stained hand on his shoulder, ignoring a cry you let out about the grease before twining your leftover fingers with his. You feel the catch of his calluses on your own and despite the pleasant trill that rockets up your palm, it’s immediately overshadowed by the need to fidget away in a fit of stage fright. If Katsuki feels the same, he doesn’t show it.

The hand still in his grip is moved to the back of his head that dips back to meet it. He cards your fingers through the wild mess of hair, curling your fingers around his strands before slipping away to anchor around your elbow. “There. He’ll like it if you do that shit,” Katsuki smirks up at you, cocky when all he did was put your hands on him.

Embarrassingly enough, he might actually have a reason to feel cocky. If it feels even a fraction like this when you touch Mirio then you don’t see how things could go wrong. You notice how it lights you up from the inside; Pops and crackles flare deep in the crevices of your gut the longer your hands are on him.

You’ve touched these parts of him before—felt the curves of his shoulder when patting him on the back and the downy soft of his hair on the rare occasions he lays his head on your lap—but this is the first time it’s inspired anything beyond friendly affection. This is new, feeling your friend in this context. You’re a little shocked by how much you enjoy it.

With little success, you try to ignore how well he fits into your palms. “What now?” You zero in on the material of his shirt but it proves to be just as distracting with how it clings to his torso. Has he always been this built?

He’s so focused on helping, so serious about it that you almost feel a little guilty for the subtle squeeze you give to his arm, taking in how the muscles refuse to cave around your fingers. “You gotta look me in the eyes when you do this shit, or it won’t count.”

You doubt that but you listen anyway because you really don’t want to be caught checking him out when he’s being so nice to help you in the first place. You square your shoulders and dip your head and tear your gaze away from your prodding fingers but his request is easier said than done.

The promise of a kiss as practice, one shared with your best friend no less, is making you feel ridiculous and—if you really examined yourself—extremely nervous. If only you could be as straight-faced as he is; Your mouth stretches into a grin and your belly begins to twitch with suppressed laughter, despite the admittedly valiant attempt to stop both.

His face doesn’t crumble when he notices the shake of your shoulders. Instead, deep red eyes narrow into a glare when he sees your lip caught between your teeth, when he feels the clench of your heated hands on his shoulder and in his hair, and a snarl warps his face. You can’t blame him.

“Fuckin’—stop laughing,” he snaps, his cheeks coloring to match his ears. “I don’t have to do this shit for you. Fucking grow up.”

“Sorry—” You cast your head back to the tin roof of the garage, and you try to regain your composure because he is right. He doesn’t have to do this for you and you should probably be grateful he hasn’t started kicking your ass for daring to laugh at him. A few pulls of air filled with the overpowering smell of gasoline and grease does nothing to quell the jitter of your nerves like it usually does. You're practically wheezing now. “Just give me a second.”

“No, fuck you. I do this shit out of the kindness of my heart and you have the fuckin’ nerve,” — he tries to pry your hands away but you tighten your grip to deter him — “Let go, damn it!“

“Please, Katsuki,” you’re gasping for air but it does help relieve some of the tension that started to leak into your bones. “I’m just nervous, remember?”

That must quell his wrath because hands that sought to push you away lose their will, loosening around where they tried to pry you off. Instead, they find shelter at the curve of your waist. He cups just beneath your rib cage, his fingers locking against doughy flesh, and then pets down your side every time your body jumps from every stifled laugh.

It takes longer than a few seconds, your laughs losing their wind and your smile shrinking into its little half-moon slowly, but it does eventually stop—and when the time comes, you find he’s already staring at you. There’s no scowl or scathing look or pout. All you’re greeted with is an expression that reeks of something gentle and reverent.

It should shock you to see, this sweetness, but most of the surprise comes from how real it feels. You’re still coming off of a rush of endorphins, happy little chemicals that eased you into his gaze, but it doesn’t quite feel like the lingering effects of adrenaline that legitimatizes the glint in his eyes. You know how authentic that expression is because It rests along your tongue and the roof of your mouth whenever you are caught up in your own feelings, filling your throat with a roaring heat that sears your insides with want.

It’s just practice, you stress half-heartedly.

His hands slide down to grip the fat of your hips with strength that surges up his arms, has the blue-green criss-cross of his veins jumping and the muscles of his arms flexing. He pulls you even closer until your thighs press tight against the insides of his.

His torso expands and rubs pleasantly through the thick material of your coveralls and, maybe if you weren’t too busy marveling at the novelty of it, you would have noticed the singular stutter of his breathing when you lean into him even more, squishing your chest against him with the weight of your body. “He’ll do that,” He says, his voice low and rumbling while his eyes bounce around, never staying anywhere for long. “He’ll do that if he isn’t a complete moron.”

Your fingers twist and curl the edges of his hair. It's a necessary distraction from how one of his hands rubs a slow stroke up and down your side. He tilts his head back a bit to maintain eye contact, and you find that you like that, feeling his eyes gazing up at you. A dull thud echoes in the quiet still of the garage; The toe of one of your boots knocks against the tower of tires Katsuki has perched himself on and it’s all because you want to feel his head tip a little further into the cradle of your palm. “How do you know?”

His eyes finally halt, fixed on a singular point on your face, your mouth, with drooping eyelids. Has anyone ever looked at you like that before? He grumbles back a slow and reluctant answer. “I read a lot of Shoujo.”

Normal conditions would call for a round of teasing. He’s never openly admitted to reading those, always telling you to ‘mind your own damn business’ when you ask. It should be ridiculous that someone like Katsuki, who looks like he would be averse to romance in all its forms, indulges in stories about characters falling deeply in love.

It doesn’t feel so absurd now that you’re chest to chest with him and his eyes feel like they’re brand-hot while they trail the shape of your face.

Maybe if you ask nicely, with enough sweetness and pleading, he’ll tell you what it is that he enjoys reading the most. There are endless possibilities in romance; Maybe he reads about enemies falling in love or maybe he sticks solely to meet-cute storylines about starstruck strangers. A secret hope wriggles itself deep in the crevices of your heart, flipping your stomach obnoxiously once more; Maybe, if you’re lucky, he’ll have a soft spot for romance between friends.

The way he’s looking at you now almost makes the last week he’s spent biting your head off worth it. It also makes you forget how you earned this position, the two of you spun around each other. It feels too natural, perfect in the way that he’s meant to have his hands on you and your hands on him.

“Kat?”

“Changed my mind.” For all your sluggish movements and syrupy thoughts, your heart works itself into overdrive when he says that. He doesn’t let you spiral for long. “Close your eyes,” he whispers.

The request causes hesitation. What if this leaves you wrecked to the point that you’ll never be able to get over him? Is this really the type of thing you should do before a date with someone else? What if Katsuki doesn’t like it?

Because it’s Katsuki, he sees all the trepidation flash across your face and makes the decision for you. A hand that’s sat still on your side, one that’s only played with the give of your hip, moves. It ghosts over your waist, slow on its ascent up the side of a breast. Higher, the length of your neck shivers when his calloused graze thin skin. His middle and index fingers extend, parting to fit the width of your eyes before resting over your brow and pulling down. The pads of his fingers are rough here too but also gentle and warm on your eyelids. “Close ‘em.”

Your eyes flutter at the raspy demand. You hear a car fly past the shop and a gust of warm, early September air whooshing through the garage door. The wind ruffles the edges of your hair but never touches your cheek; Katsuki’s hand bats away the humidity, his thumb rubbing dizzying tingles into the skin.

The tickle of his breath results in the swipe of your tongue along your cupid’s bow—you only miss Katsuki’s bottom lip by a centimeter, not that you notice. You work through the jumble of your throat, swallowing around the ball of nerves that grows the longer he hovers. “I thought it didn’t count if I couldn't look you in the eye?”

“Shut up,” he rumbles, nowhere near as scathing as he usually is when he demands your silence. “Couldn’t handle you lookin’ at me like that.”

His breath smells like the sweet-tart of citrus tic tacs, the same ones he refused to share earlier. Giddy is the best way to describe the emotion bubbling up. Looks like you get a taste after all. “Why not?”

Your eyes stay resolutely closed, his mouth stays resolutely shut. You scratch at his scalp a little meanly but the low grunt he lets out is more relaxed than hurt. “C’mon, Katsuki.“ Why wouldn’t he be able to handle you looking at him in any type of way?

His voice is so low on your ears that if you weren’t already hanging off of his words you would have surely missed it. “Ya keep lookin’ at me like that and it’ll be me you’re goin’ on a date with.”

It’s soft, much softer than Katsuki seems capable of, when you feel the first press of his lips.

And It’s good. It’s so good you completely forget the nerves and the implication of his words. They just — whoosh away with the wind of another too fast car and each wet smack of his lips. Everything you know fades out of existence and all you can do is fall into him, leaning more and more of your weight into his soft squeezes and the clenching muscles of his stomach shamelessly. You don’t even have it in you to be embarrassed when your teeth clink or someone bites too hard on plush bottom lips. He takes it all in a stride, almost seems to revel in it as much as you do.

And maybe you weren’t as hopeless as you thought because you seem to match his pace and finesse with little trouble. Katsuki pants and shudders and pulls at you with increasing force. His fingers flex and clench along your body, trailing dangerously low on your back with one hand and slowly rubbing the side of your belly with the other. He whines when you clench his hair in your fist and lean his head back for better access to the curl of his tongue, moans low and rough when your body sags against him and you feel a tell-tale hardness straining against his jeans.

He’s the one that pulls away first. The only thing that stops you from licking into his mouth again is a little shove to your hips and a low croak.

“E—enough,” he clears his throat, and the air of nonchalance he’s imitating would be more believable if he wasn’t running his tongue over swollen lips, if his fingers weren’t twitching to touch more and his eyes weren't trained on the heave of your chest. “You’ve got no reason to be nervous about your dumb fuckin’ date.”

He might be able to change the subject easily but you can’t. You’re dazed, practically swaying in your work boots between his thighs. Date? Nervous? You aren’t nervous anymore and you aren’t thinking about a date with Mirio. Everything seems so far away now, hardly even a blip on your radar. Unimportant. All you have left swirling in your head are ways to get your mouth on him again without seeming too desperate.

“You’re blushing.” You’ve missed the migration of his deep flush because your eyes were closed. The blush has moved from his face and ears down toward the thick of his neck, maybe even the valley of his chest. You trail a finger down one scalding cheek, the same shade of rouge that covers the pert of his nose. He freezes in his pursuit of making distance. “Did you like it that much, Katsuki?”

You should know better than to ask him that and it’s only confirmed when he slaps at the hand on his cheek and forces you back before he jumps to his feet off of his tower of tires. He looms over you once he’s at his full height with a mean snarl that curls back his upper lip. The intention of intimidation falls flat when his eyes still track the swollen mess you have for a mouth.

“As fuckin’ if.” He rips his jacket from the hood of a car, shoving his arms deep into the leather with all the aggression in the world and stomping toward the entrance of the shop with the same amount of ire. “I should’ve known you would pull some shit like that. Should've let you look like the goddamn fool you are in front of your lame ass boy toy.”

Katsuki doesn’t normally leave until your shift ends so he can drive you home. The rush he’s in to leave the garage is startling and even if you committed the cardinal sin of asking Katsuki how he feels, you’re unprepared for the change of pace. You intercept him right at the door, posing yourself as a wobbly-kneed wall that stands between his escape. “Where are you going?”

“Anywhere but this shitty fuckin’ shop!” He spits it out all mean but he doesn’t push through you to leave like he normally would. He stands with clenched fists and glares down at you even though he’s supposed to be storming out of the garage.

“Okay,” you breathe it out, a little dreamy and a little defeated. You don’t really want him to leave, not when you easily just had the best kiss of recent memory and with the same friend who’s been so aggravated since Mirio made his appearance on your radar. But you know from how he shifts from foot to foot that any conversation about it right now would just make him act like a caged animal. “Alright, Kat. Just one more thing before you go.”

“What do you want now?” His sharp edge dulls itself a bit from curiosity. You hope to god you’re reading the room right.

You steel your resolve and rise to the tip of your toes. With the collar of his jacket cuffed in your fist, you drop a final kiss on the corner of his mouth. He reacts so fast, not even questioning it and already working to move his mouth so it’s placed squarely against yours. The soft pucker of his lips trying so hard to greet your own only builds the hope you buried in your chest.

The smile you give him when you’ve pulled away must be a lot to take in because he avoids it entirely. You don’t let him run for long; You cup the underside of his chin and pull him to face you head-on.

“I’ll call you later, yeah?”

You only get a single half-second of his disbelief before his wide eyes strengthen to their normal steel with that little something from before, that pillow-soft glaze of affection and want. The response he grunts back confirms what you see and what you felt when he held you in his hands and kissed away your thoughts. “Nah, I’ll call you. I have some shit I got to tell you.”

And then he leaves. He nudges you out of the way with a firm grip on your waist before he turns his back to you and marches out the garage door. He never fully looks back either. All you get is a single glance out of the corner of ruby eyes when he fixes a nonexistent fold of his jacket before he leaves you alone with the hum of an archaic vending machine and the phantom impression his hands left on your body.

And you just watch him trudge down the sidewalk. You memorize how the sinking sun paints his hair and the tenseness of his shoulders from how he has a hand shoved in his pocket and his little paperback book clenched in the other. You lose sight of him completely when he passes the dingy corner store you always buy coffee from.

You already have an inclination about what his call will be about. If his goodbye and the reaction to the sweet little kiss you placed on the edge of his mouth are anything to go off of, you really do have nothing to worry about — nothing to worry about because Katsuki is going to put an end to your lovesick misery without the help of Mirio. You can barely contain the excitement from gushing out of every pore.

Your next course of action is pretty much decided then and there and you waste no time once he‘s gone. You claw your phone from the deep pocket of your coveralls, you pull up Mirio’s contact info, and let out your sixth sigh of the afternoon.

Katsuki’s soothed your nerves but, in doing so, he’s left you with a whole new problem. Now you need to figure out the right way to tell Mirio that you can’t make your date because you’re seeing someone else.

#bakugou x reader #Katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x chubby reader #bakugo katuski x reader #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #katsuki x fem!reader #bakugou x fem!reader #mha x reader #bakugou x you #pls enjoy bakugou as watts and reader as keith #mine!!

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ggukkiereads · 3 years

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Hello!! Just a few days ago I stumble upon your blog and I'm wondering if you have some recommendations for Hybrid AUs, much appreciated if it is an OT7 and completed, but if so I will still be so thankful. (I just need some cure from the stress that modules brings) Thank You in Advance (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

🌷 Hello! welcome to my mini fic-reading land. I’ve actually received asks for Hybrid AUs (I pinned the requests in the navi) but I just have a very messy draft.

But to help you with your stress, I think I can share a few of my ongoing reads (sorry they won’t be complete but they’re OT7). But, I added completed ones I could remember too (●'◡'●)

*note: will edit this later and organize this per member - maybe add other fics I’ll remember*

Fic Recs | BTS Hybrid AUs

→ A Place Called Home @agustdakasuga - OT7 x Reader

series [27/27] | 88k | Hybrid AU, Poly AU, Soulmate AU, Romance Humor | Fluff

Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.

→ If I Can Never Give You Peace @candlewaxandp0lar0ids - Jungkook x Reader

series [3/?] | 17.6k+ | Mafia AU, Enemies to Lovers | A (so far)

It starts like quite a few stories do, in your world. Girl meets boy, who happens to be a hybrid, girl buys him at an auction where hybrids are sold, boy falls in love with her, girl gets bored of him. Then it’s not so typical anymore, when the boy ends up forced into illegal fighting rings, until he makes a wrong move and her father decides he needs to be killed.

Where does that leave you? Well, you’re the one who handled Jungkook’s fight and generally organized his life, and, when the girl’s father, your boss and mafia leader, tells you he wants him ‘put down’, you’re the one who has to get it done. Except, instead, you let him escape, and everything turns out fine.

🌷ggukkienote: I am so hooked on this (because I am a sucker for Mafia AUs too). This is such a great story and the OC is really different from the usual OCs. Very interesting.

→ Eunoia @wishesunderthestars - OT7 x Reader

series [15/?] | 100k+ (I just assumed this, masterpost doesn’t have wc but it’s 6k per chapter or more?) | Director!Reader, hurt/comfort | fluff, eventual smut

You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job. You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

→ Restitution @cloudteawrites - OT7 x Reader

series [7/?] | 48k+ | slow burn, poly, mystery, romance

when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is.

→ Lacuna @barbika1508 - Jungkook x Reader

series [42/42] | 324.3k | Hybrid AU, check for TW | Fluff, Angst, Smut

Lacuna - (n.) a blank space, a missing part

Y/N just wanted to go back home, to enjoy her peace and quiet away from problems and people. But typically, her luck strikes as she stumbles upon a horrific scene of two guys mistreating an already beaten down hybrid. Will she take matters into her own hands and help him? Or let someone else help along the way???

🌷 This is on AO3 and I got a recent ask about author’s tumblr. So if you prefer AO3 you can check their profile

→ A Hundred Percent Human by wrienne- OT7 x Reader

series [12/?] | 88k+ | Hybrid AU, fluff, angst, smut |

In which you (reader) are forced to take care of seven hybrids in a twist of fate. Drunk and down on life, you finally decide to deal with the house and the unsavory business your mother left behind. However, to your shock, you find that seven very different hybrids are included with both the house - and the business. Seven hybrids you never even met before - even less agreed to take care of.

🌷 This is on AO3. I don’t normally reco AO3 since my blog is focused on tumblr fics but someone sent an ask about this so I’m including it

→ Inferiority Complex @starlightauroras-writes - Jimin x Reader

series [10/?] | 88k+ | political themes, themes of abuse (hybrids) | A, S

You had never liked hybrids. You disagreed with their very existence, and you never wanted to have anything to do with them. And then one day, you discovered a hybrid who was more scared of you than you were of him, and everything changed as you realised you were the only hope he had…

→ Sanctuary @chimchimsauce - Jimin x Reader

series [16/16] | 20k | Wolf Hybrid!Jimin, Barista!OC, feat sanctuary staff Taehyung, hurt/comfort | F, A

YN is a young girl, bright and ambitious, but due to her busy schedule, she's been unable to make any real friends. When an ad for Saint Mary's Sanctuary catches her attention, she never expected her life to be changed by a certain hybrid named Jimin.

→ Summer Nights @marginalmadness - Jungkook x Reader

series [4/4] | 23k | Hybrid!Fantasy, Romance | F, S

A freak weather anomaly leads to a chance encounter with a rabbit-hybrid, and your kind nature results in you gaining a small, fluffy lodger, who questions your taste in television shows. It’s won’t be for long...will it?

→ Risk it All @/httpjeon - Jungkook x Reader

series [5/5] | 8.3k | hybrid au, alpha wolf!jungkook | A, F, S

ripped from your family, you find yourself in a warehouse filled with predators. just your luck, you’re right across from a caged alpha wolf.

