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#an old-fashioned waltz
fuckyeahgoodomens · 1 year
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ridrawsart · 1 year
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Now that I'm on tumblr again I can post all my old art - including my favorite Good Omens works I've done! Like this "Good Old Fashioned Waltz" with Crowley and Aziraphale. C:
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babe wake up androgynouspenguinexpert posted another character analysis from the train during her finals week because she's banned herself from drawing anything new
its time to tackle vega, because he's cool.
all of the characters carry a unique narrative theme or motif - the importance of self worth for gavin, impostor syndrome for asher, consent and control for marcus, etc. vega's theme is one of, if not my favourite: nature vs nurture, learned behaviour, and the morality of necessary evil.
vega doesn't start out as a moustache-twirling villain, but he's certainly hurting people for selfish reasons. however - the line between right and wrong starts to blur even across vega's first few appearances. as he points out himself later, vega has essentially created a closed loop of suffering to feed from. yeah, he got someone roofied and kidnapped, which is bad, but he's limited his victims to two people. ivan and baby. there's even a case to be made about baby's safety - ivan is volatile and incredibly dangerous (breaking either glass or ceramic with his bare hands???), but we never see him physically harm baby other than restraining them.
vega's age (pin this) has granted him an incredible level of experience and therefore intellect. he's probably the smartest piece on the board right now, save maybe for brachium (but he's sort of on a board of his own anyway). vega knows exactly what he is. he feeds on suffering and agony, and there's nothing that can change that. equipped with this knowledge, vega has managed to streamline the production of agony without really getting his hands dirty, and basically guaranteed the survival of both people involved.
then in comes caelum. he accidentally discovers vega's operation, and immediately runs to freelancer for help. vega proceeds to kick the shit out of caelum for snitching, and almost kills him. again, this is bad. i'm definitely not defending vega's actions here - but think of it from his point of view: he's set up a way of passively producing agony and is minding his own business. a daemon who is 24 (at time of writing) stumbles across this, and immediately threatens to shut it down as well as get him arrested. that's like a toddler walking in on a meth lab and running to the cops. vega probably could drop everything and relocate to avoid the department, but that would take a lot more time and effort than just soccer kicking the toddler over a fence. so he tries, and fails, because gavin steps in. gavin being able to overpower vega - despite being potentially hundreds of thousands of years younger - speaks to the inefficiency of vega's agony system, and he's smart enough to be well aware of that. agony (in a relatively nice part of california, anyway) isn't really a renewable resource like lust or joy are. harming someone, whether physically or otherwise, enough to fuel vega for any significant amount of time would either permanently damage or kill that person. that's not sustainable.
and then vega gets arrested. the human government asks a being probably older than civilisation to pinkie promise he'll stay in a little concrete box for a while. vega explains later that he doesn't believe in unnecessary violence - unless he decides that it is necessary, i guess - so he probably went along with his arrest fairly peacefully. there's another analysis in here somewhere about where (or from whom...?) the department learned its containment methods, considering they haven't really figured out aria yet.
but anyway - vega gets tossed into maximum security. and even from behind the ward, he's finding subtle (and less subtle) ways to stir the pot, especially with his new department-assigned therapist (another quick aside that's too good for the tags; did anyone else find it super fucking funny that vega's first real friend on elegy is his therapist?). i think vega feels neutral about elegy, leaning ever so slightly towards liking it, but he knows what he is. a demon. vega never was, and never will be, human. that's why he never audibly speaks (which is a fantastic detail) - he's rejecting the most basic form of modern human communication. language. yes, he knows english, but he's probably never spoken a single word out loud. vega's fear of daemons growing away from their roots is also why he starts testing for cracks in the warden's façade - he's worried that daemons are starting to assimilate a little too much. they're losing their identity as a separate species, and losing sight of the sacrifices made during the cacophony. and he's right - the cacophony has entirely faded into myth. his suffering and loss has now been turned into a fable; a cautionary tale about dealing with forces beyond our control.
next is the escape, which is both interesting and sick as hell. vega proves that he's not a fan of violence for the sake of violence by mincing some solitaires, tossing an unconscious warden over his shoulder, and escaping the detention facility. this is vega's first real selfless action. he definitely could have left the warden to the solitaires, but chooses to save them because of their compassion towards him. this shows a little of vega's internal struggle - he's never been around unconditional like, let alone love, because he doesn't need to. he needs to be unlikeable. manipulative. cutthroat. these are the things that keep him safe, but more importantly fed. we know from his imperium counterpart (who will eventually be getting a post of his own) that vega wants to be wanted. as much as he denies it and dodges the topic when it's brought up, vega is not intrigued by the warden because he can toy with them. he's drawn to them because they're willing to understand. they're hesitant, but for now they're giving vega the benefit of the doubt. he's never been given that before.
he also starts to wear down the warden's already fragile sense of morality with the kidnapped department officer. although his methods are very questionable, vega is correct again when he explains that he doesn't really have a choice. he won't hurt the guard, and the guard can't hurt him or the warden, but will keep spewing out hate that vega can feed on for the forseeable future. he's killing two birds with one stone as well - the warden is an inchoate. it's far easier for vega to track down (read: kidnap) one racist than to juggle the emotional intake of two people.
i don't think vega is just trying to break the warden out of their department mould for the sake of shenanigans, nor does he want to return to the glory days - vega knows that humanity and daemonkind are now inseperable after the imprisonment of the sovereigns.
he just doesn't want daemons - genuinely good people trying to make the best of a not fantastic situation - to lose sight of what they are. what they used to be. not anarchists, or pawns for the department. starchildren.
forgive me. i tend to wax poetic.
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ineffable-gallimaufry · 9 months
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okay well i know we got good old fashioned lover boy and everyone loved it BUT next season needs to be THE MILLIONAIRE WALTZ. got it??? like it works. manifesting please and thank you
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elentary · 1 year
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Like an Old fashioned waltz - Nyariewen - Good Omens (TV) [Archive of Our Own]
Like an Old fashioned waltz
Nyariewen
Summary:
Crowley and Aziraphale have their first real dance together.
Ineffable May 07: Old fashioned waltz
Notes:
Still late.
But I love the Good omens main theme.
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howifeltabouthim · 2 years
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We shall never waltz again.
Iris Murdoch, from The Philosopher’s Pupil
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decease-soul · 1 year
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I found the original carebears at this antique store :,) there’s so many of them—I was able to take one home with me !!
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alphabetboyluvr · 2 months
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the curious lifespan of migrating monarchs - jjk
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THE CURIOUS LIFESPAN OF MIGRATING MONARCHS (& other aurelian affairs)
pairing: streamer!jk x international student!female oc (s2l)
warnings: strangers to lovers, clubbing, foul language, alcohol, vaping lol, jungkook is kinda famous, the oc is oblivious, the oc is also a foreign student who has very recently arrived in Korea!! (pls note - while i've been in korean uni dorms, i've never been in yonsei dorms specifically so don't shout at me if it isn't supeeeerr accurate), jaykay is speaking in eng for like 90% of this!!, i've also never watched a gaming streamer and had to do so for research lmao so there's a lot of guesswork going awwwn <3, the oc has tattoos, they bond over this, cute nicknames (tokki and nabi <3), one bed trope?? kinda, jaykay lives w/ yoongi and tae (they are streamers too (and dj?? (tae is a bit unhinged))), jungkook wears calvins!, a singular appearance of yoongi in his boxers!!, tipsy hookup, fingering, protected sex (woo!), desk sex, oral (m receiving), girliepop swallows <3, brief mentions of jungkook's starry eyes, lots of kisses, bunny ears, (1) mention of cross-fit
wordcount: 13011
note from holly: this was a commission done for the lovely Michelle over on my kofi page!! i don't open commissions often, but when I do I'm very lucky that the requests are so much fun. this actually ended up being way longer than it was supposed to be lol and is also available on wattpad!! also fun facts for you - I imagine the boys apartment (and jks room!) to be same as jk + jimins place in BD, just a little bigger lmao
minors dni // cross posted to wattpad
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CLUB SUNDOWN WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE SATURDAY 02:24
Time ceases to exist after the sun goes down in Seoul. It could be two, or it could be five. The only thing that really clues you in on the actual time is the DJ schedule that lights up behind the decks: 02:00-03:00, Blu-Tae.