🌷 (I linked Chapter 5 because for some reason others couldn’t find this chapter so they thought it’s still incomplete)

→ Outro Love is Not Over @kiirokero - Hoseok x Reader

series [12/?] | Daycare Teacher!Hoseok x Single Mom!Reader

You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho. But you’re a human. You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can. So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

→ It Takes Two To Make A Thing Go Right @imaginethisbts - TaeKook x Reader

two shot [2/2] | 11k | dom/sub themes, heat cycles | S

What’s better than one dogboy lover? Two dogboy lovers. But when Tae and Jungkook seem unusually clingy, it can only mean one thing. That time of the month has snuck up on you and your dogboy lovers do not want to share.

🌷 Also try their other Jungkook hybrid series Out of the Blue

→ Peculiar Park @daydreamindollie - OT7 x Reader

series [9/?] | 38k+ | imagines, slice of life | Writer!Reader, Psychologist!Reader, imagines | fluff

you’re a successful hybrid writer and psychologist who takes in seven hybrids on one stormy night after finding one of their pack stealing from your garden

→ Yeouiju @nomseok - Namjoon x Reader

one shot | 33.7k | Mythical AU, Hybrid AU (if you squint), suspense | A, F, S

you find an ancient stone in the middle of the mountains and bring it home with you, oblivious to the consequences of taking a dragon’s yeouiju.

→ Beautiful Stranger @/nomseok - Taehyung x Reader

one shot | 19k | circus AU | A, S, F

your dream is to take care of animals for the rest of your life in the big city, making sure that they’re cared for. but you stumble upon a malnourished, rare tiger in your local circus, and you can’t help but want to take care of him.

→ Evolution of You and I @readyplayerhobi - Jimin x Reader

one shot | 10.2k | kind of epistolary (letters), chat, childhood friends | F

For 15 years, Park Jimin has been in your life in some form. From childhood penpal’s to the closest of friends now, you can’t imagine your life without him even if you’ve never actually met him in person. It doesn’t help that you’ve fallen for him, even across the distance that separates you. But what happens when you finally meet up and you discover he’s been keeping something secret?

→ Fish are Friends @httpjeon - Taehyung x Reader

one shot | 10.2k | seahorse hybrid!taehyung | A, S, F

after moving to the seaside, there is a dreadful storm. when all is clear, a man washes up on shore…only he isn’t quite human.

🌷 you know seahorses mate for life and it’s the male that gets pregnant? Interesting huh

→ Pink Panther @gimmesumsuga - Seokjin x Reader

one shot | 13k | boss-employee | F, S

The one where your boss, Kim Seokjin, tries to show you how beautiful you are.

→ Ragdoll @ausblack - Jimin x Reader

series [17/17] | Hybrid AU, College AU | F, A

As you were studying to obtain your medical & veterinary degree, your professor came up with the idea of organizing an internship - where you found yourself side by side with a sick hybrid that needed nothing other that complete care.

→ Jagged + Catnap @opaljm - Jimin x Reader

one shot + sequel | 18k | jaguar/black panther!jimin, sand dune cat!reader, mutual pining, friends to lovers, established relationship (sequel)| S, F, slight A

The pretty little sand cat hybrid Jimin has been in love with for the past year experiences her first heat and Jimin would love nothing more than to be the one to guide her through it and breed her with his kittens.

🌷 there’s also a possible spin-off for Taehyung (Eye of the Tiger)

→ Owner @jessikahathaway - Jungkook x Reader

series [6/?] | 17.4k | Fake Dating AU, Hybrid AU, based on Kimi Wa Petto (Japanese anime) | F, S, A

With your mother hounding on you (no pun intended), you decided to get a little help from a hybrid, who was also in need of assistance.

→ Loving Him Was Red + Somewhere Only We Know @userseok - Jungkook x Reader

series [3/?] | 12.8k+ | enemies to lovers, childhood friends (sorta), college au, jock!jungkook, unrequited love (for OC) | S, F, A

you’ve been chasing after jungkook for years. after a harsh verbal altercation between both of you, you decide to leave him alone and pursue a relationship with someone who seems genuinely interested in you, thinking he would never return your feelings.

I would like to recommend the catalog of these writers:

@ditttiii - so I realize I’m following them on AO3 when I realized the fics looked familiar 🤭. They have an ongoing series called Enchanted to Meet You which you might want to check out if you like Soulmate AUs too! I recently reblogged a Jungkook two-shot comfort fic (hybrid au too) so I recommend going through their masterlist!

@aroseforyoongi - who I discovered because of Gossamer (KTH). It was completed but I think it’s up for re-write/re-post? You can try the others:

Navy Blue - Jungkook [completed]

Forever Yours - Yoongi [one shot, prequel to Navy Blue]

Let Me Love You- Jungkook [one shot]

@magicalsalamander - another favorite author of mine I just feel like I’m reading a great tale every time I start on a series or one shot. They have great fics with supernatural themes too

Rabbit on the Moon - Jungkook | if you’re in the mood for police officer Jungkook [6/6]

The Act of Persuasion - Seokjin | if you are in the mood for Single Dad AU x Arranged Marriage too [one shot]

Firefly that Guards the Fox - Taehyung | if you are in the mood for mystery [11/12 - just epilogue left]

Kitten’s Little Flame - Yoongi | if you like BF to Lovers between dragon and a cat [6/6]

There’s more so please check their Masterlist

@hollyhomburg - I just love Of Fire and Love (hello dragon!yoongi and baby!jungkook? 🥺) But you can check:

their masterlist of all their hybrid fics

Dance to This series which I’ve added to fic recs based on an ask about stories that include members/readers with disability.

Don’t care if it Hurts - Jimin | this is probably my favorite (again I’m a sucker for Mafia AUs) , guard dog hybrid!jimin [12/13, just epilogue]

@angelicyoongie - I got hooked after reading their stories on AO3 but they have tumblr too! Check their masterlist for ongoing hybrid fic (Abundance - OT7) but these are completed ones:

Desolate - Yoongi, grumypy cat hybrid [14/14]

Out of the Woods - Namjoon, wolf hybrid, strangers to lovers [3/3]

@worldwidebt7 - if you like webtoons! I read parts of Jungkook’s webtoon and I think currently we’re on Yoongi’s story. Access it here

@jincherie - One of the first hybrid fics I remember encountering is Inheritance (MYG). Other fics:

Perihelion - Hoseok, college, roommate, enemies [2/?]

Butterfingers - Namjoon, teacher au, this is cuuuute READ IT if you’re looking for something fluffy [one shot]

4 o’ clock - Taehyung, single dad au (I included this in the singel dad fic recs too) [3/?]

Under the Bridge - Jungkook, found jungkook under the bridge [one shot]

@whitesparrows97 - a writer I discovered because of a Yoongi soulmate fic but I found that they also have other hybrid fics:

Cat’s Cradle - Yoongi, bestfriend [5/5]

Underdog - Taehyung, shifter, brought home what she thought a stray dog [5/5]

@foxymoxynoona - and what would my reco be without foxymoxy? So they have tumblr but their works are on AO3. I’ve listed their current works here but I didn’t include their completed works which are must-reads:

Sugar Fairy - Jungkook, mating, adopted hybrids [48/48]

A Sea of Indigo - Jungkook, ex-fighter [48/48] ⭐⭐⭐

@therealmintedmango - They have a whole masterlist of their hybrid!au fics. I recently finished Kingdom Come and I always remember Jimin from King (for some reason)

@joonbird - check their Zodiac Hybrid Masterlist of one shot per member

There are more (usually one shot per member) but I’ll probably put them in another Fic Rec List for Hybrid AUs. Sorry this list is kind of all over the place (not even organized per member 🤭). But good luck with your modules and I hope these help!

(❁´◡`❁)

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genshin-obsessed · 3 years

Text

You Get Injured!

Yo! I’m back and this time with a little bit of angst. One thing about me: I ADORE ANGST!!! LEMME BREAK SOMEONE’S HEART!!! I love, love, love writing angst so much! Anyway, enjoy!

Summary: You get injured on the job, what’s his reaction?

Includes: Aether, Kaeya, Diluc, Venti, Razor, Xiao, Xingqiu, Zhongli, and Childe! (YES I ADDED AETHER >:0)

Come one, come all! See what happens when you come home injured!

Warnings: Mentions of blood, no details though.

You were supposed to be with Aether, but he had his own commissions, but he swore he’d come help you right after. You weren’t patient and ended up getting into a fight with too many hilichurls and it didn’t end well.

He immediately remembered the time he lost Lumine, but for some reason, he was even more scared than that incident. He felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him and he’d completely frozen up. When he saw your bloodied form fall to the floor, it brought him back to reality.

He ran to you and pulled you into his arms, desperately searching for life. He needed to see that you were ok. In fact, he’d taken your hand and squeezed your wrist to feel your pulse. It was weak, but it was there. He pressed his lips to yours, ignoring the taste of iron that followed.

As the doctor was stitching up the larger gashes, he was cleaning up the blood around your face and whispering words of encouragement to you. He gave you water and held your hand throughout the entire process.

PERSONAL NURSE AETHER REPORTING FOR DUTY! Beck and call, whenever you need him, he’s there for you. He put his adventuring on hold until you were 100% better.

Did you need an adventuring partner? Cuz Aether needs one! And you’re the perfect candidate. He’s going on adventures will you- well ok, he’s going EVERYWHERE with you but for a while. Once his nerves and anxiety dies down, he backs off quite a bit.

You had been fighting hilichurs for a commission and the last thing you had expected was multiple Mitachurls to be around. Well, there were more than you could handle and they floored you.

His heart almost stopped when he saw your bloodied form walking towards him, reaching out ever so weakly. He sprinted towards you, hating that he wasn’t there for you. Why was he so slow?! Why were so you far away, dammit?

He takes you into his arms and holds you close before quickly rushing you to the doctor. He knew he might’ve been a bit rough, but he could barely think. All that was going through his mind was him wishing that it was all just a nightmare.

He’s there 24/7, whenever you need him. He’s got meals, blankets, cuddles, kisses, whatever you need. He helps you with EVERYTHING. He knew it was hard to shower with all those wounds and he didn’t want your stitches to open up, so he was a bit strict.

After your full recovery, he’s a little bit hesitant to let you go on your own. He might just join you on a mission or two. Don’t mind him, but once his worries are eased a little, he backs off. Besides, the cavalry captain can’t exactly run around with you, even though he so desperately wants to.

You were on your way to Mondstat from Liyue where you ended up on a beach with more ruin guards than you could handle (may the lord protect you if you wander there on accident).

Full fledged panic. It almost feels like someone was actively tearing his heart out. He couldn’t even breathe in that moment. He desperately wished he could heal you (I don’t think he can…), make you all better so you wouldn’t have to hurt so much. Were… were you crying?

He ran to you but the second he reached out to touch you, he pulled back a little. He was almost scared to touch you, like something as gentle as his touch might shatter what remained. He didn’t want to hurt you anymore, but it was clear you couldn’t walk so he had to carry you.

He does hold you close when you get help, whispering words of encouragement and love to you; anything to help. He immediately helped clean the blood off of you, trying to be as gentle as possible.

Through your healing process, he’s beside you constantly. He helps you with everything. Anything you need, he’s there. Thirsty? He’s got some water. Hungry? He’s got a plate of food. Need cuddles? Scoot over.

He’s actually terrified to let you go, but he knows you. This is your job and he’d seen you in action. So, he does let you go… as long as he can stick to you like glue (Cries in no Venti).

You had been hunting some abyss mages down and everything was going great… until it wasn’t. A rookie mistake almost caused your death. You’d never been so scared and the only thing you could think of was Diluc in that moment. You wanted to be in his arms.

He thought he’d been caught in a nightmare. He genuinely believed it wasn’t you. But when you called out to him, he was yanked back to reality. Everything felt so weird, it felt like a weird out of body experience for him. He was so scared he was shaking as he reached out to touch your bloodied face.

The first thing he does is check you to see how bad your injuries are before he brings you home to his personal doctor. Your blood burned him, it stung as tears welled up in his eyes. How could he let this happen to you? How could he fail you like this?

As the doctor patches you up, he sits beside you, holding your hand and giving you kisses every now and then, telling you you’re doing great and that you’ll be ok. He was still shaking, but he didn’t want you to worry, so he did his best to hide it.

He’s extremely busy, so he can’t be beside you 24/7, but he tries to be with you every single night. In fact, he lets the knights handle everything while you heal, not wanting to leave you alone for too long

You best believe he’s hunting down every single abyss mage in existence. One hurt you? They all suffer. You try to keep him in check by keeping him at your side.

You had decided to challenge Electro Hypostases on your own... You should’ve been more careful. You didn’t realize how powerful it was and you got extremely lucky.

Oh he can smell your blood from a distance. So he didn’t even need to see you to know you were injured. He was terrified. His heart was beating so fast and he couldn’t catch his breath. He felt himself going insane when he couldn’t find you.

Well wolves lick their wounds, but he couldn’t lick yours. One, it wouldn’t work, your wounds were too deep, two, he was a human, not a wolf. He knew your friends could help you so he rushed you back to Mondstat (I’m sure this is probably wrong, feel free to roast me).

Although he knew the doctors were just trying to help, he couldn’t stop himself from being aggressive. He even growled at a doctor when you whimpered as you received the stitches. Kaeya and Jean had to hold him back.

No one is allowed near you until you’re fully healed, Razor doesn’t let anyone get close. It’s not just him being super possessive, he was deeply terrified that in case someone attacked you while he wasn’t there…

Your new adventure partner is Razor. Even if he has to live in Mondstat with the other humans, he’ll do it. As long as you’re with him. Don’t bother trying to argue, it won’t work.

You had a teeny weeny competition with Xiangling that you two could find the best ingredients first. You got careless, wandered into a hilichurl camp, only to get floored by 4 mitachurls.

Who hurt you?! Who hurt you and where are they? Xiao just wants to talk.

Thankfully, the boss of the inn was able to find some help for you and helped patch you up, while Xiao waited patiently. On the outside he looked calm, on the inside- well it was chaos. Nothing could calm his anger and anxiety.

He reassured you that you did a great job, letting you know that he was proud of you. Not to mention, he kept thanking you for coming back alive so that he could save you. He didn’t even want to think about what could’ve happened if you weren’t able to come back…

He kept you close. As you healed, he was almost like a personal nurse. He brought you whatever you wanted and lots of almond tofu. If you don’t like it… well more for him.

He was very reluctant to let you go. He couldn’t go with you and it was his biggest regret. But he knew holding you back would do nothing, therefore he poured all his faith and trust in you. So please... come back to him.

You had gone to visit Chang the Ninth and on the way back had seen a village get attacked by some abyss mages. You jumped into action without thinking… at all.

Xingqiu actually hadn’t looked up from his book because he was so invested. You called after him, collapsing nearby but he wasn’t even paying attention. Finally, he heard you scream and jumped, his heart leaping out of his chest. He still won’t forgive himself… or pick up a book.

He immediately takes you back home, carefully carrying you so that he wouldn’t agitate your injuries anymore than they already were.

He stayed by your side and even helped patch you up, wanting to do as much as he could to help. He even kissed your injuries to help them heal faster.

He stays by your side as much as possible. You suggest he read you some books, but it seems like he’s too scared to touch any. Something that might need time to recover from.

Xingqiu’s still too busy to join you, but whenever he can, he definitely does. He is a little too protective in the beginning but as time goes on, he finds himself being able to hold back.

You just needed some chaos devices, just a few. YOU DIDN’T EXPECT TO GET YOUR ASS HANDED TO YOU SO BADLY!

He couldn’t believe it. His heart had almost stopped when he saw you walking towards him. You were covered in blood and you weakly reached out before you fell. He dashed forward and caught you before you hit the ground.

He takes you to his place, getting a doctor to immediately patch you up. As they were cleaning your wounds, he tried to stay calm, yet had this overwhelming urge to destroy whatever hurt you into a million pieces.

He stayed with you, nursing you back to health. Of course, constantly forgetting mora was a thing when buying you literally anything. This will never change.

He wasn’t able to understand why he couldn’t physically let you go in the beginning. Slowly, it made sense that he was scared. Scared he might lose you and that you might never come back. Scared you might disappear like you almost did. But you were… well you. So he had to trust you. Come back home to him safely.

You had just finished up your commissions and were head home when you stumbled upon an Oceanid. You needed a cleansing heart… or four. You weren’t prepared and you were a little tired, but you went anyway. You were lucky you came back alive.

Childe had set up a cute little date for you two, but you were running a little bit late. He was starting to get worried and when he asked Katheryne, he was surprised to learn that you hadn’t returned home from your commissions. Then he saw you. Leaving a trail of blood and limping towards him. He felt as if someone had done all that to him instead.

He immediately runs to you, with Katheryne following. The two of them quickly get you some medical attention, but Childe refuses to let go the entire time. No matter what anyone says, they can’t take you away, so he goes with you everywhere.

You explain what had happened afterwards and he was angry that you’d put yourself in danger for a stupid item. But at the same time, he was proud of you for beating the Oceanid and coming back to him, regardless of what shape you were in. You still got an earful though.

He wanted to be around you 24/7, but he’s really busy. He tries to get away from work as much as he can to spend time with you. Throughout your healing process, he does a lot to help. Simple things like making you meals, the ones that melt your heart.

He was reluctant, constantly checking up on you and even wanting to go on adventures with you. But he couldn’t spend every minute with you, so he needed to learn how to ease his own anxieties. Of course, you would never say no to going on a few adventures with him.

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

Text

A Pain You'll Soon Regret - Pt. 3

Poly!MC Summary: MC and the demon lords get in a fight resulting in MC leaving. They planned on going to Purgatory Hall until things cool off, but they never quite make it there. TW: Heavy Angst, Violence, I don’t know what to tag this, but there is a pretty nasty verbal fight, Gore/Injury

***I legitimately teared up while writing this. This...This is heavy folks. Please remember to take care of yourselves before, during, and after reading this fic. Be safe lovelies ❤ -B ***

Part 1: HERE, Part 2: HERE, Part 4: HERE

The day had passed by agonizingly slow. The brothers really had no choice but to follow Solomon's orders, so they waited. With every second they could feel the invisible hands grasping their hearts squeeze tighter and tighter.

None of them had left the living room where they had gathered. They were all too frightened that an update on your condition would come in and they wouldn't be there to receive it. At least that's what was silently agreed upon. In reality, they were each taking comfort in being with the only people that could possibly understand what the other was going through.

No one knew what to do or say. There really was nothing to do or say. They had promised to always protect you, and because of a foolish argument, they had failed that in the worst way possible. Finally, after nearly twelve hours of radio silence, Asmodeus's D.D.D. dinged.

Asmodeus had never taken his phone out so quickly before. "Simeon and I are awake. MC is still unconscious. We will let you in and try to get you to see MC. Luke is still adamant about not letting you all in, so be ready for him," Asmo read out loud. Satan huffed as he started towards the door. "I don't care who Luke thinks he is, he's not stopping us from seeing our partner. Let's go."

*** As they arrived at the Hall, all of them were shocked to see a trail of now dried blood leading to the doorway. No matter how long it had been there, the scent still made it glaringly obvious that it was yours. Asmodeus gagged and turned his head away from the sight. "If it's already this bad out here, what are we going to be walking into?" He managed to choke out.

Lucifer swallowed down the lump in his throat and marched ahead. "It doesn't matter. Right now, MC needs us. We failed to be there for them earlier, I refuse to do so again." The eldest lead the charge to the front door of Purgatory Hall. He raised his fist to knock when several voices started shouting from the other side. "You never should've called them here!" "Luke, that's not for you to decide. They're-" "I don't care who they are!!!"

The door suddenly was thrown open just enough to reveal Luke.

You would think that the small angel was the Avatar of Wrath and not Satan. He glared at them with all the fury of the Celestial army. His face was red and his teeth were bared in a snarl. Despite all this anger, however, his eyes were still tinged red with tears.

"Leave now! You're not welcome here!" he barked before going to slam the door; Beel quickly caught it with his hand. "We're not leaving until we see MC." A growl that they had never thought they would hear from sweet little Luke, vibrated from deep within his chest before he began throwing himself at the door, clearly doing everything he could to try and close it.

"NO!!! You don't deserve to see them! You monsters are the reason they're like this! GET OUT! LEAVE!!" Simeon suddenly appeared from within the Hall and pulled Luke against his chest. "Luke, stop it! You're going to hurt yourself!" The young angel screamed and struggled as Simeon softly shushed him. It wasn't long before the screams turned into sobs and Luke broke down in Simeon's arms. The brothers didn't know how to react. Was the state you were in truly so bad to merit such an emotional response from Luke? Dread began to grow more and more within them as guilt kept them frozen in place.

The older angel sighed and gently began to rub Luke's back, before looking at the brothers with an emotionless expression. "As you can see, Luke is greatly concerned with MC's well-being, as we all are," he tightened his hold on Luke before he continued. "You may see them-" "WHA- Simeon, no!!!" Simeon gently shushed him and ran a hand through Luke's hair. "I know. I know you don't want them to, Luke, but they love MC just like you do. At the very least, we should let them see the results of their negligence, don't you think?" The lords winced at the jab and the harsh edges on Simeon's words. It was clear that no one in that house truly wanted them there. Luke pouted. "Fine. But I want to be in the room when they do." Simeon nodded and released the young angel. "Of course. I'm sure MC will be grateful for how attentive you've been to them when they wake up." He ruffled Luke's hair before glancing at the brothers once again. "Follow me." Their footsteps echoed through the quiet halls like a death knell. Each one rang louder and louder in the ears of the worried demons. They hadn't even seen you yet, and even so, each and every one of them were already beginning to wonder how they could ever let this happen to you. Images of you might look like flashed inside their heads. Perhaps you would resemble a mummy from the number of bandages required to heal you. Perhaps you would resemble a corpse, half-dead as you struggled to keep your heartbeat steady. No matter what they imagined, however, nothing prepared them for the real thing. Simeon swung open the doors to the lounge without any word or warning. The brothers' stumbled to a stop and collectively choked at the sight. You were laid out on the table in the middle of the room. Gauze covered a large section of the left side of your cheek and a strip around the circumference of your head. What little skin was visible was sunken in, making you appear dead. If it hadn't been for the shallow rising and falling of your chest, the brothers most certainly would have believed you were. Solomon had been in the process of checking the bandages on your shoulder when they entered, giving each of them a good eye full of the deep bite marks that covered your shoulder, collarbone and neck. There was so much red, that they could barely make out what was an injury and what wasn't. With a nauseous thought, they realized that small chunks of skin had even been torn from the flesh. They must have had to remove your clothes at some point during your healing process, for the only thing that covered you was a thin blanket that was trapped over your torso. All, except Satan, recognized it as one of the blankets from the Celestial realm. Though Satan had put two and two together when he spotted the small tag hanging from a corner with Luke's name written on it in golden cursive. The fact that you were barely covered meant that they could clearly see your bandaged thighs and the small, bandaged, stump of where your leg had been cut off from the knee down. The silence was cut off by a strangled sob from Asmodeus.

Solomon's head snapped as he only now noticed everyone. Rather than moving comfort the demon whom he's had a pact with for centuries, Solomon only narrowed his eyes into a glare and silently went back to work.

Asmodeus moved towards you, shakily reaching out a hand to touch. But he was stopped as Luke quickly slapped the hand away. The angel starred icily at him. "They're still recovering, you idiot. Touch them with your filthy infernal hands and you could infect and kill them."

Asmodeus snarled through his tears, and opened his mouth to shout at Luke, but was stopped when a hand sat on his shoulder. He glanced over to see Satan shaking his head as tears ran down his cheeks.

"He's right," Satan whispered, not bothering to hide the pain in his tone. "They're in an extremely fragile state. We should all, at the very least, wash our hands first." the others looked at him surprised. There wasn't a trace of anger in his voice. Only grief and regret. Satan looked over at Solomon, "Then I'm sure we'd all like to sit with them?"

The others held their breath as they waited for the reply, but Solomon simply remained silent and refused to acknowledge them. "Please," Beelzebub begged through a sob. Belphie held on tightly to his twin's hand. It may have looked as though he had down it to comfort Beel, but in reality, that hand was the only thing keeping him on his feet. Beel took in a stuttered breath before continuing, "W-We messed up last night, and we can't t-take that back, but I-I need to be with them right now. Please. I-I can't leave them again." Again there was only silence, with the exception of Luke grumbling under his breath from where he sat beside you. Mammon huffed and moved towards the basin of water that had been set up on a side table. "Well I'm done waiting for permission," he thoroughly washed his hands and moved towards MC when Simeon moved in front of him. Mammon growled and had to keep himself from bursting into his demon form. "What's the big deal?! You said we could see 'em!" "I said see. Not touch," the angel provided pointedly. Leviathan frowned and came to Mammon's side. "Luke is literally holding their hand right now! He cleaned his hands! There's no reason why Luke should be able to touch them, when we, their significant others can't!" Luke's nostrils flared as he went to lunge at the demon, but was stopped by Solomon putting a hand on his shoulder. The young angel huffed and settled for snarling at them. "I was the one that saved them! I was the one that washed the blood off of their skin after Simeon and Solomon both nearly collapsed from exhaustion after working for four hours straight on keeping them alive. I was there for them! And you weren't!" "We messed up!" Leviathan screamed back, his demon form bursting into existence as he cried. "We messed up and we want to make things better! We want to be there for them now! You can't just keep us from them!" "Leviathan," Lucifer placed a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "Breathe. Please, I know you're upset. We all are. But we shouldn't forget what caused all of this in the first place." Leviathan ripped himself away from Lucifer's grasp and turned away from everyone. The occasional sob could be heard from him as his shoulders trembled. Lucifer sighed and looked pleadingly at Simeon. "Simeon, please. I know you owe us nothing and that MC may not even want to see them when they awake. But look at them. They're-" he cut himself off as his voice cracked and took a deep breath, "We're a mess. Please, just let us have a moment with them. That's all I ask." For the first time, Simeon's expression softened. He gathered up Luke and nodded at Solomon. The wizard pursed his lips in annoyance and glanced at the brothers once more before leaving the room. Simeon gave Lucifer a hard look as he held on tightly to Luke. "You will notify us immediately should even the slightest thing change from their current condition." Luke gaped at his fellow angel. "Simeon! No! We can't just leave them with those demons! Are you insane?" Simeon gave Luke a small smile. "They won't hurt them. I truly believe they wish to reconcile things and apologize for their words and actions. No matter how upset you may feel, this isn't our relationship Luke. It is not our place to meddle. MC will be safe with them." Luke grumbled under his breath and glowered at the brothers. "If so much as a hair is out of place when I get back, not even Micheal will be able to stop me from the vengeance I will inflict upon you." Mammon opened his mouth make a comeback, but was cut off by Lucifer. "Understood. Thank you for looking after our beloved in our absence." Luke scoffed and shook his head, before leaving with Simeon following behind him. The brothers stood in the room alone. They were with you, and yet they had never felt so far from you. ***To be continued in part 4! Still don't quite know how this will end, but it's bound to hurt. Sorry not sorry. In between uploading parts of this series, I will be doing other fics as well, just since this seems to be quite longer than I

had originally thought 😅 Thank you all for supporting this series! I hope you enjoyed it. Remember to drink water and take care of yourselves! I love you all!***

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venusiangguk · 3 years

Text

gold rush pt. 2 | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader

>>genre: pwp, v little plot, smut, kinda fluffy, college au (kinda), established relationship

>>word count: 8.9k

>>warnings: romantic ass eating 😐, oral (m), fingering (m/f), butt stuff but it’s SEXY, explicit sex, crying, jungkook likes to be praised, soft koo, dom reader... but like soft, spitting in mouth, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, this is so soft, that good smut, literally like 7.5k of filth

>>notes: hot girls eat ass!! oc is a hot girl!! this involves butt stuff (just mouth and fingers, no pegging 😔), so if that isn’t ur cup of tea just read pt 1 again lol, i separated it this way in case there were people who weren’t down to go down... iykyk. but with that said, i encourage u to open ur eyes and ur mind and give this a chance 🤩

>>summary: jk finally lets you eat his ass 😁👍🏻

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

It’s day 6 of trying to get Jeongguk to let you eat his ass. It’s getting hard to function, and the sun doesn’t shine as bright as it used to. The week has been a rough one, filled with clenched butt cheeks, and fewer blow jobs than normal. You just can’t seem to stop yourself from wandering south when you’re down there, so you’ve lost the privilege. Constantly met with Jeongguk’s laughter filled eyes when he pulls you up to where you’re supposed to be, and a “You should not want to eat my ass this bad.”

He just doesn’t understand.

Currently you’re sat in the cafeteria with your friends, your eyes consistently roaming to a table across the large room. He’s laughing at something and his hands are clapping in front of him as he throws his head back. You rest your head on your arms, pouting, and you breathe a deep and miserable sigh.

“Alright y/n what the fuck?” Your friend Yuna says, flicking your cheeks.

Her speaking up causes a few of your other girlfriends at the table to direct their attention towards you. “Yeah, you’ve been like... pouty for the last few days. What’s going on?” Cho questions as well.

You debate keeping the silly internal struggle to yourself before giving in and stating plainly, “Gguk won’t let me eat his ass.” You blow absently at a piece of hair that falls into your face, eyes crossing as you look at it. Next to you, Jiwoo chokes on the zero cal drink that she’s been sipping.

Yuna stares at you blankly for a moment before recovering. “That’s... well that’s a predicament.” She hums in thought. “Does he actually not want to or is he just being shy and stubborn?”

“Second one.” You say. You’ve known your boyfriend for years and you’ve definitely learned how to tell when he’s being serious and when he’s just being stubborn. If you really thought he wasn’t about it you would have dropped it. But you know Jeongguk’s just being difficult because he thinks it’s funny to make you pine, and actually has at least some curiosity about the act. He just won’t admit it.

“Minjun was the same way,” Cho nods in solidarity. “But he likes it now.”

“How’d you get him to change his mind?” You ask perking up. A beacon of hope.

“We watched porn of it together.”

“That’s how I discovered it!” You gasp.

You pull your phone out to text your boyfriend.

you:

minjun let’s cho eat his ass 🥺

You watch Jeongguk from across the room and see the moment he receives the text. He searches the lunch room before his eyes land on yours and he let’s out an incredulous harsh laugh, before shaking his head slightly to himself. You glance at your phone and see the text bubble appear in your messages.

koo 🥴:

maybe he’ll let you eat it too 🥺

You gape at your phone and look at your boyfriend only to see him talking to his friends again. He gives you a side glance and you see his smile grow bigger as he tries to ignore you.

~~~

Jeongguk’s sitting at his lunch table picking at the food in front of him listening as Jimin rambles about the not-so-great grade he got on his latest science test. “Why the fuck do I need to know that the sun will make it too hot for life to exist on earth in a couple billion years? Not only will I be dead, but that is just anxiety inducing.”

His phone that’s vibrating on the table catches his attention, a picture message from you on the home screen. He gets a little excited at the sheer potential that a picture message has and opens it eagerly. Sure the chances of getting a titty pic when it’s mid-day and you’re both in the middle of a lunch cafeteria are small... but they are never zero.

When he opens the message and sees the picture, he laughs loudly before clapping his hand over his mouth to quiet himself.

baby 🥺💘😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

He’s about to respond when Taehyung says, “Alright, you can’t keep laughing at your phone and not tell us what’s so funny.”

Jeongguk looks at the couple in front of him a trace of a smile still lingers on his lips. He shows them what you sent. “Y/n wants to eat my ass so bad.” He laughs to himself, going back to his phone.

“Are you not letting her?” Jimin asks.

Jeongguk sets his phone to the side before he gets to respond. It’s clear his friends are ready to have a conversation about it. “I don’t think so.”

Jimin and Taehyung look at each other and smirk. “Why not? It feels really good.”

He looks between them silently before asking, “You’ve done it?” He receives two nods.

“This one’s a real ass-muncher.” Taehyung says jerking a thumb at his boyfriend. Jimin swats at him.

“He says like that like its a bad thing and like he doesn’t cum from just my mouth and my fingers.” Jimin rolls his eyes.

Jeongguk tenses and turns a little red. A little tremor of heat coursing through his body at the thought of feeling so good that he could cum without even having a hand around himself. “Just from that? No dick touching? Is that even possible?”

“Oh to be straight and oblivious to the wonders of butt stuff.” Jimin pouts at him like he feels bad for him.

Taehyung on the other hand is a bit more helpful. He pops a fry in his mouth and talks with his mouth full, “It’s possible. We have like a button in our ass that’s like... magic. You know what a prostate is right?”

Jeongguk scoffs. “Obviously.”

“Okay well let her put her fingers and tongue in your ass then, if you know so much about it. Have you eaten hers?”

“Yeah I’ve had my tongue in every crevice of that girls body.” He’s nodding and smiling like he’s proud. He glances at you, and he sees you huddled next to your friend, looking closely at something on her phone, your long hair falling like a curtain over your shoulder, some pooling on the table. You look so pretty. You feel his stare, and look at him. Your smile is soft, and your lips pucker in a little kiss. Chuu.

“Right,” Jimin says bringing Jeongguk back to the topic at hand, “Well if she let you, and you’re open to it you should let her... like it will actually feel better for you than it probably did for her.” Jeongguk looks like he’s about to defend his honor and sex skills, before Jimin cuts him off, “Not saying you didn’t do it right or whatever. It’s just that guys are like programmed to like it... like biologically or- something.”

“Or something.” Jeongguk repeats.

“Why don’t you want to in the first place? Is it because you think it’s gay?” Taehyung asks laughing, knowing that that’s not why.

Jeongguk gives him a bored deadpanned stare. “No. Maybe it’s because I shit out of my ass and don’t want her mouth near it? She’s perfect, she doesn’t deserve that.”

Jimin cackles. “Well it’s not like you just let her go for it! You have to prepare.”

Jeongguk sits and listens as his friends give him nothing less than a full comprehensive lecture on the logistics of ass eating and ass getting ate. Ass 101. He’s still unsure but hearing from guys who have actually done it and enjoyed it makes him feel a bit more open and curious. It has him pulling out his phone and tentatively typing out a text to you, finally replying to the picture you sent.

me:

i’m thinking about it

He watches you, waiting for the text to get to you. He smiles when he sees you get excited at seeing his name on your home screen, something warm blossoming in his chest. He struggles to keep his face straight when he sees your head whip up, looking at him wide-eyed like you can’t believe what he just texted you. His fingers wiggle in a small wave, and the biggest smile slowly crawls across your face. He receives one last message before lunch ends.

baby 🥺💘😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

say less, sir 🤤

~~~

Jeongguk lays on his back patiently, looking down at you below him while you take your time planting soft kisses all the way down his body. He was in a quite docile mood considering all the pestering you’ve put him through the past few days. And despite what you both knew you had planned for him. Something he claimed to be nervous about, but you supposed one could be nervous and excited and pliant all at once.

When you take one of his nipples into your mouth he lets out a soft “oh...” his hands flying up like he wants to wrap them in your hair, hold you there till he’s pleased, but he catches himself when his arms are halfway raised. He brings them back down by his sides, fists the sheets like he’s holding himself back, like he wants to be good for you. As you lick and suck on the paired nipple, feeling it pebble in your mouth, you watch Jeongguk’s mouth fall open silently while his eyebrows furrow and a wrinkle of pleasure forms between them. His cock is steadily going from warm and plump to hot and hard and leaking, you can feel it twitch against your lower belly.

He opens his eyes to watch you and you can see his pupils are blown and you smile up at him, a tiny bud still pulled between your teeth and Jeongguk whines. A high pitch needy, breathy noise falls from his lips before he pulls his bottom one between his teeth. His head turns to the side, baring his neck in subconscious submission, and God. He doesn’t get like this often but when he does? He is the prettiest sight.

Heat pools in your belly and your panties are already sticking to your bottom half. You hum before moving your ministrations to his torso, soft wet open mouth kisses being placed any and everywhere, prolonged ones on each of his abs. He works so hard for his body, his physique. It’s something he does for himself, but you feel lucky that you get to see him like this in all of his glory.

“Thank you.” You say as you place a kiss on the tattoo he has on his hip bone.

He hums, “For what?”

“For letting me see you like this,” You finally wrap a hand around his cock. You bite your lip when you feel it jump in your palm, “For letting me explore today. You’re so sexy, and so lovely, and so perfect. You work so hard, baby.” Kisses, so many kisses planted over his groin area, but never where he wants it most.

He huffs and you can see a flush from embarrassment darken the already present flush of arousal, due to the praise and mention of exploring. He squirms in your hold, not wanting to talk, probably wishing you would just get on with it already. Surely you can feel him throbbing in your hand, right?

Finally, you bring your lips to his frenulum and place the softest kitten lick to it and Jeongguk positively keens in your hold. You stroke his cock, squeezing on the upstroke to watch a bead of precum well at the top. It glistens, shiny and clear, at the pink head. You wrap your lips around the tip fully, lapping and swirling your tongue over it, humming at the heady, slightly bitter taste on your tongue. It’s not particularly pleasant per se but it’s sexy. The fact you get him so worked up that his cock can’t help but leak, so worked up that he can’t help the soft little whines that fall from his lips; the fact that he gets so turned on and hard and wet just from a few of your kisses and licks makes you moan with his cock in your mouth, thighs squeezing together for some type of pressure and relief.

You pop off with a harsh suck. “I can’t wait to taste you.” You groan, licking a broad stripe up his cock with the flat of your tongue.

He grumbles quietly shifting, sort of like he’s antsy and frustrated. He knows what you mean and he knows you don’t mean his cock that you just had in your mouth.