It's some guy you've never heard of. Looks no older than you. Probably a student, just like the rest of the crowd.
His hair is as blue as his namesake, which does make you smile, and his choices aren't bad either (even if somewhat questionable). You've never heard a jazz remix of Darude's Sandstorm before, and you doubt you ever will again.
Club Sundown is just as rogue as the rest of the city after the sun goes down. Hidden in the basement—like all the best places in Seoul are—the small room is packed to the absolute brim.
Who cares for views and sunsets offered by rooftop bars when you could lose yourself in the debauchery of an eternal midnight, instead?
Drinks are spilt on strangers, and dances have lost the grandeur of old-fashioned waltzes. It's not like you could dance properly, even if you wanted to. There's just simply no space.
Like Alice, you're down the rabbit hole—and oh, how you prefer it to being in the real world. In the shadows, you can be anyone you like.
If you were sober, you'd know this is also the case for daily life. You're in a new country with no ties to your former self. Who you are is who you choose to be.
But the shadows aren't all that dark. The red lights of the club bleed into the cracks, painting everyone in the same subtle hue of danger.
They shine a little light on the identifiers of you; the thin black lines of your patchwork tattoos. Trailing up your arm, they're memories of your past selves, and an indicator of who you hope to become.
"Down this," you say to your dormmate, Rae, handing back over the drink you've just ordered from the bar. "Cloakroom, then dance."
Still carrying your winter coats, you'd wanted to check the place out before committing to it. Entry is free, but the cloakroom is the same price as a drink. It would only be worth putting your coats away if you knew you wanted to stay—and given the fact the DJ was playing O-Zone's Dragostea Din Tei as you entered, you know it's a no-brainer. While his stage name might make you roll your eyes a little, Blu-Tae certainly does cater to your tastes. When you're drunk, and music vibrates through you, it's empyrean. No place you'd rather be.
"Oh, Jesus," Rae gags as she sips the drink you've just handed her. Despite her disgust, she's laughing. Head to toe in black, dark hair loose around her shoulders, she's been your ride-or-die since you arrived in Seoul. Both international students in the same dorm, there's no one you'd rather get up to no good with. "Vodka?!"
You beam at her like you're from the heavens above, wrongfully relegated to the depths of sin. Pretend like you love vodka. It's totally not like you panicked when you saw the menu was all in Korean.
Vodka-coke is a universally understood delicacy—the easiest thing for you to order without making a tit of yourself or butchering the pronunciation. When the bartender ignored your botched attempt at ordering in Korean and answered in fluent English, you'd wanted to melt into the floor. So embarrassing.
You're here, like most foreign students, for a language course. Semester is yet to start, and as much as you've studied and practised hard, it's always different when putting it into practice.
"I'm sorry," you laugh. "It's fine—you can order next time!"
But Rae has the exact same predicament as you. If anything, your language skills are better than hers, so you really have no hope. It's vodka-cokes for the evening, or maybe highballs. Once your tipsy brain manages to compute hangul cocktail names, you'll be golden, but that won't be for another few weeks, yet.
You'll look back at this time of your life fondly, realising how simple it all was, even if it feels incredibly overwhelming right now.
Funnily enough, hope is exactly what you have: for the semester ahead, for this new life you're forging, for the opportunities that may come your way.
In fact, by the time you're on your third vodka coke, you've managed to convince yourself you actually like it. You also can't taste it, thanks to the bartender freepouring a 60-40 ratio of vodka to coke in the first drink. Your tastebuds were wiped out pretty much instantly.
Coats in the cloakroom, you're glad to be wearing thin layers. The room is stuffy; your skin sweaty. While meeting new friends had been the goal, you keep to yourself. Dance like nobody is watching. Hold Rae's hands to stay close and ward off weirdos. Quickly realise that clubs back home are slightly different. Pay it no mind. Ignore the intrusions of hands on waists, because men, disappointingly, are no different.
Or at least most of them aren't.
But most of them don't look like the man in the corner booth, laughing with his friends.
Though he is tall, he's eclipsed by his demeanour. Shoulders broad, he's in a dark T-shirt and pair of jeans. Nothing special. Nothing that warrants such a perplexed stare from you - but he's familiar. You can't place him, but he's got the kind of face you swear you've seen before.
Rae doesn't notice the change in your poise, nor how you're desperately trying to work out where you know him from. Perhaps you've seen him around your university? It's only been a couple of weeks, but people are steadily moving in. Maybe he works at the convenience store you constantly find yourself in? Or mans the front desk of the noraebang you and Rae visit pretty much every other evening?
Impossible, you think. If you'd seen him before, you wouldn't have forgotten him, or the way he constantly toys with his lip rings. Plural. There are signs up around the place stating bar rules. NO SMOKING is rule number three. You've seen his friends pass him over a vape a handful of times. Anyone else, and you'd think it was cringe. Embarrassing.
But in the midst of his laughter settling, and a fresh toke being inhaled, his eyes flicker towards yours.
Perhaps it's just because you're drunk, but you don't avert your gaze. Show no shame. The smile on his lips sinks into a smirk as he exhales. An acknowledgement. A 'hello, trouble'.
Again, any other man, you'd find the vape smoke repugnant. Nasty. Now? Watching the way he flicks his tongue against his lip rings?
You wanna know how it tastes.
Black ink weaves an intricate outline of who he is up his arms. Where he's been. Who he's been. A map, if you will, of his soul.
Much like your own tattoos, he's got thick black lines, and little else. Simple, you assume. A man of convenience. Efficiency.
You wonder if he does everything in life with the precision to match his tattoos, and as your lips wrap around the straw of your vodka-coke, you decide you'd quite like to find out.
Interrupted by Rae pulling you deeper into the crowd, your night is spent in and out of shadows. Attempt subtlety. Try not to make your occasional glances to the corner booth noticeable, just checking if his eyes are still on you. More often than not, they aren't—but sometimes they are, and that's enough to fuel your little flirt.
It's not until the sign behind the DJ booth changes from 03:00-04:00, GLOSS into some other guy that you notice your staring contest opponent has slipped into the shadows himself. The booth is void of both him and his friends. Gone.
"GLOSS has a set at another club," Rae all but yells in your ear, and even then, you barely hear her. "All the hotties left when he did. Let's go."
"Where to?!" You laugh, empty cup in hand. Admittedly, the new guy who's stepped into the DJ booth is just not doing it for you. Blu-Tae was just the right amount of unhinged with classics, whereas GLOSS was definitely cooler, but still fun. Had the club yelling curse words over trap remixes just for the fun of it. This new guy, whose name you don't care to remember, takes himself too seriously, you think.
"It's, like, two blocks down," she yells back, tugging on your wrist to drag you to the stairwell that leads you back up to the streets of Seoul. The hustle and bustle of people trying to go in different directions in the tight place forces you apart, but you figure you'll catch up with her, or that she'll be waiting at the top.
You don't know the roads well enough yet to make it to whichever club it's at alone, and quickly realise when you nearly tumble into the side of a waiting taxi that you're far drunker than expected. Knew the bartender was freepouring, but didn't realise just how free those pours really were.
"Woah, easy trouble," a deep voice sounds from behind you as you're steadied to a more stable position.
"I'm good, I'm good!" You insist, shaking off the hands of your 'saviour'. Have no interest in being a damsel in distress, or some sober guy trying to take advantage of you.