“What was that?” You ask through a smile, nipping at his hip with your teeth.

“Can you stop talking about it and just suck my dick so I can forget you’re even gonna do that?” He rolls his eyes and pouts down at you with a tiny scowl on his face.

“Oh baby,” You laugh, not patronizingly, but there is a little bit of a teasing lilt to your voice, “Are you still embarrassed?”

He doesn’t answer, just scowls harder if that was even possible.

You move away from his cock, and up his body. His eyes reflect panic and his hands finally move from the sheets to press on your shoulders, trying to keep you in place. “No, stay,” he whines.

You laugh again pushing against his hold before finally settling half on his chest. You rest a leg over his thigh, keeping your body close and pressed to his. You look into his big brown doe eyes that are slightly glassy from all the teasing. You can see some apprehension and nervousness swimming in them as you place a hand on his cheek, stroking softly. He closes his eyes and nuzzles into your palm before his hand comes up to hold your wrist, to just touch some more. His other hand runs up and down your body that’s resting half on top of him, tickling slightly like your the one that needs attention. He kisses your hand that’s on his cheek softly before looking at you again.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” You say quietly, thumb brushing over his cheek bone.

His eyes fall closed again and you can see his brow furrow once more, though this time it isn’t out of pleasure it’s because he’s thinking. Despite all the playful teasing and pestering and banter, you’ve always made sure to check that he was actually okay with you going down there. And, yeah, he was nervous but after talking about it seriously and doing some research together he always said he was fine with it. But you know things can change in the moment and you just want to double check, make sure that he still feels that way.

You hum in question gently, prompting a response.

He huffs, tightening his grip on your wrist, a nervous gesture. His eyes are still closed when he quietly says, “No I just... I- I’m not like backing out...”

“You can though.” You interrupt.

His eyes open quickly, and he shakes his head. “No, no I want to I just...” His voice starts off strong but tappers into a softer tone. “I want to I just feel a bit like... weird.”

Your brow furrows this time. “Why, baby?”

“I feel like I shouldn’t want you to.” He doesn’t meet your eyes and you can feel his cheek heat up in your palm.

Ahhhh, you think. Although you talked and teased about the topic, you realize that while Jeongguk agreed (whilst impishly feigning a faux diswant on principle) you never realized that the lighthearted “You shouldn’t want to eat my ass this bad” remarks may have stemmed from something serious, and weren’t just playful protests.

“Why do you feel that way?” You press gently.

His eyes flicker to you and then to your mouth, then back to something (nothing) off to the side. He has a small not-so-amused smile on his lips when he says, “It’s kinda taboo isn’t it?”

You can’t help but giggle at the word he used. Taboo. Out of all the things you guys have done, this is what he chooses to get shy about. Sweet boy.

“Not any more tabooo than you wanting to eat my ass, or fuck my ass.” You hum at him, stretching out the word in a teasing manner, making him look at you. You smile at him before continuing, “Or you like slapping me, or me gagging you with my panties, or-“

“Okay okay! I get it.” He laughs and places a kiss to your lips to get them to stop moving.

You beam, glad to see he’s a bit more relaxed. The boner however, is definitely gone, but that can be fixed.

“I’m not trying to convince you though.” You emphasize, “I only want to if you want to.”

He nods, softly smiling at you. “I want to.”

A salacious grin takes over your face and you sigh softly into his ear before whispering, “Perfect... I’m going to make you feel so good baby, make you feel so good with my tongue. Get you all whiny and red and sweaty. Maybe your legs will start to shake from how good it feels? Do you want that, Jeongguk?” You nip at his ear lobe as you feel a slight tremor run through his body. Your hips subtly roll against the side of his body, seeking any friction at this point. You feel him nod. “Maybe if you like my mouth enough we can use fingers when you’re ready baby.” You hear him suck in a sharp breath and slowly let it out on a shaky exhale. You grin and place a kiss to his temple before continuing. “Get them inside of you to find that spot that will really set you off. The spot that will make you cum for me. Wouldn’t that feel so good baby?”

He nods again and you can feel the hand that has been running up and down your back throughout the conversation grip at your ass roughly.

“Say it baby, I wanna hear you.”

He whines and struggles against the hand on his face that is now gripping his jaw, still putting up a little bit of a fight about wanting something he considers “taboo”. But he gives in easily enough when he realizes you won’t continue until you get more confirmation that he genuinely wants this, and is excited to have it.

“It’s gonna feel so good y/n. God, you’re gonna make me feel so good.” He’s shy when he says it, but he’s almost panting as well. At last, he’s giving in and admitting to himself that this is something that will feel good and is okay to want.

He grips your face and kisses you. It starts slow and tentative but quickly manifests into a kiss that is deep and hard, one that is full of lust and neediness. He bites at your lip needing to release some of the pent up frustration but at your whine of pain he licks over it apologetically, placing softer kisses instead for a moment before he rests his forehead against yours, both your breathing is ragged for a minute until he speaks up.

“Please y/n. I’m so hard.” He pleads in a soft whisper.

You take a second and look down between your bodies and sure enough, his cock has returned to full hardness, and your mouth waters seeing even more precum welling at the tip than before.

“I’m gonna suck it.”

“Please do.” Jeongguk laughs as you move down his body, but the laugh goes high pitched and breathy when you take him down your throat immediately.

“Fuck...” he sighs, his head falling back and eyes fluttering.

You pull off and close your eyes, relishing in the fact that you can make him feel like this. Grinning against his cock you place a kitten kiss to the shaft. “Good baby?”

He nods his head. “Yes yes, please keep going.”

You hum against the head causing Jeongguk to exhale sharply, hips twitching due to the vibrations. He’s so sensitive and you crave the reactions you pull from him. Whether they’re the soft noises and the small twitches or the loud moans and jerking muscles, they are all equally loved and desired.

Quickly you pull off and reach up placing your hand under his mouth, before he can protest at you pausing again. Maybe you’re being a little mean, but he sounds so pretty when he’s desperate and you just can’t help yourself.

“Spit.” You instruct.

You see him work his jaw, sharp edges protruding here and there while he gathers some in his mouth before spitting it into your hand. You peck a nipple on the way back down to his cock wrapping the spit filled hand around him. You see him watching you and you hold eye contact as you gather some of your own and let it drool from your mouth landing on the tip of his cock. You swear you see his eyes go impossibly darker, his jaw clenching, hands turning to fists in the sheets beneath you both.

When you stroke, mixing everything, his eyes close and he lets out a breath through his nose as he rests back and gets a little more comfortable. It’s not too messy, just the perfect amount of wetness for the glide to be slick and pleasing for him. You tighten your grip and twist under the head watching as the muscles in his stomach and thighs tense, a soft grunt draws your gaze to his face.

“Yeah... like that...” he whispers. He’s just barely rocking his hips into your hands, trying to be subtle while also trying to chase the feeling.

You speed up your hand, keeping up the movements he likes while adding your tongue to flick at the underside of his head. You glance at him and find him watching you again, a fucked out look on his face, mouth slightly parted and a bead of sweat running down his temple. Slowly you sink down watching him till you can’t anymore, burying the tip of your nose in the soft patch of neatly kept hair at the base of his cock. When you feel him hit the back of your throat you contract it and shake your head from side to side and finally, finally you pull out one of his loud and unrestrained moans. It goes straight to your pussy, making it feel like it’s pulsing in your panties.

You come up for a breath before you stay down as long as you can repeating the same actions that pulled the lovely moans from his throat and you continue to hear them as you feel him start to sink his hips, almost like he’s overwhelmed and trying to pull away from how good it feels, like he can’t handle how how good it feels.

In your peripheral vision you can see his hands twitching like he’s fighting with himself before he gives in and sinks them into your hair, pulling slightly before pushing your head down and bringing his hips back up. He’s not fucking your face, but he let’s his cock sink as far back as it can and let’s you work your throat around him, lets himself get overwhelmed instead of pulling away from the feeling like he was before.

Jeongguk was a head pusher in every sense of the term. Some people hated when their partners did that, but you loved it. You loved it because Jeongguk was different from most head pushers. He had variety. Sometimes he liked pushing your head down and holding you there to choke you and watch tears form in your eyes, to watch your makeup run while you struggled to breathe. Sometimes he did it in a face-fucking way, his hips jackhammering while he moved your head up and down just the way he wanted it. This time though, he held your head down in a begging way. In a way that said “Oh god please, please don’t stop, it feels so fucking good, please stay there forever”.

Jeongguk is whimpering above you and you hum and moan loudly sending strong vibrations up your throat and down his cock and he’s thrashing, throwing his head back, grip in your hair tightening, a pleasant pain on your scalp.

“Oh my fucking god,” He groans, neck extended and his eyes squeezed shut.

His whole body is burning when you bring a hand down to massage his balls while still moving your throat against his tip and then all of a sudden he tenses and stills before he’s pulling you off, frantically chanting “Stop it, stop it.”

At lightening speed you grip the base of his cock, squeezing, trying to keep his orgasm at bay. Jeongguk’s whole body jerks with his cock, but no cum leaks out, only precum and spit making a mess on his angry, swollen cock. He relaxes back for a moment, cock still jumping, chest rising and falling as he catches his breath and you do the same and after you slowly release the hold you have on his cock you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

Suddenly your world is blurry and you’re quickly being pulled to his chest and smothered with his hands on your cheeks, and his lips everywhere they can reach.

“God. You’re so good, so so good y/n. So perfect, make me feel so good baby. How do you do it?” He praises you between kisses and you giggle, gently pawing at his chest to get him to stop or at least slow down.

He does and you take a second to look at him. And he’s glowing. His eyes are shining, like he was close to tears and his cheeks are flushed. His sweaty hair sticks to his forehead in places while the longer pieces are fanned out on the pillow underneath him. And his smile. He’s beaming and you are so in love.

You bring a hand up and brush some sweaty strands back off his face. His eyes close and he pushes into the touch like a kitten wanting pets. He sighs contentedly.

“You’re so beautiful, Jeongguk. So pretty.” You whisper, placing a kiss to his forehead.

You bring your hand down from his hair and cradle his cheek, running your thumb over his plump, red bottom lip. You can see faint teeth marks underneath it from where he was biting it. His eyelashes flutter on his cheek as his eyes close and he sighs quietly before he nibbles on the fingertip with his front teeth and then takes the whole thing into his mouth, sucking on it. You gasp quietly, and apply light pressure pushing down on the wetness of his tongue prying his mouth open and he just lets you.

Your lips find his, and you dip your tongue into his open mouth before your hand moves to his jaw to keep it agape and you fuck your tongue into it.

“This is how my tongue is gonna fuck you...” you whisper.

He whines high and needy, and his hands move to cup your cheeks. You moan before settling over him more comfortably and pushing your soaked panties to the side before wiggling till his cock is settled between your lips.

The night was supposed to be about him, but you need something before you lose it. You move your hips in small little thrusts, the length of his cock rubbing deliciously over you clit. You both gasp into each others mouths. The hands on your ass encourage you, pressing into your cheeks and the small of your back whenever you thrust forward, and the thumbs on your hips push when you grind back.

“Holy fuck you’re so wet.” He’s says it like he’s in awe, like he can’t believe it. Like he hasn’t made you this way so many times before.

You rest your forehead on his while continuing to grind on his cock. “Love you like this...” You grip his jaw again and pry it open, even though you know he would open willingly if you just asked. You look in his eyes searching, before you feel him nod in your hold. You lean forward over his mouth and let some spit fall into it, he moans while he eagerly drinks it down.

His grip on your hips tightens and you feel his cock jerk against your clit, but he’s good. He doesn’t cum.

“I love it too... just not all the time... it’s- a lot. Overwhelming.” He whispers, and you coo.

“I know baby, you’re doing so well. Color?” You ask.

“Green.” He answers without hesitation.

You smile and kiss him. “Wanna keep going?”

He flushes when he nods his head. “Please.”

Once again you find yourself between Jeongguk’s legs. You play with his cock a little before smoothing your hands under his thighs, trying to gently push them up and back but he whines and resists.

“You have to let me see baby.” You say, a smile in your voice.

Jeongguk squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath before slowly letting his legs fall apart.

You hum, before saying, “Hand me a pillow please.”

He’s confused but does as you ask, understanding when you tap the side of his cheek with instructions to lift his hips, pillow settling underneath his ass and lower back, propping them up a little.

You settle back down on your tummy, and open his legs again. Jeongguk says nothing but you can feel his body shaking a little with a constant tremor. He takes a deep breath settling back into the pillow he placed behind his head so he can watch what you do next.

“Ready?” You ask, hands gripping at the meaty inside parts of his thighs. You get a stiff nod, but still no noises. You pout but get started by running your tongue flat over his balls, hoping to ease him into it.

You feel his thighs tense, as you lap at the hairless balls, sucking them into your mouth every once in a while. Your eyes constantly flicker to Jeongguk’s face to make sure there’s nothing wrong, but all you see is pleasure on his face while he breathes out in soft little puffs through his nose. His eyes are hooded and his lip is drawn between his teeth.

You hold his heady gaze and you place your first little lick on his perineum. At the contact, his head falls back, mouth hanging open. You wiggle closer to place a kiss to the area, transitioning to quick little flicks of your tongue and Jeongguk moans, and you watch as he spreads a bit more, lifting his feet so his knees are pulled closer to his chest, giving you easier access. You moan at his eagerness, and have to stop for a minute, putting a hand between your legs to just press on your center for some kind of relief.

His eyes are still closed, like he doesn’t want to see you between his legs licking at his most private area, but his quiet whining and restless shifting is enough to let you know that he’s okay and enjoying it.

You bring your hands up and place one on each of his cheeks, squeezing a little, admiring the soft give of his muscles. He’s so plush. You apply pressure so his legs fall farther back and then spread him apart. You bite your lip and your mouth waters at the thought of how good your going to make him feel.

Tentatively you poke your tongue out and trace it around the little ring of muscle. He gasps and tries to clench and close his legs but you hold them in place.

“It’s okay baby.”

“‘S weird...” He mumbles.

“I know. Just try to relax for me, okay?”

You hear him take a few deep breaths before you feel his body shake with a nod. His legs fall open again and you make quick work of his hole, placing your tongue flat over it, dragging all the way up to where his balls meet his perineum.

“Ohhh,” He breathes out.

You take that as a good sign before getting a bit rougher with your actions, less of the tentative licks and more of some tight sucking and quick flicking. He’s doing so well and you can hear him moaning above you. His cock is so hard and swollen on his belly, neglected and leaking.

“Pull your legs back baby.”

He opens his eyes and they are unfocused. It takes him a second to process what you asked him to do, but once he does he moves quickly. He has a hazy look in his eyes, his mouth in parted slightly, and his tongue peaks out to wet his lips as he gets comfortable in the new position.

“Watch me?” You plead, while licking over his hole again, eyes not leaving him waiting for a response.

His eyes close for just a moment and a wrinkle of pleasure forms between his brows and his cock jumps, a little spurt of precum oozing out. He inhales and opens his eyes on the exhale, breathing out a small “Okay.”

Once you start to figure out what he likes and what makes him happy, all you hear is the steadily getting louder pleased noises falling from his lips. You point your tongue and gently push past the tight ring of muscles and Jeongguk sobs. He brings a hand to his face and rubs over it, before throwing his arm over his face, hiding because he’s so overwhelmed. To your surprise he starts to gently rock against your tongue.

“Oh my god you’re so hot Jeongguk,” You moan.

“Don’t stop,” He begs. He sounds close to tears.

“Touch yourself, baby.”

You wait until you see his hand wrap around his cock giving himself a few slow strokes, wet eyes on you, waiting for you to keep going.

As soon as your mouth meets him again, his hand he has on his cock starts moving faster, almost frantically over his length and his hips are stuttering like he doesn’t know if he wants to fuck his hand or if he wants to fuck himself back onto your tongue. You decide for him and hold his hips close to your face, sucking repeatedly on the ring of fluttering muscle.

Jeongguk gasps, “I’m close, I wanna cum y/n- Please, I-“ His head falls back and his hand doesn’t slow.

You give your hum of approval against his hole, and watch him fall apart.

His head is thrown back and he’s so sweaty from working so hard for his release. His chest rises and falls in quick staccato breaths, and his free hand goes up to a nipple, lightly rubbing his thumb over it and he keens, before he goes silent, whole body stuttering and he chokes out nothing more than a quick, quiet “Cumming” before his cock pulses and shoots out 1, 2, 3 stripes of white, the rest dribbling down his length and over his fingers. His body almost convulses from the pleasure coursing through his veins. He keeps stroking, and he lets you keep licking until he squirms, uncomfortable from the overstimulation.

You wipe your mouth and immediately make your way up to his face, straddling his hips. You don’t care about the cum, but you’re carful to avoid his sensitive cock, which is a little deflated but still laying somewhat hard on his tummy. You’re both out of breath when you slam your lips against his so it’s more gasping into each other’s mouths while your lips occasionally meet before you need a breath again. But you’re desperate to show him how good he did.

You pull back and grip his face in your hands. His hands hold your wrists, like he’s keeping them in place on his cheeks. He’s still catching his breath with his eyes closed, but you want him to see how proud you are.

“Jeongguk, look at me.”

He does and his eyes are glassy and wet and his eyelashes are clumped together with unshed tears. He offers you a sheepish smile.

“You did so good baby. So fucking good. I love you.” You pepper kisses over his face.

He laughs breathlessly, “Didn’t get to your fingers...”

You laugh with him quietly. “That’s okay baby, we can do that next time. You were perfect.” You take a deep breath and collapse on top of him, resting your face in the crook of his neck, smiling while leaving small lovebites all over.

After a minute or so though, you feel him start to get restless underneath you.

“What is it baby?” You ask not really moving much.

He mumbles something into the top of your head.

“Huh?” You say sitting up to look at him.

He looks kinda petulant for someone who just came so hard it hit their neck.

He mumbles again.

“Koo. Words.”

He blushes and scowls looking away from you but the hands settled on your hips rub small circles into your hip bones, showing he’s not actually mad and most likely just being a brat.

“I want them now.” It’s quiet and pouty, but at least you understand him this time.

Your mouth opens in understanding but your eyebrows raise in surprise. You look over your shoulder and down to see his cock still laying plump and hard on his stomach in a little puddle of cum.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to, I know we said that was the plan but we can always do it ano-“

He grabs the back of your neck pulls you down to kiss you deep and slow, his tongue finding it’s way into your mouth. When he speaks again it’s soft against your lips.

“Please y/n... it felt so good,” A tiny peck is given as your noses touch.

You exhale a shaky breath, “Yeah, okay. If that’s what you want.”

He kisses you deeply again, but positions you over his cock so he can rut up into your pussy.

“Can’t you feel how bad I want it?” He whispers against your lips. He nips at the bottom one while smiling before pulling away and settling against the pillows again, looking at you expectantly once he gets comfortable.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Big words coming from someone who claimed they didn’t even want this like an hour ago.” You smile down at him, eyes sparkling.

He snickers. He breathes a deep sigh before settling back even more. “Yeah. That was before I came so hard that I almost blacked out.” His hands are behind his head and his eyes are closed like he’s reminiscing about a distant memory, a smug smile on his lips.

“You switch from being my baby to a pain so fast.” You pout as you settle once again between Jeongguk’s legs.

He parts them with a hum. “Still your baby... just- make me feel good please, I’m like so hard- throbbing.”

You suck on your fingers a little bit to get them wet before circling one around the ring of muscles. You don’t miss the tiny gasp, or the way his legs subconsciously part even wider.

“I don’t think it’s gonna feel the best at first....” You warn, applying the slightest pressure to his hole, before going back to circling it. “Hand me the lube on the nightstand please.”

Jeongguk obliges before he says, “I know just... go slow.” He sounds just a little bit nervous.

You give a quick nod while you open up Jeongguk’s half empty bottle of lube and drizzle some onto your fingers, lathering it over them to warm it some before getting them into position.

“Do you think about me when you use this?” you ask still running your slick fingers over him.

He nods and licks his lips subconsciously. “Mhmm sometimes.”

You fake gasp and bite at his knee by your side. You’re sitting crisscross applesauce in between his legs. “Only sometimes?”

“I watch porn too,” He giggles breathlessly. “Sometimes I look for girls that look like you though, if that helps.”

“It does not.” You say indignantly, only half joking.

He brings his foot up and lightly kicks at your leg. “You watch porn too that’s literally why we are in this mess right now. We watched it together.”

You full on laugh at that. He has a point. “Okay enough, hush and relax baby.”

You weren’t sure if it was better to warn Jeongguk, or just slowly ease him into it without saying anything. If you warned him you knew he would tense up and it would just make it harder on his body, but you also didn’t want to take him by surprise either.

You must have just been circling his rim for a minute because Jeongguk huffs before asking, “Are you gonna like... put it in or...?”

You take that as a go, and peck the inside of his thigh a preemptive apology because you knew it was going to hurt a little. Jeongguk had prepped you for the times you tried anal with him and you vividly remember the sting before it became bearable. Your hands and fingers were much smaller than his, and certainly much smaller than his cock, so you are hoping the pain isn’t too horrible and ends quickly.

Oh so slowly you start to sink your middle finger inside of him. He sucks in a breath through his teeth and when you flick your eyes up to look at him you can see his eyes squeezed shut tightly and his jaw clenched.

“I’m sorry are you okay? Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t really hurt yet, it’s just uncomfortable... Keep going.”

You nod softly before you resume what you were doing, and once you get down to your last knuckle, you wiggle your finger around inside for a second like you had seen in the porn that you and him watched together, hoping to stretch him out some.

Above you Jeongguk is taking shallow breaths the sort of sound like they are getting a little higher pitched at the end, and he shifts and wiggles a bit because of the foreign feeling. You glance at his cock and see that’s its gone just a little soft.

“Touching yourself might help you relax a little bit and it might make it feel a little bit better.” You suggest lightly.

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything but he does as he’s told, slowly stroking his cock back to it’s full length.

“That’s it, good boy. I can feel you’re less tense already.” You praise, and you start to move your finger in and out. It’s tight, but there’s a lot less resistance. You move them just a bit faster and focus on Jeongguk’s reactions.

His hand has started to move a bit faster over his cock, and his mouth is parted and his eyes are closed, like he’s lost in the feeling. There’s a flush on his face that has travelled all the way down his chest. Soft moans fall from his lips occasionally, although you can’t tell if that’s from you or him touching himself.

“Does it feel good?” You ask, genuinely curious.

“It feels…” He pauses like he’s unsure. “It feels… nice. I think.”

You snort. “You think?”

He laughs a little breathless, hand still stroking over his cock. “I mean it’s weird. But it’s not unpleasant. I could probably cum if I kept touching my dick.”

“Don’t cum, I haven’t found your button yet.” Your eyebrows furrow, determination set on your face.

“I do not have a button.” He says absently.

“You do. I’m gonna do the second one kay?”

“I don’t and okay.”

You ignore him and grab the lube again, adding a bit more. Your fingers find their place and as they start to sink in, Jeongguk sucks a sharp breath through his teeth, and goes rigid. You wince.

“Hurts…” He says quietly.

“I’m sorry baby.” You rub your free hand over his thigh, trying to comfort him. You give him a moment, he takes a few breaths before saying to keep going.

It takes a little bit but eventually you get both fingers in. Jeongguk isn’t feeling good yet, teeth grinding, body tense, and hands fisted in the sheets trying to ground himself, but you are determined to make it good for him. You get on your stomach and add your tongue to your fingers as you start to pull them out just to push them back in. The lube doesn’t taste very good, but the way that Jeongguk’s breath hitches when he feels your mouth on him again makes up for it.

“I- I love that.” He says, voice airy and soft as he turns his head to the side and into his shoulder like he’s trying to hide.

“Mmm, starting to feel good now baby?” You ask, flicking your tongue while your fingers start to sink in easily.

“Yeah, ‘s good…” He mumbles.

Once you’re sure that there’s no pain at all for Jeongguk, you start to crook your fingers inside of him on every thrust in trying to find that secret spot of his. Jeongguk sounds lovely while you’re searching, but the way he sounds when you finally hit it is like nothing you’ve heard from him before. It’s like he gets punched in the gut and looses his breath, a moan getting caught in his throat for a moment before he exhales a high pitched whine. You didn’t get to see it, too focused, but you know his eyes rolled back.

“There,” he breathes.

You moan as you rest your head against his thigh, focusing on your attention on your fingers and hitting that spot every time you move them inside of him. Each time you hit it sweet moans are punched out, or quiet affirmations are whispered. “Yes, please, more…”.

He has that look of pleasure on his face, the scrunched eyebrows, the parted mouth. He’s fidgety, and fussy like he just wants more but doesn’t know how to get it. He huffs, annoyed, before he starts to push back on your fingers.

“God… you’re so desperate for it,” You whisper completely captivated by how much pleasure Jeongguk looks like he’s in.

He doesn’t acknowledge you. Until you start to put a constant pressure on his prostate, rubbing.

“Oh fuck- I-“ He looks down to where your fingers are like he can’t believe the way they are making him feel before he throws his head back and let’s out a deep groan.

He lets you make him feel good, let’s the pleasure build up in his body until you start to feel him tense. His whines start to come out more frequently, almost constant moans filling the air. So noisy. His legs open more and you see how his toes curl in the sheets.

“Oh my god I think I’m gonna cum,” It’s said breathlessly, almost confused. Like he didn’t think that he would actually be able to cum just from your fingers inside of him, hands still at his sides fisted in the sheets.

“Yeah baby?” You ask, voice airy.

He nods, tongue poking out of his mouth like he’s concentrating.

Your arm hurts, but you keep thrusting and rubbing over that spot inside of him. His muscles are strained, and next to your body, you can see his legs start to tremble. His breathing is fast and short. His cock is fat and swollen laying in a puddle of precum, it looks like it hurts with how red it is. You take you other hand and start to rub on his perineum, stimulating him on the outside as well as the inside and that’s when he loses it.

He let’s out a choked cry before his body jerks up, curling in on itself. “Oh fuck I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming-“

You don’t let up, an awestruck smiling forming on your face as you watch Jeongguk fall apart on your fingers. He’s so tight around them, it’s like his body is begging you not to stop, keeping you in place. He feels like every hair on his body is standing on end and like his skin is overly receptive and sensitive to every little thing. Wave after wave of ecstasy is flowing over him. His whole body trembles, yet his cock doesn’t jerk like with his other orgasm. This time it just pulses flat on his stomach, cum leaking out of the tip adding to the mess that was already there. With every pulse of his cock, Jeongguk’s body curls more, back raise off the bed, abs flexed due to the strain on his core. The look on his face is one of indescribable pleasure. It’s obscene. After the final pulse of his cock, he falls back, absolutely spent.

Your fingers slowly come to a stop, and you carefully remove them from him and wipe them on the bed before you crawl over his thigh and flop down by his side. You peck his cheek, staying quiet this time, not wanting to overwhelm him. He’s still has tremors running through his body when he turns his head to look at you. His chest is heaving and his eyes are droopy, but there’s a sleepy smile on his lips. He curls onto his side so you guys are facing each other.

The silence is thick and heavy but not in a suffocating way. More so in a comforting way. The atmosphere feels like you both are wrapped in a weighted blanket, just relishing in the warm afterglow of what you did together.

You wiggle closer, hook a thigh over his hip. “How was it? Did you like it?” You don’t know why but you sound shy, kinda nervous.

He simply nods, a soft smile on his face as he brushes some hair behind your ear, hand coming to rest on your cheek for just a few seconds before it’s sliding down your arm, down your hip, playing with lacy top of your panties. He bumps noses with you, breathing in your exhales before he closes his eyes and fits his lips between yours. His hand slips into your panties.

You open easily for him, angling yourself mostly on your back so it’s easier for him to reach where you want him most. He sighs into your mouth when he feels how wet you are. He dips between your lips and you gasp, hand going down to grip at his wrist willing him not to tease, to not move his hand away.

“Don’t worry, I just wanna make you feel good baby.” He coos in your ear as his middle finger starts to rub slowly over your clit.

You let out soft whimpers at the slow pace that makes the fire in your belly curl and steadily grow.

“Jeongguk, I’m already close…” You warn.

“Mmm, that’s it baby. Want you to cum for me, like I came for you.” His finger speeds up some. “Fuck, you made me cum so hard y/n. Made me crazy. You always do.” He moans gently into your ear.

You nod, and your legs begin to tremble. “Don’t stop,” You beg, meaning both his fingers and his words.

“You wanna know what it felt like? You wanna know what you did to me?” He presses a touch harder, and nips are your cheek.

You nod again, subtly rocking your hips into his touch.

“You made me cum untouched y/n. Do you know how good you had to fuck me in order for that to happen? God, it was so intense, and I was just leaking so much the whole time. You did that to me baby, you made me feel that good. Fuck, I wanna make you feel that good too, please cum for me y/n. I know you’re close, I know your body just as well as you know mine.” He sounds desperate, just yearning to get you there. “I can tell by the way your legs are shaking, and the way you can’t stop whining my name. Sound so pretty baby, just for me. Your hand on my wrist is gripping so hard, like you can’t take what my fingers are doing to you. But you’re gonna take it and give me what I want right? Just like I gave you what you wanted, hmm?”

“Fuck, Jeongguk I’m cumming,” You cry, his words and his fingers making you shake and finally get the release that you’ve been putting off the whole night. Your thighs close over his hand but Jeongguk doesn’t let up, not until you’re cumming for the second time in a span of minutes.

“Please- I can’t-“ You squirm, and wiggle, until his fingers slow and finally slip form your panties. You sigh in bliss, body twitching as the last bits of your climax leave your body.

You turn back to your side and snuggle all the way against Jeongguk’s body, legs intertwining. Jeongguk runs his nails over your back, making little goosebumps sprout over your body. There’s a peaceful quiet coming over you, both tired from the events of the night. Jeongguk breaks it.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” It’s a timid statement, but you can hear how much he means it.

You kiss softly over his heartbeat. “I always will.”

“Just please don’t ever ask to peg me.”

You simply hum. “Goodnight baby.”

------------------------

i hope you liked it!! i’m thinking of writing a smutty drabble of when oc and jk watch the porn together 🤨 let me know if you would want to read that or anymore of this universe! comments, notes, and feedback are YEARNED for. my ask is also open if you want to request, share thoughts, or just talk

part 3 here!

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bettsfic · 2 years

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in celebration of the hayden christensen renaissance i’m watching a movie called virgin territory (recommended to me by @volturialice) and. i simply can’t believe it’s a real thing that exists. it’s a kinkmeme prompt in early 00s movie form. first of all, the amazon prime description begins with “hayden christensen of JUMPER stars as a charming scoundrel...” right. jumper. definitely his most famous movie. mhm.

the premise is thus: lorenzo (hayden) is on the run from the law for reasons i wasn't paying attention to and hides out as a gardener in a convent where all the nuns fuck him. then the girl he's in love with goes into hiding at the same convent.

it received a 1.9 on letterboxd and a 23% on rotten tomatoes. here we gooooo

they manage to get around hayden’s inability to do an accent by making him pretend to be mute

so he has almost no lines, he’s just the center of a number of montages where he does hard labor and drenches himself in water

oh, and there are horse stunts

two nuns make out with his bare stomach while he’s unconscious

shortly after, those same two nuns fuck him in a bathtub

there is an erotic cow milking scene

tits and asses. tits and asses.

the soundtrack is full of vaguely electronica early 00s kasabian-esque knockoffs (if you don’t know who kasabian is, keep it that way)

when i say this is softcore porn, it is not in any way hyperbole

two other nuns fuck lorenzo and then two more nuns get jealous and demand he fuck them also

tim roth is the bad guy, a casting that probably took up most of the budget

there are like 30 main characters and i have less than zero idea what’s going on

two women assess the penises of a dozen men, again for reasons i cannot discern

several of the men dogpile the man with the smallest penis

a lady gives a guy a handjob in the woods but he comes too fast and she gets angry?? i don’t understand how any of this is relevant to what i think might be the plot

uh oh, lorenzo’s love interest exposes him for being a fraud and the head nun kicks him out of the convent

oh no hayden has lines again

more tits and asses

the head nun has been referred to as having “unparalleled lust and randiness”

the love interest has left the convent and invited lorenzo to be her bodyguard

the love confession is happening over what sounds like a franz ferdinand or arcade fire song, as if this movie isn’t 2007 enough

tim roth pushes lorenzo into a fountain. he is wet again for the 1000th time this movie

he is now wet and in a dungeon

tim roth keeps wiggling around like a little kid who needs to pee and holding his sword like a cigarette

the love interest agrees to marry tim roth in exchange for letting lorenzo out of the dungeon!! ashamed to say i am really getting into this

the other three dozen plotlines have disappeared

i guess without them this movie would just be 2 hours of hayden fucking nuns so the director had to put in some filler, a move i do not agree with

lorenzo has been let out of the dungeon. he is now wet *and* filthy

i was wrong, shazam has informed me the song i thought was by franz ferdinand is actually “don’t you” by micah p. hinson but it sounds like every single indie rock song released between 2005-2009

the love interest has paid off a fake priest to delay the wedding while she tries to figure out a solution. A+ shakespeare move

lorenzo punches two guys at once and when he says “that hurt” he remembers to un-rhotic his Rs for the first time the entire film

he has stolen a sword and intends to interrupt the wedding!!

the fake priest is filibustering the wedding by interrogating tim roth on his bathing habits

btw the fake priest has the greasy side swoop hairstyle that plagued my adolescence and which has triggered my fight or flight response

a russian guy who is not lorenzo interrupts the wedding?? with a gun????

poor hayden has had to sprint an entire fucking marathon in this movie

lorenzo has arrived and despite having a sword he is kickboxing his way into this wedding

he stops the russian guy from killing tim roth and flips a coin to determine who does get to kill him

final sword fight. tim roth says “aww shit” and falls into a well

lorenzo gets the girl. the russian with the gun gets a different girl. the guy who came too fast in the woods gets his girl.

the fake priest throws rose petals over all 4 main couples who are making out around a fountain

the guy with the tiny penis is also there and making out with somebody

“TENDER” BY BLUR IS THE END CREDITS SONG that’s where their stunt budget went i guess

somehow i forgot that this was based on the decameron?? how???

hayden gets fourth billing even though he carried this entire circus act. there is no justice in this world

okay final thoughts: i didn’t hate it even a little bit?? people who gave it a bad review are fucking snobs, this was a DELIGHT. 100/10 recommend, just don’t watch it with your parents.

#virgin territory

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cemeterything · 3 years

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Yeah I know what you feel I see stories popping up every so often about people saying horrible things in twitch streamers chat and they do nothing to stop it and I’m like I’d have a nervous breakdown if there was so much racism in my chat and then at the same time I see people that Stan creators and I’m like shit even if the creator doesn’t turn out to be horrible it’s still like almost a cult but the creator didn’t even want to make one. No need to answer this ask just wanted you to know others have a similar opinion on the situation

yeah. the issue with addressing parasocial relationships

is that they're extremely complicated to discuss, because everyone involved in them past the point where boundaries get blurred and ignored is in some way a victim because they're not healthy for anyone. and anything you do as a content creator feeds into them. and no matter what you say or do some people will continue doing things you've said you're uncomfortable with because it doesn't match up with the version of you they've formed a relationship with in their heads. or to get a reaction out of you because the possibility of receiving your attention, no matter how realistic, is a major part of what fuels a parasocial relationship. (which is not me saying content creators shouldn't address things like racism and other forms of bigotry in their fanbases, but there's only so much they can do and even if they try to block or ban as many people as possible to discourage them there's always some people who'll slip past because there's just too much for one person or even a team of mods to keep up with 24/7).

and at the same time content creators do use these relationships to make money through fan meetups, selling merch, random interactions online, etc. which in a way can't be helped because that's how they make their careers but does arguably exploit people who've fallen off the parasocial deep end and need help and support getting out of that mindset. but also any creator with a platform cannot bear responsibility for or offer support to every single person who claims to be a fan of them and in fact could cause more harm than good by feeding into that desire for attention.

parasocial relationships can drive people to do increasingly desperate and unreasonable things in pursuit of that (entirely human, but often unreasonable and unhealthy in parasocial relationships) need to receive validation, which is unfortunately just the nature of online spaces to develop because we all post and interact with each other at least partly to receive the validation of other people liking our content and, by extension, especially in parasocial relationships, us.

i'm speaking from experience. i used to be addicted to receiving validation online (and i am a former addict, so i don't make that comparison without understanding the implications) because there is a high that comes with seeing the numbers of likes and shares and positive comments on your content go up and it is possible to get addicted to that rush. i did, and it took me the better part of a year after realizing how negatively it was affecting my life and therapy - no, i'm not kidding - to start to make progress and no longer be obsessed with pleasing strangers online who know very little about me and don't really care about me even if they think they do (and this is not in any way an attack on my followers, i'm sure many of you are good, kind, helpful people, but at the same time the concept of me that exists in your minds and you care about is a parasocial one.)

this is even harder if you're a content creator who has a career online. i don't make any money from posting on tumblr. so it doesn't matter if i produce less content or don't consistently interact with the people who follow me for that content. but if you do, it's not easy to step away from that and try to recover from and distance yourself from parasocial relationships and set boundaries when your whole career relies partly on them. even if it gets to a point where, like me, they're harming your wellbeing. it took me months of obsessively checking my social media and follower count and having panic attacks when i couldn't or my activity dropped, struggling to sleep and having anxiety attacks because i couldn't think of enough fun new content to share, struggling in classes and at work because my attention was elsewhere, and feeling despair to the point of having depressive episodes brought on by people saying hurtful things about me or criticizing me about things that weren't my fault and i couldn't control, before i even considered that i needed to do something about the parasocial hell i'd dug myself into. and i don't make a single cent. if i did, it would have been a lot harder. maybe even impossible.

this is really just a ramble with no conclusion but it just frustrates me and makes me really sad that parasocial relationships can cause so much lasting harm to people, both content creators and their fans, and there's not really any solution except seeking therapy one day and hopefully being able to heal from the damage. although i do think talking more openly about and spreading awareness of parasocial relationships would also help people find support and think more carefully about how they interact with people and consume content online (without ruining the fun!).