Looking down to check your laces are tied properly, you check over your shoulder to make sure the guy isn't creepily waiting for a thank you that he can turn into an intrusive game of 21 questions—'are you open-minded?' or 'do you live alone?'—but when you glance in his direction, you regret it. Notice the tattoos immediately. Recognise the eyes. Want to die.
"Oh."
"Oh," he says back with a smile, imitating you. Suddenly, the confidence you'd had earlier when looking at him from afar dissolves into nothingness, just like the alcohol in your bloodstream. You feel rather sober, but your body would definitely disagree. "You okay?"
"Yeah, yeah," you nod, suddenly a little stuck for words, desperately trying to play things cool. "Are you okay?"
The pouting of his lips as his tongue runs along the inside of his cheek only serves to make you internally cringe. Men who look like him have no business being on streets like this. Should be in a museum. Strung up on the walls with the other masterpieces. Admired by everyone who looks his way.
In a way you don't yet realise, he is.
Though he's not in galleries, he's often burning into people's laptop screens. Is the background of a fair few thousand lock screens. Indeed, he is admired by everyone who looks his way, just not in the traditional sense.
"I'm not the one who just fell into a car," he reminds you, as if you could forget your embarrassment so quickly.
"Was just seeing if you'd catch me," you bullshit, the confidence you usually have returning tenfold. Was just a momentary blip. He's just a man, after all.
"Oh?" He chirps, decidedly curious. "So you fell for me?"
"Stumbled."
"Semantics."
His fluency, and the fact he just said 'semantics' so casually in conversation, clues you in on the fact he might be a language student, too. 
Could be useful study partners for each other, you think, then mentally berate yourself for already masterminding ways to see him again.
"So, where you going?" He asks, not caring to downplay his curiosity. The bartenders were free-pouring his drinks just as severely as they poured yours. The only difference is that his were on the house—'cause you were right. He does have a recognisable face. "Should probably go with you. Make sure you don't fall into the road."
"Stumble," you insist, a little pleased with the boldness of his suggestion, but not wanting to blindly agree. "My friend," you say glancing around, only to find yourself completely alone. "She wanted to go catch the next GLOSS set. So, I guess that's where we're going."
"Just down the road," he says, knowing the schedule like the back of his hand. Bounces from club to club supporting his friends, just like they would for him. If he wanted, he could get a slot up there, too. He doesn't care for it. "I'll walk with you, if you want? My friends are heading there anyway."
It's not a bad offer.
In fact, it's probably the best offer you'll get all night.
"C'mon," he nods his head to the side, encouraging you to follow him. Checks his phone for the time. "Starts in five."
If there's one thing you've indulged in since moving to Seoul, it's how safe you always feel. Security cameras are on every corner, and you've walked home countless times without any issues, even late into the night. While the place isn't perfect, it's far safer than your home country.
Still, you're not a complete idiot.
"It's not wise to follow strange men down dark alleys," you tell him.
He holds out his hand. Waits for you to shake it. Cocks a brow when you hesitate, so introduces himself.
"Jungkook. Nice to meet you. Now, can we please hurry up? I promised I'd be there."
Narrowing your eyes, you don't shake his hand. Arms folded over your chest, there is ice to your exterior, and given how warm his eyes are, you doubt it'll last for very long. May as well keep up this hard-to-get act while you still can.
Walking on past him, you call back, "Alright then. Lead the way."
In the domed mirror meant for reversing cars at the end of a tight alley, you see him laugh. "Wrong way, idiot."
Pausing, you scrunch your face up. Don't turn to face him for at least a second or so—but when you do, you're surprised to see him walking towards you. Hooking his arm around your waist, he carries on walking in the 'wrong' direction, taking you with him.
"Was just fucking with you," he grins. Nods towards a sign by another basement entrance, listing both Blu-Tae and GLOSS.
By the door, Rae is looking around like a mother duck who's just lost some of her ducklings when crossing the road. Breathes a sigh of relief when she spots you.
"C'mon," she grins, then realises who you're with. Says nothing of it, 'cause she doesn't want to be weird, but she recognises him, too. Decides she's just had a little too much to drink. There's no way it's him. Holds out her hand for you.
Reaching out for her, you're let go from Jungkook's grip, ready to get lost in the lights once more.
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HAEJANG24 WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE SATURDAY 05:53
Seoul is a city for the nocturnal. The restaurants and bars are open until the last men are standing. Given how much you've had to drink, you're surprised you still are.
Rae had dipped an hour or so ago. Had hit it off with Mr Blu-Tae himself. Seduced him with the suggestion that their couple name would be Blu-Rae. He'd said they should go to a DVD-bang. Would be fitting. See what Blu-rays were on file.
Naturally, you'd looked on with mild disgust and also admiration for how quickly she'd worked her magic. Everyone knows what goes down in DVD-bangs. Small private rooms, often with projector screens and the world's least comfortable futons, they're somewhere you hope to never end up—but also can't wait to hear all the details the next morning when Rae comes to your room for a debrief.
You'd been left under the surveillance of Jungkook.
"Look after her," Rae had instructed, then narrowed her eyes. "Or I'll destroy your reputation with a single twitter thread, Tokki."
It's a threat he's taken seriously. Knows how the internet works, and even though he's never done anything worthy of a cancellation, he also doesn't intend on starting now. The fact you seem to have no idea who he is during the daylight hours intrigues him. It's a rarity on streets like these.
Even when a few people asked for pictures with him on your walk to the hangover soup place, you didn't clock it as weird. Figured they were friends passing by, wanting to document their chance run-in. Just another memory of the night. The way Jungkook had greeted them was full of warmth, and kindness. Why wouldn't you assume they were mates?
You were also still incredibly drunk at the time, so didn't think to question it. Was keen for food, and Jungkook had insisted on hangover soup, and so that's where you are. Dishes nearly empty, far more of it eaten by him than you, you're laughing about nothing and everything all at once.
"Right," Jungkook declares, deciding he cannot hold in a question that's been tickling at his brain for the entire meal. "What the fuck is that?"
Coat left in the cloakroom, long forgotten about, your tattoos are on full display for him, just like his are for you. Up your arm they trail; a patchwork of teeny tiny identifiers. Latin phrases around skulls, birth flowers of the people you hold close, butterflies and stars. There's an ode to your favourite musician and your favourite Shakespeare quote, too. The fabric of you etched into your skin. There's no reinventing yourself, even half the world away from home.
You know precisely which tattoo Jungkook is asking about. You've asked yourself the same question a few times.
"Fuck off," you laugh.
While most of your tattoos are gorgeous, there's one that was done by a rogue artist on a girlie holiday a few years ago. What was supposed to be a seashell now looks like... well, nothing really. It's just a blob, thanks to the artist being absolutely terrible. The only solace you find in it is that your two best friends have an equally awful permanent reminder of that holiday on their bodies, too.
"It doesn't look how it's supposed to," you explain with a little pout. "I got royally screwed over."
He cocks a brow. You still haven't told him what it is. He isn't gonna ask you twice.
With a grumble, you feebly admit, "A shell."
And then he's laughing. Really laughing. Laughing so hard you think he might piss himself—which you'd actually prefer, because then he could be the embarrassed one, instead.
"I'm calling you Shelly from now on," he says with a broad smile. Has had his fair share of tattoo blunders, and knows you must've developed an affection towards how shitty it is. Would have gotten it covered up, otherwise. "That's incredible."
"You're calling me so such thing," you assure him, but you also can't help but laugh.
"I am," he tells you, then really solidifies it. "Shelly."
"Fuck off," you whine, doubling down. Scanning his arms, you try and pick out anything you can use against him, too. "If I'm Shelly, then you're Mike."
"Mike?!" He protests.