#long post #parasocial relationships #it's a complicated issue bc like. there's really no one to blame #except capitalism and the development of selling your life #and hobbies to be consumed by strangers under that i guess #and dismantling that is a lot harder than deplatforming someone #like i wish we could but we can't just 'cancel' capitalism

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yeojaa · 3 years

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( NEVER LET YOU GO. )

You do things without thought, making impulse decisions that’d make Freud proud. Sometimes they pay off, sometimes they don’t.

(or: Jeon Jungkook’s just as impulsive as you.)

pairing. tattoo artist!jjk x f!reader.

genre + rating. slice of life fluff, light smut. explicit (but only at the end).

tags / warnings. mentions of heavily tattooed!JK, casual drinking, tender lovemakin’, JK with the bad jokes, honestly just him being funny and chill like that one guy you never get over...

wc. 7.6k.

beta reader(s). @hobi-gif, @papillonsgf, and @yeoldontknow 💛 ty for always indulging me and most importantly, supporting me when i begin to spiral. 🤠

author note. i got this idea into my head one evening in the shower and now... it is this. it’s not your usual bad boy tattoooist!JK fic but i hope you enjoy regardless. as always, feedback means a lot!

You and forethought aren’t close friends. You really aren’t even distant cousins, or part of the same family tree. You consider it a stranger, wave loftily as it passes you by, squinting like you can’t properly make out what it is. Careful consideration? Thoughtful patience? None of that exists for you. At least, not when you really, really want something.

It’s what has you here now, bumbling your way into the tattoo shop like a newborn baby bird.

You wonder how it must look, whether the shop assistant is used to this. Random girl shows up on a Sunday afternoon looking like a fish out of water, eager yet afraid. By how she greets you - with a curious stare and not quite a smile - you’re sure she is.

“Do you take walk-ins?”

You’d meant to make an appointment. Had sat for hours on the shop’s Instagram page, combing through the residents’ portfolios, trying to decide who to reach out to. When you’d finally decided, you’d realised books were a thing and most of them were closed. (Just your luck.)

Still, it never hurt to try, right?

“Everyone’s fully booked.” The girl sounds bored, apathetic yet genial. (You don’t blame her.) By the way her stare swings over you, it feels like a dismissal. You’re ready to admit defeat - head half-bowed, words draped over your tongue. “But our apprentice might be able to squeeze you in.”

An apprentice? Well— that’s not exactly what you’d been hoping for, but this shop is reputable. Well-known. Considered one of the best in the city. Surely their apprentice would be fine. Just less seasoned, not as experienced.

You all but snap your neck nodding along, gratitude tumbling out in the form of awkward laughter. “That’d be great!”

The girl passes you off with a nod of her head, gesturing down the hall. “Last room on the left. His name’s Jungkook. His schedule says he’s all clear, but maybe knock before you go in.” It’s not the sunniest smile you’ve ever received, but the small thing she offers helps with the nerves. Stills them beneath your skin as you do as you’re told.

“Jungkook?” There’s not really anywhere to knock, every wall neatly frosted glass and no doors in sight. (You had passed a few folding screens but otherwise, it’s open concept, each room offering a glimpse into the artist who works inside.) It feels too disruptive to tap your knuckles on one glass pane, lest it interrupt someone else.

(His studio is minimally decorated but inviting: one big cabinet; two of those typical IKEA shelves in the 4x4 grid that every new homeowner and their mother have; and a shop table, upon which a black backpack sits. Various plants dress the room - both hanging from the ceiling and along the window - and Polaroids string over walls, held aloft by twine. A Roomba sits by itself in a corner and the tattoo bed dominates most of the space, positioned closer to the dividing wall; one teeny tiny rolling chair sits beside it. There’s a bench on your left, with a pair of Birkenstocks tucked beneath. All in all, very homey. Reminiscent of your own apartment.)

Hidden behind the bed, crouched low to the ground beside the cabinet, is a head of dark hair that speaks, drawing your attention from studying the cozy space. “Oh?”

You’re not expecting the face that turns to you, all big doe eyes and the sweetest dimples.

For a moment, you forget what you’re here for. Why you’re standing in the empty door frame, staring down at the guy like you’ve spent your entire life secluded and have no idea how to speak.

The longer you’re quiet, the more his concern seems to grow, single brow disappearing into his inky fringe. It hangs in his vision at certain angles, shields the brightness of his stare with each turn of his chin. “Are you okay?” He’s even risen - stopped what he was doing - so he can see you more clearly, without any obstruction in the way. Good for him, but worse for you.

He’s so cute. Were you prepared to look like an uncertain idiot in front of this… angel?

“Y-yeah.” You manage after what feels like forever, sweeping your nerves under the rug that sits on the floor, separates the sole of his sneakers from hard concrete. “Um— I was told you might have some time? For, uh, a walk-in?”

(Why’re you stuttering? You’re never shy. Or rather, you’re not this nervous mess. People have always called you an extrovert, outgoing as hell, a social butterfly.)

(You aren’t those things but you appreciate the sentiment nonetheless.)

“Oh!” Realisation dawns across his features, throws his kind smile into greater relief, and you have to actively tell yourself not to stare, tearing your gaze away to focus on the wall of stencils past his shoulder. He moves into motion then, stepping around the bed to meet you still rooted in the doorway. “Yeah, I’ve got time. Come in.” Up close like this - there’s only maybe two feet between you - you can make out the little scar on his cheek; the tiny beauty mark below his bottom lip; each individual lash that frames his Bambi eyes and flutters when he blinks. “I probably can’t draw you anything new right now but I’ve got some flash, if you’re interested?”

Even if you weren’t interested, you don’t think you’d say no. You were always a sucker for a cute boy and this Jungkook? He was that. In spades.

“Sure.”

“Are you looking for anything in particular?” He’s retreating back into the room, moving to grab his iPad off the far table. It’s balanced on his arm when he swivels to you, prominent front teeth on full display. “I’ve got a pretty big selection.”

When he drops onto the bench - a wayward vine above his head tickling his cheek - he gestures to the spot beside him. This time, you don’t stare for a stupid amount of time, instead taking up the seat without hesitation.

“So—” He’s swiping through the photo library with his Apple Pen. You’re sure there are pretty sketches on the screen - you just can’t focus on them, too preoccupied by the artwork that crawls across his hand and into the sleeve of his oversized, well-worn shirt. It’s an intricate chrysanthemum, impossibly well-shaded with bold colours that demand attention and stand out over his fair complexion; it creeps halfway up the back of his hand to tickle over his knuckles. He notes your attention with a quiet chuckle, fingers wiggling. The ink moves, flows, ripples with the motion, before his hand relaxes, knuckles unravelling as he offers the limb to you and your curiosity. “Do you like it?”

“It’s incredible.” It really is. You’ve never seen anything like it, as if a painting has been done across his skin, laid in watercolour rather than tattoo ink. “Did it hurt?”

(You almost want to hit yourself for the stupid question. Of course it did. It’s a hand tattoo.)

Jungkook only laughs again, doesn’t hold it against you despite the verbal barrage you’re faced with internally. “Like crazy, but it was worth it. This was my first tattoo and all the rest have just sort of been—” He shrugs, fabric of his shirt bunching around his collar.

“A piece of cake?” You can only imagine.

“Exactly.”

You nod thoughtfully, as if that means anything to you. (It doesn’t. You’re bare as a baby’s bottom, blemish free save for the occasional hellish pimple and the scar you have from surgery on your hand when you broke parts of it in sixth grade.)

If he can tell you’re talking out of your ass, he says nothing, redirecting your attention back to the iPad propped on his lap. “Do any of these interest you?” He’s resumed scrolling, swiping carefully through pages of flash. There are assorted floral pieces (plum stems, lily stalks, fully bloomed mums) and various skeletons (what looks like a deer, a dragon, a wolf). They’re mostly blackwork with fine lines and heavy contrast, so wonderfully detailed you spend too much time studying one piece before he’s flipping to the next.

“That one.” It catches your eye more than the others have. Likely because it’s one of the few pieces in colour, soft hues spilling over neat lines. A pretty little cat with a braided collar, big golden bell centered beneath its head, unravelling petals sweeping around it.

“You like cats?”

You do. “She looks like mine.”

“It’s settled.” He beams then, rising so quickly you’re startled; you watch as he moves around the space with decisive steps, putting your plan into motion. A paper is pulled seemingly out of nowhere, laid on a wooden clipboard and offered with a blue ballpoint pen. “If you can fill all of this out, I can get the stencil ready.”

Well, that was easy. Somehow, you’d thought it’d be more complicated, a ton of back and forth and yes and no. You can’t deny you’re nervous, staring down at the consent form.

(It doesn’t mean you read it any more than you normally would, though. You gloss over all the points, making note of what you’re agreeing to without really considering any of it. You’ve wanted a tattoo for most of your life. There’s really no going back now.)

(You just hope it turns out like you want - that you’re not just being blindsided by a sudden superficial crush and a lack of critical thought.)

“I think I’m done,” you mumble, slashing the date into the paper with gusto.

“Do you have your ID?” You’ve got it ready for him when he returns to take both it and the form. “I’m just going to make copies and then we can discuss more.”

He’s gone with that same smile, disappearing back the way you’d come.

Alone, the nerves set in. You’re actually doing this. Getting a tattoo. Putting something permanent on your body. It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once, shaking your hands in your lap. Maybe you should’ve eaten more before you’d come. (You’d woken up late - had only shoved two pieces of raisin pinwheel bread into your mouth before you’d made up your mind about this.)

(But had you really made up your mind? Was this going to be it? It feels mostly like yes, though the repetitive thud of your toe against concrete seems to indicate otherwise. It’s as if you’re tapping out something in morse, telling yourself—)

“Okay!” Jungkook’s back before you know it, driver’s license returned to you along with an unsealed envelope. You eye it curiously. “A copy of your form and an aftercare sheet.”

He’s really thought of everything. Or the shop has. Either way, you appreciate that when you’re not so sure, caught somewhere between giddily excited and vaguely worried, as if someone’s pulled a weight off your shoulders, taken on some of the burden of this spontaneous choice.

“So, where do you want it?” It’s like he has a one track mind, utterly focused on the task at hand. (Probably a good thing, given you’re about to voluntarily let him needle your poor skin.)

You hadn’t thought about that. You’d always liked the idea of a back of the arm tattoo, positioned somewhere along your tricep so it could be seen while turned away. “My arm?”

“Upper? Forearm?” There’s not an ounce of annoyance or exasperation or anything else negative. He’s just genuinely curious, peering over his shoulder at you.

“Tricep area, I think? Would that look good?”

“If you like it, it will.” Then he grins - beams so bright you half expect the sun to come zooming out of his mouth - and laughs, a funny little cackle that makes you do the same. “I’m kidding. That was cheesy. But I’m sure it’ll look fine. We can try laying it down first, so you get an idea?”

“That sounds good.” A lot better than endless years of regret for poor placement.

“You’ll, uh— need to take your shirt off though.”

It’s then you realise your mistake: wearing a turtleneck. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

A beat of silence passes, then another, and he smiles so kindly you wonder what your expression must look like. Sour, like you’d sucked fresh lemon? Awkward, as if you’d never worn anything less than double layers before (a proud Never Nude)?

“If you’re uncomfortable, we can reschedule. Or I can put a divider up so you don’t have to worry about being seen from outside. Whatever you’d prefer.”

The longer you stay quiet - a seemingly common occurrence today - the closer his brows furrow, preparations coming to a standstill. You can tell he’s not trying to rush you, politely waiting for an answer with transfer paper in one hand and scissors in the other.

(If only he could peek into your brain, see the whole reason you’re hesitating is because you can’t quite remember which bra you’re wearing, whether it’s the slinky black one that offers absolutely zero support or the lacy blue one with the cute detailing and practically see-through cups.)

(Did it really matter either way? He was probably desensitized.)

“It’s fine.” You find the confidence somehow, nodding firmly. Jungkook’s still studying you carefully, though. Waiting as you strip your purse off your shoulder and reach for the hem of your sweater. It feels funny in your fingers, more like steel wool than sheep’s.

One breath. Two.

You fold your turtleneck neatly, laying it beside your bag and turning back to face him. “All right. Let’s do this.”

“So, which arm?” He’s close now - crossed to you in two strides of his long legs - and holds up the stencil.

Your right rises, fingers wiggling as if to say hello.

He lays the design down, pats it into place with deft fingers. You don’t realise the breath you’re holding until he pulls the sticky paper away, leaving neat line work in its wake.

“Oh.” It slips out of its own accord, almost a whisper as you stare at the design in the mirror. “It’s so pretty.”

There’s pride in his eyes as he stares with you, bounces his gaze between it and your face. “Thanks.” He lets you linger, peering thoughtfully at your reflection before speaking, casually hopeful. “What do you think?”

“This is it. Right here.”

Maybe he’d fist pump, if he were any less cool. As it stands, he simply nods, cheeks round like fresh baked bread, nose scrunched with glee.

“All right. We’ll shave you down and get started. You like the colours, right?” Once again, he’s buzzing around the room, gathering up all his materials and snapping black gloves on once everything is laid out upon his cart. It’s heavily stickered, covered in video game vinyls and anime mattes. (You recognise a handful of them, make a note to ask him where he got them from.) He pats the tissue papered bed top when you make no movement toward him. “Hop on up. Face down, if that’s okay.”

You do as he says, climbing atop with minimal grace. It takes you a bit of adjusting to get comfortable, folding your left arm under your head and allowing your right to simply dangle, uncertain of where it should be.

“You’re sparkly.”

“What?” You’d misheard that, right?

“Your skin. You’re sparkling.” He sounds a little in awe, surprised as wetness spills across your arm, the edge of a razor following closely thereafter.

“Oh.” Heat creeps over your cheeks, slinks all the way up into your roots and has you chuckling awkwardly. “It’s my soap.”

“Sparkle soap?” Whether he’s just making conversation or genuinely curious, you’re not sure. He does seem delighted by the fact, though, as if he’s never seen a girl covered in glitter before. (Which, fair.)

“It’s this specialty holiday soap. It has pigment in it.”

“That’s cool.” He’s laying the stencil down again, smoothing it over your now-hairless arm. “It smells nice.”

Obviously, you agree. It’s honey and citrus, brightly fragrant but not overpowering, lingering on your clothes like the subtle golden glitter does. Still, you flush, heat crossing from a casual day under the sun to burning-on-the-stove hot. “Thanks.”

“Was that weird? I hope not.”

“No, you’re fine.”

He hums a tiny noise, something that sounds like understanding and appreciation all at once.

Then the buzzing starts - a steady, inescapable brrrrrrrrr - and he’s gripping your arm, steady yet gentle. “Ready?”

Honestly, you’re not sure. Hearing the noise makes it seem scary, has your entire body tensing up like Pavlov’s dog. Your honesty can’t be helped, a nervous giggle chased off your tongue. “I think so.”

“I think so too.”

By the time you’re done - a good almost five hours later, your arm stinging so bad you wonder why you’d ever sat down in the first place - you’d fallen asleep twice, started drooling on your other arm once, and really, really have to pee.

“All right—”“ The incessant buzzing stops. Liquid spills where the pain centres, followed by rougher paper towel. “You are finished.”

(You might be imagining it, but he sounds about as relieved as you. Maybe because you’d been sitting for hours on hours, turning down his offer for a break because you just wanted to get it done and therefore forcing him to do the same.)

“Can I see?” You don’t want to leap to your feet - feel a bit too lightheaded for that - but you’re bouncing with excitement, the thrumming in your arm intensified when you shift to catch a better look at Jungkook’s face.

“Yeah, go ahead. Just be careful - you might be a bit—”

He’s right. You nearly topple over the moment you stand, none-too-gently rolling off the edge of the bed and barely landing safely on your feet. It’s only his close proximity that prevents you from falling to your knees, one degloved hand darting out to steady you.

“Careful!” It’s politely reproachful, coloured soft with worry.

“Sorry, sorry.” You seize the edge of the bed, gripping tight as you wait for everything to settle, the lightheadedness to recede. Everything straightens out quickly enough. “Got up too quickly.”

“Do you need a snack?” He’s already up, moving faster than you, rummaging through the cabinet against the far wall. “I’ve got seaweed and Choco Boys and shrimp chips and—”

You can’t help but laugh, hobbling to the mirror to inspect your new piece of art. “I’m fine.” That, and you’re too occupied with the ink that now sits embedded beneath your skin, a flurry of lovely colour and impressive line work.

“Choco Boys it is then.” The familiar yellow package is thrust toward you, a pack of his own already ripped open. Mushroom-shaped treats are tossed into his open mouth, lips curling around chocolate and his next words, “it’ll help with your sugar levels.”

A thank you comes, fingers curling around the snacks, but you’re still in deep, so focused on the lovely hue that bleeds over your skin, marks up previously unblemished flesh and holds your attention. It’s better than you could’ve possibly imagined, a piece of artwork forever yours. It makes you giddy as you stare at it - almost reach for it, but stop when you catch the alarmed widening of Jungkook’s eyes.

“You like?”

“I love.” You’d stare at it for hours, if you could. Likely will, once you get home, sitting in front of the mirror like a zombie. “Thank you so, so much.”

The brunet beams as he polishes off the last of his Choco Boys, tossing his dark hair back with a flick of his head. Triumph rolls off him in palpable waves, sitting pretty in the lines by his eyes, the scrunching around his nose. Seeing how it blooms in his stare is like a straight endorphin shot, as if you’ve done more than just be the canvas he’s laid all his hard work into. “It was a pleasure.”

It’s a whole month later - enough time for the piece to heal - before you decide you want another one. It’s not as spontaneous as the first time, instead led with an Instagram direct message to @jeonink. (You half expect him not to answer; you’re utterly delighted when he responds not five minutes later.)

Maybe it’s fate or maybe it’s luck that has him with availability the same day you reach out, bringing you back to the studio three hours after you’ve messaged him.

He’s just as cute as before, black baseball cap pulled low over his ears, silver-lined ears twinkling beneath the shop lights.

“So, what’re you thinking?”

Truthfully, you hadn’t done much thinking. Just like before, you’d decided you wanted a tattoo and, well, the rest had been history. You figured you’d let him have free reign, given how happy you were with your first piece. “A sleeve?”

That surprises him. His whole face lights up, eyes wide, mouth rounding curiously. “Like, a full sleeve?” It’s not necessarily a no - more of an are you sure? he hides between the syllables.

“I think so.”

He nods slowly, knowingly, arms folded over his chest, expression suddenly unreadable. “You caught the itch.”

Your own features twist, brows shooting high. “The what?”

“The tattoo itch,” he clarifies with a laugh, the sound sweeping your concern away like the sea. “People say once you get one, you get addicted to the feeling.” He’s extending both arms to you now, hands palm up. For a moment, you’re note sure what he’s doing. (In actuality, you’re distracted by the fact that he’s in a tee, muscle cording his limbs, undulating as he turns his arms over.) “I got bit by it when I lived in Japan. It’s actually what got me into tattooing myself.”

You remember what he’d said last time - how he’d spent a handful of years overseas, working in restaurants after having followed his last partner there. He’d shared lots about his life, giving you the Sparknotes version while you’d ground enamel to fine dust.

“I guess I have the itch then.”

“Guess you do.”

Your dream comes to life in four excruciating sessions. It’s some of the worst pain you’ve ever endured (you’re never going to get an elbow tattoo ever again) but you’d do it all again in a heartbeat, utterly in love with the mural that now lives on your skin. A peony caps your shoulder while one runs halfway up your bicep. Another takes up the entirety of your forearm. There’s a darling little bird and delicately inked koi. It’s breathtaking, greater than anything you could have dreamt up.

You’ve been staring at it for at least three minutes now, tracing over the freshly laid colour with a tender touch. You’re grateful for the SecondSkin, the clear bandage that wraps everything up and keeps it safe from your over eager hands.

“You did it.” Jungkook’s grinning at you, feet kicked up where he sits, his usual bag of Choco Boys balanced in his lap. “Big girl.”

From anyone else, it might sound condescending - might rub you the wrong way and have you glaring daggers. Instead, you take it in stride, beaming at him from your seat. He’s been there with you every step of the way, been there for every hour (seventeen over three months, to be exact) you’ve dedicated to finishing this beauty up. Tease you as he might, you know he really is proud of you.

“You mean we did it,” you return, giddy like a child.

“Ah, right.” The chocolate-covered snack he’s devouring goes crunch crunch crunch before he speaks, mouth still full, eyes crinkled. “I guess I did do all the work.”

“Hey! Screw you!” You’re glowering at him, middle finger raised in defiance.

(How curious that your relationship has grown like this, turned from tattoo artist and client to what feels like more. It probably makes sense, given the long hours you’ve spent together, the support he’s had to offer each time the pain has gotten this side of too much, chattering your teeth and dizzying your head. Solidarity in pain and all that.)

(You really had tapped out once, when he’d crept his gun into the ditch of your elbow. You’d asked him whether it’d hurt beforehand and he’d only laughed, shrugged off the question and continued with the careful shading to your inner arm. That in itself had hurt like a biiitch; you hadn’t thought it could get worse.)

(You’d been mistaken.)

“Am I wrong?” He drawls, full of laughter and that big dumb smile of his you’ve grown accustomed to. It eats up his cheeks and disappears his eyes, makes it hard to be mad at him when he looks so sweet.

“Yes, you are.” You’ve got absolutely nothing to back it up, but who cares. This is the sort of banter the two of you have developed, like two old friends forced to spend too much time together. (Not that you’d complain. You’ve loved hearing his stories, all the tales he regales you with whenever you’re in his chair.)

A snort is his answer, the full roll of his eyes over-exaggerated and playful. “You’re lucky we’re all finished or I’d sneak in an ugly fish somewhere on your arm.”

You think he’s kidding - know he takes too much pride in his work to do that.

Still, you stick your tongue out, hopping down from the bed with your freshly inked arm, hands clapping together in celebration. “You wouldn’t dare.” You’re confident, crossing to the bench to tug your flannel on, careful of the dull pain that throbs beneath the thin medical dressing.

“Wouldn’t I? I’m leaving anyway.”

You’re ready to call him out for it, insist he would never ruin the sanctity of his profession in such a way, when you realise the words he’s spoken, the casual tidbit he’s just dropped like it’s nothing.

“Leaving?”

(Is it you or do you sound disappointed? You can’t dwell on it for long, worried you’ll miss his explanation. Had he mentioned it previously? Slipped it in when you’d been delirious from pain? No, you would’ve remembered that. You swear you would’ve.)

“I’m moving to Tokyo.” How he’s so casual, you have absolutely no idea. You suppose it’s not a big deal for him - he’s not from here anyway. Home is back in Korea, the place he’d spent most of his life before moving to Japan and then here, just two years ago. (God, your memory is good. If only you’d retained knowledge like this when you were in school.) “My flight’s next weekend.”

Your face must be hilarious because Jungkook’s laughing, cackling like the evil villain in an anime.

“Gonna miss me?”

Would it be inappropriate to say yes? Because you will, you realise the moment he’s posed the question. You’ve grown to consider him a friend, someone who you send random memes to on Instagram (usually pertaining to #tattooartistproblems or one of your shared hobbies, like video games and finding the best noodle soup restaurant in the city).

You go for the safe bet, answering with a question of your own. “Are you gonna miss me?”

“I’ll miss your restaurant recs,” he answers, offering honesty to your reticence. “You can still send me funny photos though.”

You can’t help your laugh, the tiny quirk of your mouth into a smile. “I guess you’re right. Will you still be tattooing?” It’s an innocent enough question - you really do want to know. You can’t imagine going to anyone else, even if it means you’ll be shelling out an absurd amount of money for a plane ticket.

“Yep, new shop.” Something twinkles in his stare, has him giddy as he rises to his feet, tossing his empty packet of snacks into the trash bin. “Actually, where I got most of mine done.” You understand it then - that it’s a move of faith. He’s finally come full circle. You’re unbelievably happy for him, brimming with delight to mirror his pride.

But you’re still going to give him a little bit of a hard time because you have to. It wouldn’t feel right otherwise. “Whoa, big shot.”

“I am actually,” he sniffs, raking an ink-strewn hand through his hair. It’s longer now than it was when you met him, curling over the tops of his ears, hanging in his eyes at every turn. “You’ll be lucky if I remember you when I’m famous.”

“Famously lame, maybe,” you tease, slipping your bag over your shoulder. You busy yourself pulling your keys from the interior pocket, checking your phone as if you’re ready to go. It’s only when you’re standing in the hallway - you have no real intention of departing like this and he knows that, considering you haven’t paid yet - when you level him with a half-formed smirk. “But I guess I should take you for a drink?”

His hoodie is on before you know it, yanked over his head and tugged into place as he joins you. It’s become your regular routine - leaving together after your sessions, a perk of always booking the last slot he has available. (Not that you relied on that, but simply because your work schedule didn’t really allow for anything else.) “Obviously.”

Jeon Jungkook is a talented artist, a dedicated snacker, a lover of the colour black. You discover, sitting on the patio of the nearby bar, that he’s also really, really good at holding his liquor.

(Not that he’d ever indicated otherwise.)

“Do you think you’ll get anything else done?” He’s on his sixth pint, casually leaned back in his chair as he picks at the fries you’d ordered but that he seems perfectly happy to help himself to. (Payback for all the times he’s forced snacks on you maybe?) “Like, a face tattoo?”

You scoff at the question as if greatly offended. “You think I’d get a face tattoo?”

While a little glazed in the eyes, you can tell he’s altogether coherent, grinning across the table at you. “Hey, I don’t judge. You like making surprise decisions, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Okay, so he’s got you there. Used your own impulsive history against you. “I would never.”

“If you change your mind, do I get first dibs?”

“Dibs on what? Tattooing me?”

He nods as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “Duh.”

You can only roll your eyes, tossing a wayward burnt fry end at him. “Yes, Kook, you get first dibs on ruining my face.”

His expression twists, mouth shaping around words he’s keeping caged behind his teeth. There’s something he isn’t saying, a comeback he’s chosen to lock up. You wonder what it is.

“Hey - nothing wrong with face tattoos.”

“Really?” You’re leaning forward, a clear challenge written across your face. “Then why don’t you have one?” He has a million others as it is: a hand, nearly the entirety of both arms, his chest, his shoulders, one of his legs. (You haven’t seen them all in person but you have seen them online, memorialised on his Instagram feed.)

“And hide all this?” One inked hand is gesturing toward his own face, gesticulating wildly as if that’ll drive his point further home. “I would never.”

“That’s what I said!”

It doesn’t matter to him, not when he’s fully sober and most certainly not now, when he’s slightly buzzed, eyes glossier than usual. “But I’m cuter. It’d be a shame if it were me. You…” The way he trails off is suggestive, indicative of something mocking and mean. (Except it’s never cruel - far too friendly and soft to ever hurt your feelings.) “—not so much.”

Another fry hits him right between the eyes and then another disappears into the hood of his sweater, lost to the black fabric that bunches up around his neck and hides the flush he’s been battling since you two got to the bar an hour ago.

“Don’t be rude!”

He beams at you then, so unnecessarily endearing you can only throw one more piece at him.

“I’m kidding.” You knew that already but pretend to ignore the pseudo-apology, choosing instead to polish off the last of your now-cold fries. A bad choice, you realise when he continues, surprising you with the words that come out of his liquor-laden mouth so much so that you almost choke. “You’re actually pretty cute.”

(So what if you’ve sort of maybe been waiting to hear them? Wondering if the tiny crush you’d developed was in some way reciprocated?)

(Not that this meant it was. Only that you perhaps weren’t alone in thinking he was the most lovable - and somehow simultaneously hot - person you’d ever met. It’s almost rewarding to know the long hours together hadn’t left him unscathed.)

“You all good?” The look on his face is worse than that smile he usually offers, instead a devilish smirk that makes him look like Satan himself.

Were you? You’re not sure.

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Really? You can’t?” You’re not sure what that means, whether you’re simply reading too far into it. But then he’s dragging his bottom lip through his teeth, head cocked curiously. It’s a bait, you realise—and one you’ll gladly take.

“Should I have expected it?”

Shoulders hike, rising up around his ears. “I thought I made it sort of obvious.”

Had he? Thinking back on it, you can’t really recall. Of course, he’d always been friendly, indulging you in your pursuit of body art, sketching up the loveliest things you’d never even think to dream of; accepting your distracting Instagram messages without complaint, always tossing you a like or some sort of acknowledgement no matter what you’d send (and you’d send some random, random stuff). Chatting with him daily had just become the norm, conversation flowing freely whenever you’d pop in for your next session.

But that was just because he was a nice guy - or so you’d thought. You realise now how wrong you’d been, too occupied with your own crush to notice his (if it could be called that).

“You like me,” you hum, surprisingly nonchalant despite the little pitter patter in your chest, the flutter of your heart within your ribcage.

“I think you’re cute,” he retorts, though there’s no real weight to his rebuff. The two statements are really one and the same and you’re giddy with the knowledge, absolutely tickled pink.

Except for the fact that he’s leaving, fully prepared to start a new life in another city in just one week. The irony isn’t lost on you, like fate’s laughing even as she offers you this little crumb. (You feel like Oliver Twist, frankly.)

“Same difference.”

He huffs - you’re reminded of how adorable he is when he does that - and downs the lukewarm remainder of his beer. “I take it back.”

“No, you don’t.” Where the confidence comes from, who knows. You grip it tight with both hands though, hold it snugly as you level him with a stare that has his own unwavering. It’s almost as if you’re caught in a staring match, a battle of unspoken wits.

It drags on longer than it should, just the two of you locked to each other with nowhere to go.

Then he does the last thing you expect: shoves his chair aside and leans across the table, stealing a kiss and returning to his seat, all in the span of time it takes you to blink.

(His lips are so soft. A little chapped, a tiny bit dry, but soft - deceptively delicate. Bitter, touched with sea salt and something else distinctly him. French fries and beer and his Chapstick.)

(For the briefest moment, you wonder whether you’d just imagined it - if your imagination had truly gotten the best of you and you’ve absolutely lost your mind.)

“You just kissed me.” It seems like you’ve found your new favourite hobby of just repeating things, giving live play-by-plays like an awkward narrator in a romcom.

“Yeah, so?”

“You’re leaving.” Speaking the words into existence feels bad; you see the way his eyes tighten, the subtle sobering of his expression even while he tries to keep his cool.

“I am.” At least he’s realistic. It saves you from any uncertainty, keeping the what-ifs at bay.

You suppose it means you have nothing to lose.

“Do it again.”

And Jungkook does - over and over, sinking the taste of him almost as deeply as ink, offering a piece of himself you want to keep for just as long.

It takes you longer to add to your collection of art, nearly four whole years before you decide what you want next. (It’s a back piece this time - a full body suit from your shoulders down past your ass. Another cat, dressed in traditional Japanese clothing and surrounded by flowers. An ode to your first tattoo, to the one that had started it all.)

(You’re not sure you’re ready for the pain, though.)

“Lay down,” the artist instructs, back turned to you, busy preparing his materials. You’d stripped down while he was occupied, discarded all your clothes to the allocated basket and stood quietly in anticipation.

You do as he says, dropping atop the tattoo bed with a quiet oof. The stencil has already been laid, the entire outline ready to be inked into your skin. You can’t deny you’re more than a little nervous. It’s been years since you’d last gotten anything done, uninterested in finding a new artist since Jungkook had left.

(Which he had, exactly as he’d intended, gone on a 6 AM flight that you’d driven him to, teary-eyed and embarrassed. He’d laughed at you standing outside of the departure gate, his suitcase at his side, arms wrapped around your shoulders. You’d refused to show your face, burying it instead into the warmth of his neck, into the familiar scent of him that was going away for who knows how long.

“Stop being a baby,” he’d said, smothering you in kisses, the full weight of his laughter palpable through your close proximity. It'd rumbled out of his chest all the way into yours, finding a home behind your ribcage, right alongside where your heart fluttered, shaded blue and sad.

“Stop being mean,” you’d countered, petulant like a child.

It couldn’t be helped. You’d had only one week with him - one glorious, chaotic week filled with eating too much junk, rewatching your favourite animes, and generally making up for all the lost time you’d never even known there was. As amazing as it’d been, it still hadn’t prepared you for the goodbye.

That was your fault, though. You’d wrongly entertained the idea that maybe things would work out, that he’d change his mind or ask to take it - whatever you had, that is - with him, keep it going somehow. He hadn’t.)

“Do you have a preference where I start?” You’re unbothered, hair loosely knotted over your shoulder. Ready for the session to start - ready to feel the familiar sting again. (You’re proud of that. It might have taken you years and years but here you were, tackling something huge.)

“Nope.”

“Sounds good.”

The buzzing begins and pressure lands upon the small of your back, a gloved hand laid over the centre of your spine. You remind yourself to breathe in, out, focus on something other than the pain that fizzles over your skin and then ebbs into tenderness. Where he’s started - just above the fattiest part of your butt - isn’t too bad. Tolerable and yielding.

You can do this.

Your back aches in a different way than you’d anticipated, soreness buzzing beneath inflamed skin and making it uncomfortable to move around. It’s not any worse than your arm had been - the lines along your spine had felt comparable to that of your elbow - but it’s fresh, not dulled by years like your sleeve now was.

The artist is stripping his gloves off, your back neatly covered and the bed stripped of its original tissue paper. He’s leaned against the sink, onigiri held in his now-free hands, nibbling at the edge of the rice ball as you turn this way and that in the mirror. “You did good.”

You’re still undressed, admiring the linework from different angles, shimmying closer to your reflection to catch the lighter inking that makes up the undefined edges of the various florals. Something tells you that you should be shy - eager to redress after spending nearly five hours naked in the secluded studio - but you don’t care. Your back is quickly becoming a masterpiece, something that might as well be hung in the halls of the Louvre. You’re in love with it.

“Thanks.”

You mean thank you for his compliment but also for all his hard work, the long hours he’s put into bringing this beauty to life. It means so much - like progressing to the next level.

Which, you suppose it is. This is a fresh start for you. A new beginning in a new city.

“Proud of you,” he hums, suddenly close, broad palms searing heat over your hips. He’s careful to avoid the edge of the bandage that wraps your back and holds you delicately, like fine china or the most precious jewel in the world, lips sweet against your temple.

You meet his eyes in the mirror - the same sweet doe-eyed stare from five years ago. A little darker now, aged by the hand of time but endlessly kind, shining beneath the overhead lights.

“Proud of you,” you chirp, identical smiles spreading over your faces.

Jungkook’s having none of it though, bratty as usual. “Proud of us.”

You suppose you can settle for that. You really are proud of the two of you - for how far you’ve made it and all the obstacles you’ve overcome. From the first few weeks of sadness, all the melancholy that’d set in when he’d left, to exactly one month after, when he’d called you in the middle of the night, drunk and stumbling home.

(It’d been infuriating at the time - incoherent and foolish as he was - but it’d bloomed something between you, something neither of you could ignore.)

Four years of miserable long distance had become this: a love that's brought you back to his side, to a city you’re unfamiliar with but that he calls home; to a city that never sleeps, loud with pachinko machines and some of the best food you’ve ever had; to the place you’ve been missing every minute you were apart.

You’d never thought you would move for someone, uproot your entire life for a relationship, but he’d changed that. Made it worth it in ways you had never considered. Convinced you more and more with each trip you’d taken, two visits twice a year, for a measly two weeks at a time.

“Should we head home?” He means your physical home - the apartment the two of you had decided on in Roppongi, the one you haven’t seen yet, that he’s had to move into all by himself. It’s not quite as nice as the home in his arms.

You say yes anyway.

“I’m so talented.” The words come entirely too whole for your liking, loud somewhere above your head.

“Are you serious?” You’re levelling your boyfriend with the most incredulous look, whole face scrunched up, hands fisted into his dark sheets. It’s uncomfortable at this angle - kinking your neck as you look over your shoulder - but you really can’t believe he’s just said that. He’s knelt between your legs, knees spread wide around his own, his hand halfway up your back and tracking heat over your spine.

Somehow, he has the audacity to look surprised. “What?”

“You’re really patting yourself on the back right now?” Now, when he should be pounding you into oblivion, working that big fat cock of his through your fluttering walls, making you moan his name into his pillows like it’s his only job?

(It truthfully could be. You’d rank his skills in the bedroom on par with his skills in the studio.)

“Oh.” All at once, he’s the devil - sin personified. Or would be, if he didn’t somehow still look infuriatingly cute.

The gentle touch turns bruising, heel of his palm pressed hard into the tender notches of your spine. “You don’t like when I admire my own work?” Asked as he shifts behind you, length dragging out of your dripping cunt to gently tap against your aching clit. The head of it glides through your folds, mercilessly teasing but never slipping back in, never filling you whole like you need. (Because you really do need it. You haven’t seen him in six months, left to your own devices - literally.) It feels like heaven and hell, too good and not nearly enough all at once.

“Kook,” you snap. Try to, anyway, his name far too whiny and breathless to hold any real weight.