"Yeah," you insist, pointing towards the microphone on his forearm. "Mike."
"You are not calling me Mike. Do I look like a Mike?!"
"Do I look like a Shelly?!"
You've got a point. It's not the name he would have first associated with you - but it is cute, he thinks. Cute how mortified you seem. Cute how you can't help but smile.
After a little bit of back and forth, it's decided that neither of you look like your namesakes.
"Y'know, we kinda have matching tattoos," he says, holding out his arm for you to study. "Or at least, the placements."
And sure enough, below his elbow lives the outline of a bunny sitting on a crescent moon. Holding your own arm out next to his, below your elbow is a butterfly. Above it, is a teeny tiny moon.
Like Jungkook's moon, it's a crescent. Was supposed to symbolise new beginnings. You wonder what his means, but don't ask. Instead, you marvel at the coincidence of it all.
He presses his index finger against the butterfly on the inside of your forearm. The echoing chatter of the restaurant fades softly into nothingness as he says, "Nabi."
You nod. Even if you have spoken with him in English this entire time, it's nice to hear him speak in his mother tongue, no matter how minimal - so you reciprocate. Press your index finger against his bunny. Smile. Say, "Tokki."
It further confirms to Jungkook that you have no idea who he is. Has been a while since he's met a girl in a circumstance like this where that's the case. Likes the anonymity of it all. Is hiding his identity from you, and yet hasn't felt such vulnerability for years.
"Daltokki, right?" You continue, not wanting the silence to linger for too long. "The rabbit in the moon?"
You're not wrong, but you're also not entirely right.
"Yeah," he smiles regardless. "That's it."
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JUNGKOOK'S APARTMENT ITAEWON-DONG, YONGSAN-GU SATURDAY 07:12
"Shhh," Jungkook quietly laughs. 
His hand is over your mouth and the other is on your hip as he guides you into his apartment. With your back to his chest, you've both been giggling for the entire ride to his place.
He had insisted that he should walk you home, and was surprised by the offense you seemed to have taken by this. You then told him that he absolutely could not seduce you, and that it was very gender-role-conforming for him to think that you were incapable of getting home by yourself.
"Maybe I should be the one to make sure you get home safely," you had said with a false sense of concern, which had made him laugh quite considerably.
In all reality, you didn't mind him offering to get you home. You just hadn't tidied your room. Didn't really expect to be taking a boy back to your place, much less one that looks like him.
Together, you'd caught the early morning bus over to Itaewon instead of a taxi, 'cause you're still on a student budget and Jungkook wasn't quite ready to blow his cover just yet.
You've been teasing him—questioning his status as a potential International Super Spy—ever since he took your hand and guided you into one of the flashiest apartment complexes you've ever been in. There was security. Doormen. A passcode for the elevator—not to mention that he was heading up to the seventh floor once you were in it. Might not sound like much, but when there are only seven floors to the entire building, it makes it the penthouse by default.
"It's not a penthouse," he'd insisted. "Plus, I live with friends. Only pay a third of the rent."
But a third of his rent is more money than you'll probably see in three months of post-grad work. You're drunk, but you're not stupid. You also know that the rental market here differs significantly from your home country. Monthly rent is cheap, but the deposits are extortionate. Sure, he'll get it back when he leaves, but to have the initial money needed for a place like this? He's not a regular student, if one at all, that much is sure.
"Not sure who's home," Jungkook whispers as you both kick your shoes off in the entryway. Given the looks of the other shoes, it's clear that this is a guys-only living situation. You're proven right when he continues, "Betcha Tae's still in that damn DVD-bang, but Yoongi might be back."
"Yoongi?" You question.
"GLOSS," Jungkook says, remembering how oblivious you are to who he is. Reaching down to grab your shoes, he isn't gonna leave them by the door. Will take them to his room. Doesn't want the boys asking questions, if they are in. Knows they'll just use it as an excuse to publicly roast him whenever they're next online together.
Given that a stream is scheduled for Sunday night, he doesn't want to tempt fate.
Their current choice of wind-up, which the viewers have been eating up, is the joke that Jungkook is a virgin. He's not, but he never knows how to defend himself without sounding like a tool, so always gets a little awkward. A lot of their viewers love it. Join in on the joke. Some take it seriously. He doesn't care.
Next month, Taehyung will do something dumb, and he'll become the favourite joke for a while. Maybe Yoongi. But for now, it's Jungkook.
None of them take it to heart. They're just a group of friends who share their gaming hangouts online, and accidentally made it to the top of the ranks.
They aren't particularly good at gaming, but that's part of the charm. Crescent Collective is how they're known: Blu-Tae, GLOSS and Tokki.
After a bet went wrong, and they all lost, they ended up with moon tattoos and their respective 'symbols'. Jungkook's is a rabbit, Tae's is a blu-ray DVD disk (because he really is committed to the bit), and Yoongi's is stars to symbolise the shine of fresh gloss. Jungkook's makes the most sense. Yoongi's is pretty decent. Taehyung's is just... Well, it's very him.
Sliding open the door into the main living area, Jungkook has to cover your mouth again when you gasp at the sheer size of the place.
"I thought butterflies were supposed to be silent?" He teases. "Quiet for me, Nabi."
His place is bigger than your family home, you think. Hushing you again, he's laughing—and then he's cursing at the sight of a half-naked Yoongi by the kitchen counter.
In his boxers, with half a clementine slice hanging from his lips, he's just as shocked to see Jungkook with you. Gets over it pretty quickly.
"Don't mind me," he says, chewing down on the fruit with a smirk. Looks towards you. "Apologies for the lack of clothes."
With your shoes hooked on his fingers, Jungkook's other large hand is still over your mouth. You're not sure you can form any words as it is, but you do notice the crescent moon and stars on Yoongi's ribs.
"Not a word to Tae," is all Jungkook says. Knows that he'll be in for a world of teasing tomorrow if he gets wind of it. "I mean it."
Holding his hands up, Yoongi's still smirking, but he is backing away into a room just off the kitchen. "My lips are sealed."
Watching as he closes the door, you wonder how much truth is in his words. Jungkook knows it's absolute bullshit. Chooses not to dwell on it. Loosens his grip on you and heads towards his own room. Turns back to check you're following him, and can't help but smile when he knows that you are.
Tossing your shoes just inside the door, Jungkook is quick to pick up a pair of jeans he'd left on the floor, before chucking them over his desk chair. He tweaks his bedding. Straightens it out. Looks a little shy as he turns to face you.
"Made it home safe," he says quietly, as you close the door behind you.
You nod. Keep a little distance. Say, "It's dangerous to sleep after drinking. Make sure you build a tower of pillows in the middle of your bed so you don't roll onto your back."
Both of you are far more sober than you were earlier. There's no need to worry about anything like that.
And yet he nods, now. Says, "You're probably right. You can always stay, though. Just to check I don't die in my sleep, or whatever."
"It'd be the responsible thing to do," you nod, wondering if he can tell just how fast your heart is beating. "But I don't have any pyjamas."
Jungkook swallows. The way he looks at you now is entirely different to how he'd looked at you in the club. Back then, he'd been bold. Flirtatious.
Now, he seems vulnerable. Needy.
"I sleep in my underwear," he tells you, unsure if you'll actually be sleeping. While he likes the idea of fucking you, part of him doesn't want to. Fears it'll ruin the magic of the unknown. The way he throbs at the mere thought of it would suggest that his hopes outweigh his fears. "I don't mind, if you don't."
The clothes Jungkook's wearing are baggy. You've seen nothing of his figure.
Reaching for the nape of his neck, he tugs on the fabric of his T-shirt. Pulls it over his head and discards it in one swift movement. The sound of it crumpling on the floor is abrasive in how it makes you feel. Raw. Unrefined. You suppose it's just a natural consequence of seeing the toned muscles of his chest. How his waist defies what you thought was possible for masculine builds, and how broad his chest is. The indent of his collarbones, and the lines of his pelvis that draw your eyes downwards.