“I’m just admiring you, sweetheart.” He’s dragging the hand over your back, tracing all the lines he’s embedded into your skin. They make up his favourite piece, inked permanently into his favourite canvas. A testament to his hard work, his dedication, his love.

Any other time, you might not care. Here and now, after not having felt his touch in what feels like forever, you’re burning from the inside out, a million volts of electricity tripping your circuits. When you speak, it’s more a plea than a reprimand, uttered so sweetly you know he can’t deny you. “Admire me later.”

“I’ve missed you” is his only answer, punctuated by a fluid roll of his hips, the heavy press of his cock back into your dripping cunt. “I’ve missed this,” he breathes out, sinking all the way in, so slow you can feel every ridge and vein as he fills you.

“Missed you too,” you parrot back, a little delirious now that you’ve gotten what you want.

Now that he’s right where he should be - with you.

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle @xjoonchildx

2K notes · View notes

solarwonux · 3 years

Text

89. “Just let me finish this level and I swear I’ll go down on you all night.”

93. “Fuck…did we use protection?”

twitch streamer!wonwoo x f!reader

w.c: 3.9k (honestly I think I forgot what drabbles were clearly lol)

warnings: some angst, smut, mutual masturbation, some slight panty stuffing, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, pregnancy scare, talks about plan b

note: excuse me everyone I literally love gamer and twitch streamer Wonwoo, but not everyone does. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one if you want more twitch!streamer wonwoo let me I will be happy to oblige, I have MANY ideas. Enjoy and please let me know your thoughts.

p.s send me a prompt for either svt or bts or both. I will also happily oblige to that lol

Masterlist || Drabble game

Watching Wonwoo play Zelda was not what you had expected when he had texted earlier asking you to come over. “Just let me finish this level and I swear I’ll go down on you all night.” He whispered against your lips in a half kiss when you walked in through his front door.

That had been over an hour and three completed levels ago. It was an empty promise long forgotten as he kept himself immersed in the game, talking enthusiastically about his day and random things his brain would conjure up on the spot. It was like you didn’t exist, and for the most part to his viewers, you didn’t. It wasn’t like you were his girlfriend or anything. Even if you were, you valued your privacy more than anything in the world. You preferred to work on your own things in the background away from his camera whenever you were over. This was something the two of you had mutually agreed to.

Casual hangs and casual sex.

Lately, your relationship had become the product of most of your stress. You never knew where you stood with Wonwoo. Sometimes he would literally invite you over to keep him company while he streamed only to kick you out the second he finished. “I’m too tired, you should go.” He would say pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “I’ll see you later.”

Of course, those moments were overshadowed by the soft touches he left imprinted on your skin. By the sweetness of the words he shared with you and only you whenever he wasn’t working. It made you want more. More of him, more of his attention, and more of whatever was going on between the two of you. But that was something you refused to bring up afraid that the only one harboring feelings for the other was you.

Heartbreak was not in your plans for life, at least not for a while.

You sighed, throwing your phone down onto the couch. Your patience was wearing thin. Maybe it had to do with the fact you were already having a bad day, and Wonwoo’s indifference towards you wasn’t helping. When you had gotten his text earlier, you couldn’t help but feel all giddy inside. The two of you hadn’t seen each other in a few days with work schedules being all over the place and not aligning. It was something to look forward to, not necessarily because of the sex--which was always amazing. But you really just wanted to talk to him. Lay down with his arms wrapped around you while you complained about work and how frustrating your coworkers were being.

By the looks of it, you weren’t going to get any of that, not even what he had promised when you had first walked in. You were tired, your clothes were starting to annoy and you wanted to cry. If it wasn’t for the fact that his front door was in line with his camera, you would’ve left already.

Wonwoo could sense something was wrong with you. Every time you sighed it felt like you were punching him in the gut. He really meant what he had said when you walked in earlier. He also meant the quiet I love you he mumbled underneath his breath when you walked past him and into the living room. He wasn’t sure when he had fallen in love with you, just that months ago he had woken up and you were the only thing he could think of. Every time he held you in his arms the three little words bubbled up in the back of his throat, wishing he could bring himself to finally say it, but his fear held him back. Afraid that you didn’t feel the same way.

“Alright, you know what I think that’s enough for tonight.” Wonwoo smiled into the camera, trying to keep up with the chat as they begged him not to go yet. “I have to go, my girlfriend is over and I want to spend time with her. Anyway, same time next week Monday guys.” Wonwoo nodded, stopping the stream. Once he was positive that he had turned everything off he felt his shoulders relax and leaned back in his chair. He closed his eyes for a second before opening them again, the panic surging through his veins was unbearable. He turned around in his chair meeting your equally shocked face.

He royally fucked up. He just confessed to his audience without meaning to confess. He had told his audience that you were his girlfriend and he hadn’t even asked you yet. The surprise and speech he had worked on all week, the reason he took a break from streaming until tonight, was for nothing. He had gotten ahead of himself and he didn’t know what to do now. Or how to fix it.

“G-Girlfriend? Wait you have a fucking girlfriend?” You stood up from his couch, blinded by anger. “What the fuck Wonwoo, when were you going to tell me? Before or after you fucked me?” You shouted, your heart was beating fast as you turned around to gather up your stuff.

Unbelievable. Here you were distracted, thinking about how cute he looked while he blamed his failure on his character. The pout that had formed on his lips as he pushed his glasses up his nose and blew out a raspberry, moving aside the strands of his newly dyed blonde hair. The frustration you had felt earlier, forgotten, replaced with admiration. Only for it to come back after what he had said, this time fiery red and ready to burn everything it touched.

“Stop, no wait, I don’t have a girlfriend. At least not yet.” He spoke fast, his words blending with one another as he quickly made his way to you. He grabbed hold of your laptop and held it against his chest.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better, did you just call me down to ignore me and then fuck me one last time before you called it quits!” You said in disbelief reaching over for your laptop.

Wonwoo turned around facing away from you. “No that’s not...that’s not what...fuck, calm down please and just let me talk.” He pleaded as he sat down on his couch, your laptop still clutched tightly in his arms. It was your prized possession, it held the first three drafts of the novel you were working on. He knew you well enough to know that you hadn’t backed anything up no matter how many times he told you to do so. So, he was positive that as long as he held onto it like his life depended on it (because it did) you wouldn’t leave without it.

You crossed your arms in front of you ”I am calm, but I don’t know if I want to listen to what you have to say.”

Wonwoo cringed, he was more nervous than what he had intended to be. He had an entire speech planned. Wrote it down, even got Jihoon to proofread it. He had performed it in front of his bathroom mirror every morning and night. He thought he had it in the bag, pumped up his chest a few times before opening his front door to you earlier. Yet, the second he saw you, he forgot everything he had planned to say. This is mainly why he had spent such a long time streaming. Hoping that the distraction would somehow help him remember.

It didn’t.

“Wonwoo, I swear if you don’t start talking in the next five seconds I’m leaving and suing you for holding my laptop hostage.”

Wonwoo sighed and slapped his forehead lightly before turning to look at you, “okay, I don’t think that’s allowed bu-”

“It is if I say that you stole it trying to steal my work, I don’t know I’ll find a way.” You shrugged, earning a glare from Wonwoo. You knew he hated whenever someone interrupted him while he was in the middle of saying something. It was something you would do to him out of spite, but in your humble opinion this time he really did deserve it. Though, it didn’t make you feel as good as you had hoped, “fine sorry, you can continue.” You sighed and sat down on his coffee table.

Wonwoo put your laptop down and leaned over his elbows taking your hands in his. “I love you and I want you to be my girlfriend. I know we agreed to just keep this casual but I can’t help the way my heart literally feels like it’s going to fall out of my ass whenever I’m with you. So yeah, I don’t have a girlfriend yet, because I haven’t asked you to be my girlfriend yet. But there’s no one else, only you, and I’m so-”

Wonwoo was cut off when he felt your body land on his, knocking the air out of his lungs. You hugged him, straddling his hips and burying your face into his chest, giggling. It felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders and you felt awful for assuming the worst and jumping to conclusions.

“Ask me ask me ask me ask me.” You bounced on his lap like a child. He groaned doubling over in pain.

He placed his hands on your hips to keep you from moving, “No now I know you’re actually trying to kill me.” He smirked and left a sweet kiss against your lips. A low chuckle running past his lips as he took in your pouting face, “fine, my love, my baby will you please be my girlfriend?” He cocked his head, his hands playing with the hem of your t-shirt.

“Yes, but only if you give me my laptop back and keep the promise you made me earlier.” You smiled innocently, playing with the hair on the back of his neck.

Wonwoo smirked, his hands made their way underneath your shirt. “No to the laptop, you work too much and I’m determined to back up everything on a hard drive later.” He rubbed his thumbs over the skin of your hips, slowly inching closer to the button of your jeans, “not sure I remember the promise I made earlier though, can you remind me?”

You kissed him slowly, tugging on his shirt, “you said you would finish a level before going down on me all night, and it’s four and a half levels later and I’m still waiting.” You whispered against his lips, before pulling away and bringing his shirt over his head, taking it off, throwing it behind him, aiming for the laundry basket, missing it completely, making you sigh.

“Well you didn’t give me enough time to answer, but that can be arranged.” He pecked your lips, pushing your shirt up and over your head, throwing it behind him. “You’d have to step into my office though.”

“Wonwoo, baby, don’t ever call your room your office.” You rolled your eyes and got up from his lap.

He chuckled, shaking his head and stood up, “oh no that’s not what I meant, room comes later. Tonight we start in my office.” He says cheekily, pointing his thumb towards his gaming setup. Your eyes grew wide as saucers, only making him laugh harder while he pushed you towards his gaming chair.

“Wait, you’re like not going to turn the camera on are you?” You said as he pushed you down to sit in which you obeyed. The colorful lights from his gaming setup kept you distracted as Wonwoo got down on his knees in front of you.

“Nope, I’ve just always wanted to eat you out while you sat on my gaming chair. But maybe one day in the future if you want. You can take over my stream and play animal crossing while I secretly eat you out on camera.” He smirked, the evil glint behind his soft eyes sent shivers down your spine. The little exibitionist in him coming out. You’d be lying if you didn’t find the thought of it exciting.

“One day.” You breathed, lifting your hips, helping him as he pulled down your pants.

Wonwoo sent you a wink pushing your thighs apart with his hands, “We can also play overwatch together. That cute little vibrator you keep hidden in your bedside drawer, stuffed inside your pussy.” He placed his index finger over the wet patch that had formed over your panties, pushing in slightly. “And everytime you die I up the speed, see how long you can last before you have me begging to turn off the stream so you can cum.” Wonwoo kept pushing his finger in you, your panties sticking onto you like second skin.

You threw your head back, digging your nails into the arms of his leather chair. “F-Fuck how long h-have you thought about this?” You lifted your hips as he added another finger.

“Right now, or maybe a few times when you’re not around.” He leaned down kissing your mound lightly, “but seeing you like this, sprawled out, wet and waiting for my mouth is reinforcing those fantasies.” He worked his fingers diligently, pushing the thin material of your panties inside of you. He couldn’t wait to stuff you full with his cock later.

You let out a whimper as his mouth traveled down to your clothed entrance. He removed his fingers licking up a stride, before taking one of your lips into his mouth and biting down on it gently. “W-Wonwoo please I want to feel your mouth.”

“You are, aren’t you?.” He looked, staring at you through the rim of his round glasses before repeating his actions again making you whimper. “Take your bra off, play with yourself for me.” He left a chaste kiss in your inner thigh and sat back on his heels. He palmed himself over his black tracksuit pants as he watched you slowly unclasp your bra, letting the straps slide down your arms. You were teasing him, he knew this but he didn’t care. Seeing you get undressed for him was one of his favorite past times, especially because you always went extra slow for him.

You threw your bra, not caring where it landed. You rolled your palms over your nipples, soft sighs running past your lips as you kept your eyes trained on Wonwoo. “Want to feel your hot tongue fucking me Woo.” You spread your legs even further pinching your nipples. You moved your hand down your body, your index finger playing with the seam of your panties. “Is this one of your fantasies? Me touching myself, sitting here?” You said, tilting your head to the side, moving your hand into your panties and running your index and middle fingers over your clit slowly.

“Yes.” He hissed, pushing his hand into his boxers grabbing onto his cock. “God, you make me so hard.”

“Let me see please.” You arched your back, your fingers getting faster. Wonwoo nodded, wasting no time to free himself, his hand wrapped tightly around his length. His index finger connects with the small bead of precum that had formed, showing you how sticky and ready he was for you.

“Want to taste?” You nodded letting out soft moans as you lifted your hips, into the palm of your hand, sticking your tongue out for him. “Fuck.” He cursed getting up on his knees, bringing his index finger up to your mouth. You closed your lips around it, swirling your tongue over the tip, savoring the salty substance.

You pulled away with a pop, taking your fingers out of your panties and bringing them up to his lips. He took them in, moaning around them. “Do I taste good?” You said taking out your fingers from his mouth, moving them over his lips, wetting them further.

“I’m going to have to take a closer look.” He said lowly, pushing your panties down in a haste. He spread your legs, licking up your slit, teasing your hole with his tongue. Being in between your legs was his second most favorite pastime. He savored every moment of it. Sometimes he would prolong your orgasm, keeping you on edge, so that when you came, your sweet substance would coat his lips, spilling down his chin and neck. It was the most beautiful site, one that only he had the privilege in witnessing.

“Mmm, your tongue feels so good Wonwoo.” You pinched your nipple while tugging on the roots of his blonde hair, pushing his mouth closer.

He moaned, slurping up your juices like you were his last meal. He wrapped his mouth around your clit, pulling it between his teeth before letting it go. “I want to be here forever but I don’t think I can last any longer without being inside of you.” He pushed two of his fingers inside of you. The feeling of your wet walls wrapped around his thick calloused fingers made his cock twitch.

“B-But I-I want to cum.” You pouted, arching your back away from his chair, pushing your hips further into his hand. “Please, I’m so close already.” You pant, the knot in the pit of your stomach threatening to break.

“Oh honey, you will. I’ll have you coming undone more than three times tonight.” He stated with determination and brought his mouth down again, closing his lips around your clit. He sucked harshly moaning sinfully. He fucked you faster with his fingers curling them upwards, reaching the soft mushy skin inside of you.

“W-Wonwoo f-fuck don’t stop I-I’m so close.”

Wonwoo let go of your swollen bud, slowing down his fingers as you clenched around them. “Look at me, I want to watch me while you cum.” You agreed with a pleasure filled sigh, watching as he pushed back his glasses. The sight almost had you coming undone.

He put his mouth on you again, increasing the pace of his fingers. Babbles coming out of your mouth as you pulled on his hair, motivating him to go faster. The squelching sounds coming from your wet, hot pussy sounded like music to his ears. He bit down on your clit lightly, sending you over the edge, your cum coating his fingers, while you moaned his name in a sweet sinful prayer. His eyes burning holes into yours, the sight was award winning, his cock begging to be milked out.

Wonwoo continued, riding out your orgasm. Until you felt the oversensitivity overcome your body “W-Woo, s-stop please.” You pushed his head carefully with the palm of your hand.

He kissed the inside of both of your thighs before sitting up on his knees, taking your face into his hands. “You always look so pretty when you cum.” He pecked your lips repeatedly, before wrapping your arms around you hugging you tightly. “I love you so much.” He kissed your temple.

“Why do you always get so mushy every time you make me cum?” You laughed gently, running your fingers down his back, making him shiver.

“You bring out in me, I can’t help it, stop complaining. I’m giving you time to recover before I bend you over my desk.”

“Not complaining. I love it.” You kissed his cheek. “And I love you.” You whispered in his ear, taking his earlobe, pulling it between your teeth.. He groaned, swallowing hard, his getting tighter around you.

“My desk, then my couch, then my bed, then the shower, and then my bed again.”

The sun had started to rise. It was five in the morning and your body was suddenly overcome with sleep, when Wonwoo pulled out of you one last time. He had kept true to his promise, literally fucked you the entire night, christening his apartment, except his kitchen. “If we have sex in the kitchen, the only thing I’ll be thinking about while I’m cooking is your mouth around my dick.” He said as he pushed you into the wide window of his living room, making you laugh.

“Do you have to work today?” He placed a delicate kiss against your collar bone, laying his head on top of your chest.

“It’s Saturday, why would I have work on Saturday?” You smiled sleepily, running your fingers through his hair. He sighed happily, pulling his sheets over the two of you and cuddling into you further.

“You’re always working, I just wanted to ask.” He shrugged, raising his body enough to leave a chaste kiss against your lips. “Take a break today and I promise that by the time you wake up again I’ll have all of your files backed up into the harddrive I bought you.”

You shook your head, placing both of your palms against his cheeks, squishing them. “Do you know how sexy you sound when you talk about computers.”

“Nope, but you once told me to divide you in half when I was explaining finances to you. Now that I think about it, that statement can go both ways.” He smiled laying down on his back, bringing you along with him. Your eyes growing wide when you felt it running down your thighs. You sat up in panic, removing the sheets of your body to see if your silent hypothesis was correct.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, confused.

“Wonwoo, fuck...did we use protection?”

Wonwoo pushed the covers away with his feet, sitting up quickly. He looked between your legs, his eyebrows furrowing in concern, “You’re on the pill still right?”

“We changed my formula, I had to stop taking it for a few days.” You threw yourself down on his bed covering your eyes with your hands. The tears pooling against your eyes. You felt the bed dip next to you. Wonwoo took your hands in his, revealing your tearful eyes to him making him sigh.

“Baby, don’t worry.” He kissed your cheeks repeatedly before sitting up again, “I’ll run down to the convenience store, get a plan b while you go take a bath. I’ll join you when I get back.”

“W-What’s happens if I take the plan b and still miraculously end up pregnant, it’s only ninety five percent effective.”

“Then I’ll be with you every step of the way. I meant what I said earlier, I love you so much and I plan to marry you and have kids with you one day. Don’t worry.”

Your heart felt full. The butterflies erupting in the pit of your stomach. Wonwoo and you had shared many intimate dreams and desires before, but this one felt different. This was a dream the two of you shared and it made you feel at ease. “Okay, okay I will, just hurry up please.”

Wonwoo scoffed, getting up from his bed, slipping on his sweatpants and sweatshirt. “Baby please don’t underestimate me. I’ll be back before you know it.” He leaned down giving you one last kiss before jogging over to his front door. “I love you.” He shouted, opening the door.

You laughed sitting up on your elbows shaking your head, “I love you, now hurry I can feel your child cooking in me.”

“Impossible, it takes roughly twenty four hours for my sperm to fertilize one of your eggs, and it’s literally been thirty minutes. Therefore you wou--”

“Wonwoo shut up just hurry.”

“Okay I love you.” He said while closing his front door. You laughed shaking your head falling back on his bed. Your entire body was aching and though you were a little scared, given obvious circumstances. You had never felt so much warmth and happiness in your life.

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