A pair of Calvins peek just above the waistband of his jeans, and a silver chain rests around his neck. Light from the city filters in, and LED lights around his impressive computer set-up paint him in a hue of violet.
"No," you manage to reply, which is a miracle, you think. "I don't mind."
And then you reciprocate. Reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, letting the fabric fall to the floor. Seeing him swallow back his nerves, or maybe his desires, makes you feel far bolder than you should.
"It's really uncomfortable to sleep in jeans," you tell him.
He nods. Agrees. Threads the button of his trousers through its loop. Doesn't take them off yet. Waits for you to do the same. Keeps his eyes firmly locked on yours. Doesn't let his gaze wander, no matter how much he has to fight all his instincts not to fully take you in. Is still pretending like he doesn't want you in the most indecent of ways.
The room you're in right now is known worldwide. 
People set it as their zoom backgrounds. It's on Pinterest. There are YouTube videos attempting to recreate the set-up. If he were to power up his computer—which, in all fairness, is only on standby—and go live, there'd be a thousand viewers within minutes. Doesn't matter what he plays, or who he's with. He doesn't give it much thought anymore. Is just life.
Sometimes, he regrets not being a faceless streamer, but he also knows that it's part of the appeal. Connection, and the fantasy that comes with this almost dystopian, parasocial idea of it.
After all, the meeting of his eyes with yours across a busy club led you to this point. Human connection in the simplest of ways, that he thinks could culminate in the most complex of ways, too.
"Okay," he says. "So take them off."
"You want me to?" You ask just to tease a little bit, and when a smile flickers onto his seemingly nervous lips, you're glad you did.
"You think we'd be here right now if I didn't?" He says with a tweak of his brows.
"You've got a point."
With that, you push your jeans down and reveal the matching set of black underwear you're in. It's nothing special. In fact, it's not really a set, but it's close enough that it'd fool anyone who didn't know.
Jungkook, in this moment, is indeed a beautiful fool.
There's a lopsided grin on his face as he lets his eyes rake down your body. Is shameless as he indulges in you. Nods, as he bites down on his bottom lip.
"It's cold," you tell him, urging him along a little bit.
"Shit," he says without much thought. "Sorry. Was just... Yeah. Shit."
It's both endearing and wholly confusing how Jungkook flips from confident to cute. A man of duality. It makes you giggle, and then you're the one biting down on your bottom lip. Are both a little bashful. A little shy.
"I'm only here to make sure you don't die in your sleep," you remind him before it goes any further.
Looking at him now, knowing you want him in the worst of ways, it's testing all of your willpower not to just cut to the chase.
Thing is, you liked his company tonight. Want it again. Want to give him a reason to seek you out once more. Want him thinking about you in clubs, and looking for you in crowded bars. Pining. Yearning. Needy.
"It's already gone seven," he tells you, walking towards his bed. Knocks his head to the side. Silently tells you to follow suit. "Will probably only get a couple hours in."
"Better than nothing. Plus, you're actually really irritating," you bullshit as you get into bed with him. Are adamant you won't fuck him, but you do let him pull you in closer.
"Oh, yeah?" He grins.
"Mhmm," you nod, pretending as if you aren't looking at his lips. "You'll be less annoying when you're asleep."
"I'm never gonna sleep again," he assures you. "Will annoy you forever."
"I know where the front door is," you say as you stroke a few of his loose, wavy hairs back behind his ears. They fall freely almost right away, but it just gives you another excuse to play with it "I can just leave. I'm only here to make sure you don't die in your sleep. Pointless if you're awake."
"So I have to be asleep for you to stay?"
"Mhmm," you hum.
He immediately loosens his grip on you and flops into an overdramatic sleeping position. Fake snores. Gets you giggling. Can't hide his smile, either. Laughs through the god-awful noises he's making.
But it is late, and you're both tired. As much as he'd like to stay awake with you, the pull of sleep is just too tempting now that you're beneath his sheets. It's not like he doesn't wanna fuck you. His semi is very much present, but neither of you mention it.
"Y'know what's sad about butterflies?" Jungkook mumbles after the laughter dies down. He carefully begins to trace the lines of your tattoo, eyes entirely focused on the tip of his finger.
You purr a response before you fully vocalise one. "Tell me."
He glances up at you only very momentarily. Looks back down. Is quiet when he says, "How quickly they die. Spend over half their lifespan growing into these beautiful creatures, and then they have, what—A week? Two? Three, tops—and then they're gone. It's like the cherry blossoms in spring. Beautiful, and then—" He clicks his fingers. "—gone."
Stroking back some loose strands of his hair, you wonder if he's thinking about you. About this chance encounter. Beautiful, then gone.
"Just means you have to appreciate them while they're still around," you say softly. "Cherish them, because you know you only have them for a moment."
His gaze lifts to meet yours. The reflection of his LED lights makes it seem like butterflies are floating around in his deep, dark eyes, too.
There are stories he could tell you of ancient folklore; about human souls taking the form of butterflies. Of justice, and peace, and spirits. Of back in time, when tigers still smoked. He could tell you of his favourite butterflies. Of the black butterflies that are as large as his hands in the summer. Of the huge display in a museum downtown that would transfix him as a child.
Instead, he gently presses his lips against the lines of your butterfly tattoo.
The rate at which your heart is beating multiplies. Like a swarm of butterflies chasing through your veins, you've no control over the way you're feeling. He's brought your artwork to life; set the souls inside of your butterfly free, only for it to be apparent that the souls belonged to the both of you, anyway.
You know that this is one of those moments; a butterfly passing on by through your lives. Here, and then gone. Beautiful, but fleeting.
There's a shyness to Jungkook now, as he rolls onto his back. A reluctance to get things wrong. He doesn't look at you, just nibbles on his bottom lip and pretends as if the empty white ceiling ahead of him is the most interesting thing he's seen all night.
It's not.
You are.
You, and those eyes that make him feel like the butterfly on your arm is tickling at his tummy. He finds himself jealous when he faces you again and begins tracing the thin lines of your butterfly once more. Wants to embed himself into you like the ink that's carved out a home in your skin.
"Sorry," he mumbles, seemingly regretful of the tender kiss he'd pressed against your arm just a short moment ago. "Don't know why I did that."
"It's okay," you reply without much thought. Like him, you're letting the way you feel dictate the words you say. Care not for playing coy. "I liked it."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Jungkook wants to stop his mouth from letting his desires escape. The issue is, he drank a little too much tonight and his lips are a little too loose. Too bad. Can't help himself from asking, "Can I do it again?"
You're just as bad.
"Yeah," you whisper. "Please."
The way his lashes splay against his cheeks as he presses another kiss to your arm is nothing short of celestial. Like that damn moon on his arm, he's got a beauty about him that's hard to capture in words. Ethereal feels too fantastical, but gorgeous feels too dense. He resides in a realm somewhere between the two. Somewhere you'd like to stay forever.
Forever, sadly, only lasts a few hours. You've brunch plans with new friends you can't bail on yet for fear of running a friendship before it's even begun.
You see yourself out. Jungkook's still asleep. Not quite 10AM, you've a dozen missed calls from Rae, and a cold can of coke waiting for you in your fridge. Funnily enough, though, you don't really feel hungover. Must have gotten it all out of your system the night before.
It's only fitting, when you think about Jungkook on the subway home, and how soberingly drunk the idea of him makes you feel. 
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YONSEI UNIVERSITY DORMS DAESIN-DONG, SEODAEMUN-GU SUNDAY 21:39
Brunch had, predictably, been a yawn-fest.
The people were perfectly nice, but you spent the entire time thinking about Jungkook; how you'd left him in a pretty slumber, the LEDs behind his computer still glowing, with not even so much as a note to say thank you.
It's not like he had any paper on his desk, and you weren't about to start rummaging around his room. You also didn't want to wake him. Part of it was because you knew you'd be saying goodbye, and the concept of that was one that you didn't like all that much.
And so your subway ride back to your dorm had been spent searching his name. He didn't take long to find. 
From the club's Instagram, you found GLOSS and quickly discovered that there was far more to both him and Blu-Tae than just being DJs. Their follower counts were wild. Numbers you know you'll never see on your own account. Verification check marks accented their display names. 
Who are you? You'd thought to yourself, incredibly perplexed by it all.
Jungkook was littered all over their pages, and yet it still took a while for you to click through to his account. You're not sure why, but think that perhaps the unknown was a nice place to reside within. Safer. 
CR3SC3NT_T0KK1 was his username—and curiously, Tokki was also his display name. Brows furrowed, you'd almost dropped your phone when you saw his follower count. It eclipsed both of his friends. 
Filled with gaming set-ups, merch drops, and general life dumps, it was pretty clear that whoever Jungkook had made himself out to be the night before was not who he was in real life. 
Equal parts offended and intrigued, you were only more confused when you saw that Rae was already following him—but not following Taehyung.
"What?" she'd beamed when you'd asked her about it after you'd arrived home from brunch, a scoop of hangover ice cream being waved around in the air with her flamboyant gestures. "He's, like, one of the biggest streamers in the country—and if I want to keep Tae obsessed with me, we need as many connections as possible. Jungkook's a frog to me, baby, not a prince. Don't you worry your little cotton socks. I'm not after him."
"I wouldn't care if you were," you'd blatantly lied in response, and then you'd giggled together at how ridiculous you were both being over boys you didn't really know.
Hovering over the bright purple 'JOIN STREAM' button later that evening, part of you holds back. Think it'd be weird. Strange. That he'd somehow know it was you.
Dipping your mouse, you tick the checkbox to join as an anonymous viewer. Take a breath. Think fuck it. Watch with bated breath as the loading wheel turns—and then he's there.
Jeon Jungkook has the kind of beauty that transcends shitty quality streams. Smiling as he jokes with one of his friends through a headset with a pair of black bunny ears affixed to the top of them, you hear a voice you almost recognise. Notice the friend he's streaming with in the top corner. Realise you do know him, too.
Hair as blue as the trees are green, Tae has just as much boyish charm as Jungkook, but also an incredibly large hickey that seems to match the ones on Rae's neck.
"Nah, can we get an L in the chat for Kook," he's teasing. Sure enough, the chat begins to explode with the letter, and Jungkook looks so pretty when he protests.
"It's not an L!"
"It is!" Tae insists. "Should have seen him, guys. Was following this girl around like a lovesick puppy—"
"No, I wasn't!"
"And she didn't even give him her number. Not even her name!"
"That's not true!" Jungkook whines. He switches between Korean and English with ease, sometimes just single words, other times whole sentences. "I have a name."
"What is it?"
"Not telling you."
"Cause you don't have one!"
"No, because you'll all make my life a living hell," Jungkook laughs—and then notices a bright blue comment lighting up in the chat. His eyes widen. "Fuck."
GLOSS: Was calling her Nabi when he got home last night Almost shit his pants when he saw me
"Yoongi, I'm gonna shave your eyebrows off in your sleep," Jungkook growls—only for the chat to start spamming butterfly emojis. Closing his eyes, he leans back in his chair, the still paused video game long forgotten about, now. Thousands of people are in their chat, and even more are watching the stream.
"Guys, get it trending," Taehyung goads. "Tweet, I dunno, bunny and butterfly emojis."
"Don't do that!"
"Hashtag find Jungkook's butterfly."
"Do NOT do that!"
"I'm like a modern-day cupid," Taehyung beams.
"I'm shaving your eyebrows, too."
Closing the stream, you sit for a moment, mouth ajar, unable to process what on earth you've just witnessed. Part of you feels as if it must have an incredibly vivid daydream; a projection of your heart's desire.
And you know you shouldn't, but when you get home from running errands the following day, you join the stream again. Blush when you notice the chat is still teasing Jungkook.
"I'm gonna block you all," he threatens them with a grin, which only encourages them to send even more butterfly emojis.
The next day is no different, nor the day after that.
He is, though. Has been letting it all play on his mind. Doesn't have much of a filter when it comes to streaming.
"What if she didn't even like me, guys," he whines to the chat. "And sees this and is like... mortified. I think I'd punch myself in the face if she ever saw any of this."
You toy with the idea of sending a comment into the chat. Something that only he'd realise was you. Thing is, you feel bad for intruding. As if you shouldn't be prying. As if you're eavesdropping on him chatting with friends, and not on the stream he's broadcasting live around the world.
Typing out a message, you deliberate your choice.
Punch urself in the face pls, tokki x the message reads. 
Simple. Effective. To the point.
But everyone calls him that, you stupidly realise, now.
And so you change the name to 'Mike'. 
Before you can even really realise what you've done, you've pressed send.
The message flitters into the chat feed. He's about to resume his game. Doesn't notice it at first.
Gives the chat one final glance, and then his eyes widen. He sits up taller. Straighter. "Mike?"
You close the lid of your laptop immediately.
"Fuck."
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THE STREETS WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE FRIDAY 23:51
"Tae is on in five," Rae squeals, dragging you down the road at lightning speed. 
You'd spent far too long at dinner, and also had far too much to drink with your food, so have been forced to make an undignified sprint to the club in an attempt to make it in before the place reaches capacity.
There's already a queue. You can see it from a mile away.
Realistically, Rae could have gotten Taehyung to add her to the guest list. He'd offered. She didn't wanna look needy, so had played it coy about her plans for the evening. 
After a single beer and soju, she'd decided that the idea of him hooking up with anyone but her simply wouldn't do.
"Shit," she sighs in defeat, looking at the queue. The direction you've come from means that you reach the entrance before you reach the queue, but even then, you can tell it goes around the block. "Are there no other clubs these people can go to?!"
There are—but this club is rammed tonight for the same reason Club Sundown was rammed the week before. People want to see the Crescent Collective. 
You didn't realise it at the time, but you'd bypassed the queue of the second club last weekend because Jungkook had been with you.
And as if by a stroke of luck, or perhaps a twist of fate, the same tattooed hand that had held you as you slept last weekend is now putting out a cigarette just a few steps away.
Eyes landing on yours, he looks away again, almost immediately. Feels embarrassed. Stupid. For the way you left him, and also for the way he knows you must know who he is, now.
Behind a red rope, he's away from the general crowd. It's sort of obnoxious, you think—but also know Jungkook is anything but.
"They're with me," Jungkook says to the bouncer, not really looking at you, but nodding in your general direction. Is deliberately keeping a little distance. Instead, he says to Rae, "Tae wouldn't want you waiting in line."
Nodding, the security guard makes way for you, stamping the backs of your hands with UV-activated ink as you walk past.
"Thank you!" Rae beams.
"No worries," Jungkook smiles right back. "He's about to start. Was just getting air. You're lucky you arrived when you did."
"Angel," she praises. "I'll get you a drink while we're in there."
You know her well enough now to know that she absolutely will not, but you don't say anything. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest as you walk, suddenly feeling all awkward in Jungkook's presence.
"Nabi," he curtly greets you as you head down the stairs.
"Tokki," you greet him back just as formally. Consider calling him 'Mike' instead, but you chicken out.
Face scrunching up, Jungkook tries his best not to cringe at himself. Doesn't know if you're addressing him by his tattoo moniker, or just calling him Tokki because you know it's his identifier online.
"How have you been?" He asks, not wanting to let it simmer.
"Alright," you say, aware of how awkward this all feels, as you descend the stairs and into the club. The music is getting louder, and soon you won't be able to hear him talk unless you're in each other's ears. "And you?"
"Alright."
Just as quickly as he appeared, Jungkook is lost to the crowd. 
He doesn't care to stick around if he's just going to be hung out to dry by you again. He tells himself that he only made sure you got in to keep Rae happy for Taehyung's sake—yet as he rejoins his friends in their booth, he finds himself desperately seeking you out again.
It takes him a while, but he eventually spots you by the bar in conversation with Rae. He can't make out what you're saying, but notices how your eyes are flickering around the room. Seems as if you're hunting for something. 
Deep down, even if he pretends like he doesn't, he hopes it's for him.
Pulled away from your search by the bartender passing over drinks to the pair of you, Jungkook feels bad. Knows the drinks are pricey in this place. Also knows, from the conversations you've already had, that you're on a tight budget. Had said that once the semester starts, you'll stop going to parties. Are seemingly unaware of the fact the parties never stop in this city. You'll learn.
When your eyes finally land on his a little while later, you're surprised by his intense gaze—intrigued by his lack of shame for being caught out. He doesn't look away or appear embarrassed. If anything, it's quite the opposite.
Girls are vying for his attention all around him, yet you receive all of it. Half the room away, hundreds of people create a sea between you both. Jungkook thinks he'd swim through it, no matter how choppy the water, if it meant he could have you right now.
You're the one who left, though. 
It's up to you to come back.
Part of you doesn't want to, but then you see another girl making advances, and Rae's horror over other girls trying it on with Taehyung seems to have rubbed off on you. The idea of it makes your skin crawl. You're drunk, and a little reactive, but Jungkook likes playing with fire.
As you work your way through the crowd towards him, he tries his best not to grin. Finds himself vindicated in his desire to be close to you, 'cause it seems like you want it, too.
Sliding in between Jungkook and the girl, you turn and apologise.
"Just need to borrow him for a second," you smile, clutching at his shirt and pulling him away from the booth before she even has a chance to protest.
With an ever-so-satisfied smirk, Jungkook shrugs towards the other girl, and lets you drag him wherever you want. He's putty in your hands, a little tipsy and desperately in need of attention from you. 
For the past week, he's played scenario over scenario over scenario in his head about this moment, and now that it's happening, he's glad he let you seek him out. Is so pleased that you actively want him just as much as he wants you.
In the middle of the crowd, you're hidden from prying eyes. It's too dark to notice any discerning features of the people around you, yet somehow, Jungkook seems like a vibrant golden light to you. Impossible to miss. Unable to ignore.
You wanna talk. Ask him about who the fuck he is. Explain that you didn't mean to leave so heartlessly.
Taehyung's set is so overwhelmingly loud, though. Can barely even hear yourself think.
As soon as he'd spotted Rae in the crowd, Taehyung had sent the bar coordinator to go and get her. She's sitting pretty up in the DJ booth, incredibly pleased with herself. Notices you and Jungkook almost immediately. Knows it'll be on Twitter in the next few hours, especially if that damn butterfly tattoo of yours is noticed.
Bunnies and butterflies have been trending for days.
Jungkook speaks, but you can't hear him.
"Huh?" You ask, getting on your tippy toes, but it's fruitless. Even as his hand drops to your waist to steady you and keep you in place, you can barely make out his words. "I can't hear you!"
He can't hear jack shit, either. Frowns. Looks around. Spots Yoongi by the booth and gestures towards the side of the room. When Yoongi nods back, it's Jungkook who drags you through the crowd, now. Just beyond the DJ booth is a little black door that Yoongi meets you by. Taps in the code. Nods in your direction.
"A pleasure," he says with a knowing smirk. Miraculously, you can hear him, but ultimately, it's because you're not in the direct line of the speakers now.
You don't get a chance to respond before Jungkook gets you into what can only described as a dark hole as quickly as he can. Romance, you think to yourself, but you also are very aware of the fact Jungkook doesn't let go of your hand, even when he's searching for the light switch. It takes him a second, but he manages to recall the approximate location quickly enough.
Dingy yellow light floods into the room. Small and boxy, it's a 3-in-1 storage room, bathroom, and dressing room for 'talent'. It's why Yoongi had the code, but you can't imagine anyone with any shred of self-respect actually using this place. The walls are the same grey tiles as the floor, and the light bulb hangs from a wire without a shade. The tap on the sink drips, and you're pretty sure there's a leak in the far corner by the mirror.
None of that matters, though. All you can focus on is the man in front of you. Though not soundproof, the room does offer a far more muted version of Taehyung's set. More importantly, it provides you with privacy.
It's been a week since you last saw him, face to face.
Though you have, admittedly, seen him what feels like a million times on low-quality streams from his bedroom.
Realistically, it's been about three times, but you think about it almost constantly.
"You left," is all he says, a little pout on his lips.
It's cute, you think, that he is so outwardly offended by such an act. You would have thought that a man of his position would have a habit of leaving, himself. Then again, you didn't know of his status when you left him in bed that morning.
"And you didn't die," you reply with a teasing smile, trying not to make it sound so severe. "You were fine without me."
"I'm not joking," he says, even if he can't help but smile at the recollection of how stupid the conversation before bed had been. "You left. It was rude."
"I had brunch plans," you tell him, reaching your hands out for his. He wants to resist. Fails. Lets you pull him closer. Incredibly close, in fact. So close that you begin to notice all sorts of things. His freckles. A small scar on his cheek. A tiny fleck of glitter on his skin, no doubt from one of the girls who had been desperate for his attention earlier. "You'd only had a few hours sleep. I didn't want to disturb you."
"Could have left a note," he says, still pouty but far quieter. You can smell the Jack on his breath. Have always hated the taste, but think you could grow to like it. "Your number. Something, at least."
"I could've," you admit, edging even closer. Closing the gap. Nudging your nose against his. But then you smile. Pull back. Tease, "And you could have warned me that I'd become a trending topic on Twitter."
Just like that, Jungkook's pout snaps into the prettiest smile. His face scrunches up, lines creasing on his nose. Beneath his closed eyes reside the sweetest little puffs. He's got the kind of face that is impossible not to like.
"Ah," he cringes.
"Yeah," you laugh at the stupidity of it all. What did he expect? That you wouldn't find out? "Ah."
"In my defence," he holds his hands up, eyes wide and innocent. "You called me Tokki. How was I to know you didn't know?"
"Oh, give over," you laugh, as he reaches for your hands once again. Pulls you closer. "You know I didn't know."
Truthfully, he does know this, but it was nice to be unknown for a little while. Nice to not second guess your intentions. Even now, knowing that you know, he feels like none of it matters. 
"Look," he begins, toying with the hem of your cropped shirt. Lets his fingertips graze your bare skin. Tries his best not to think about what you look like half-naked. Fails. "I only came out tonight 'cause I hoped I'd see you. I don't care about staying out till ass-o'clock, again."
"Think I've only just caught up on sleep," you hum, angling your chin up and giving him the perfect opportunity to make a move that goes beyond flirtatious touches.
"Exactly," he smiles, letting his hand squeeze the side of your waist. Pulls you closer. "And I've not drunk half as much tonight, but I think I could do with you making sure I don't die, again."
"Yeah?"
Nodding as he nudges his nose against yours, Jungkook is all smiles. Lets his lips line up against your pout.
"Yeah," he mumbles—then lets the word get lost in your lips.
Sinking into what it feels like to kiss you, Jungkook can't help but feel satisfaction. Has finally caught the damn butterfly he's been after all week. 
He's played a lot of games. Won a lot of battles.
And yet victory has never tasted so sweet.
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JUNGKOOK'S APARTMENT ITAEWON-DONG, YONGSAN-GU SATURDAY 02:07
You retrace your steps. Get a taxi to his place, 'cause there's no point pretending like he can't afford it. Not anymore.
You're not giggling like you were the first time you were in his elevator, but it's kind of impossible to do so when your back is to the wall and Jungkook's tongue is in your mouth.
Your hands roam his body—waist, ass. If you can squeeze it, you will. Just makes him deepen the kisses. If his large hands weren't cupping your jaw, keeping you close, they'd be doing the exact same thing as yours.
The ding of the elevator pulls you apart just for a second, and then you're the one pulling him down to the corridor to his place.
He doesn't open the door. Just kisses you again. 
Finally understands what it means to get butterflies, 'cause he's got you, now, and he never wants to lose it.
Hooking his hands beneath your ass, he hoists you up. Gets your legs wrapped around him. Could go in, but where's the fun in that? There's a slight danger of getting caught. He knows the hallway security cameras will definitely pick this up. The threat that it could get leaked online, and the simple fact that he couldn't give a shit if it does, is kind of hot.
"I'm not fucking you out here," you tell him through a hushed giggle, when he rests his forehead against yours.
"Woah," he jokes. "Who said anything about fucking?"
"I can literally feel your boner, Jungkook."
"Touché."
He doesn't even attempt to downplay it. He puts you down. Gets you through the threshold of his apartment. Shoes off by the door, there's no need to be quiet. Yoongi and Taehyung are still out, and will be for hours. He could take his time if he really wanted.
But what he wants is you. Doesn't waste time. Gets you in his room. Kinda feels like you never left. Jungkook still wishes you hadn't, but doesn't mind the idea of you making it up to him now.
"So," you hum, trailing your fingertips across his desk. "This is where the magic happens?"
He smiles a little bashfully, head dropping for a moment before his eyes are on yours again. "Yeah. You could say that."
Now that you're back in his space, it's a little embarrassing just how many clues there were. A headset rests on the desk—black, robust, with his signature bunny ears secured on top—and a mic is hooked up by the monitor. The webcam doesn't look special, but the keyboard subtly glows in his darkened room. Violet, like the LEDs behind his screen.
A laptop covered in vinyl stickers is closed next to the set-up. He uses it when he's not streaming on his desktop. At least three of the stickers are of the Crescent Collective's logo.
Turning to fully face him, you rest your palms behind yourself and perch on the edge of the desk.
He gets a little kick out of seeing you so flippantly disregard the domain in which he dominates. Gives him a point to prove. Gets him closing the space between you, hands on your waist, dipping to your ass to leverage further back on his desk. Knows it's sturdy, 'cause he built it himself, but has never tested out quite how strong it really is. Thinks now's as good a time as any to find out.
Your legs wrap around his body with no thought, just the innate understanding that you want him in a way you're sure thousands of people have only dreamt of: in his room, on his desk, that damn 'Go Live' button just a few short clicks away.
Reaching beside you, there's a smirk on your lips as you retrieve his headset. Put it on him. Say, "The ears are cute, Tokki."
He rolls his eyes. Is fighting a smile, and currently losing. He's seen some lewd shit during his time on the internet and is well aware of the fanart that includes the ears and little else. Always found it kinda funny, before.
Now? He's so hard it almost hurts, and he thinks he could grow to like it.
As your arms drape over his shoulders, he takes them off. Puts them on you, instead. Adjusts the sizing. Gets them just right for you. Is attentive, like that. Pulls his head back a little, and then realises what a problem you're gonna be for him.
It's not so much the addition of animal ears that's getting him insatiable, but seeing you adorned with a crown that is so inherently his that does it.
Jungkook's no saint. He's had his fair share of one-nighters. A couple hours of fun never to be spoken of again. Since the group of them signed to their management agency, they've been repeatedly told how important it is to get NDA's signed. Something about it always feels so icky to Jungkook. Cruel, almost. Has only had a couple hook-ups since then, both with flings he's known for a good couple of years, with no fear of them spilling the beans on how prettily he whines when he cums.
You're the first new girl in a long time. He knows he should really pause things before you cut to the chase—but then your hand is trailing down his thick forearm, delicately stroking his rabbit moon with a curious smile. Decides he doesn't care.
"The ears are cute," he replies. Teasingly adds, "Nabi."
The position of your arms over his shoulders ensures the tattoos he'd traced the week before are fully displayed for him. As his eyes drop to your butterfly, you're curiously smitten by the way his lips move to press a kiss against it again.
"Suit me?"
"Mhmm," he hums, eyes flickering back up to yours. "Should also get you a pair of butterfly wings, or something."
"I'd make you wear them," you tell him with a cheeky glint in your eye. "Turn you into a butterfly, yourself. Your girlies in the chat would love that."
Jungkook knows without a shadow of a doubt he'd let you. Not for the girlies in the chat, but for you.
Ghosting his lips against yours, he's waiting for you to press down. Is letting you take the lead.
Your kisses are sweet. Tepid. Reserved.
You're feeling; his hands on your waist, the pressure of his lip rings, the presence of his nose.
And then he's feeling; your bare skin as his large hands slip beneath the fabric of your shirt, the way your legs wrap around him, the vibration of a small groan against his lips.
The skirt you're in is bunched around your hips, and the positioning is just right for you to feel how hard he is against your underwear. It's a little undignified, you'll admit, but you're impatient, so you take control. Reposition his hand between your legs. Encourage him to take things further.
"Yeah?" He checks.
Nodding into a needy kiss, you mumble, "Please."
It might've been a while, but Jungkook's muscle memory is enviable. He's the best player on the team for that very reason.
As he hooks your underwear to the side, he's pleased to be greeted with indications of your arousal. Smirks into the kisses he's giving you, as his fingertips graze against your clit. Trails his lips to your neck. Wants to hear the way you gasp as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you.
"Fuck," you sigh at the welcome intrusion. Nod, as he curls his finger almost immediately. He's got a lot to thank those damn video games for, that's for sure.
Softly moaning, just how he hoped you would, there's an arch to your back as he picks up a pace. The need to perform, almost.
Head tipping back as Jungkook fucks another finger into you, you're unable to think too cognitively. Can only think about the way he feels. The smell of his hair as he presses kisses against your neck, and how prominent his collarbones are as your nails trail up his toned torso.
"Feels so good," you tell him. Move the hand of yours that's been resting on his shoulder to his hair. Tug on it a little. Elicit the prettiest of whines from him.
There's something to be said for making a man—especially one of such strength, stature, status—so weak. Gets you all giggly. Jungkook can feel the satisfaction ripple through your entire body, and it just makes him groan against your neck even more.
"You're so wet," he praises, pulling back to study your face as he plays with you. Lets his thumb stroke up against your clit ever so gently. Revels in the way you get a little shaky. Twitchy. With those damn bunny ears, you really are like a little rabbit. Jungkook finally understands why the fan artists choose to draw him in such a way. It is hot. "You're making me so fuckin' hard."
And then you're giggling again.
"Is it a joke to you, huh?" He smirks. Looks down at your pussy, all swollen and sopping wet for him, in the hazy violet light of his room. Knows that his throbbing cock is gonna stuff you so fuckin' full that laughing won't be an option. Is desperate for it. "How badly I want you is just a big joke to you, huh, bunny?"
The way he groups you in with his moniker is too damn hot.
"Dunno," you rasp, desperately trying to hold off the orgasm that's building inside you. "Fuck me and find out."
Reaching for the button of his trousers, you're quick as you wrestle his jeans down over his ass. Don't bother pushing them down entirely. Just enough to get his boxers exposed, and in turn, his thick cock. Hard and engorged, his desperation for you is evident. A small patch of precum seeps through the fabric of his boxers. He curses as your thumb strokes against it.
"Condom?" You ask, knowing you've got none on you.
"Hold that thought," he says, regretfully pulling away from you.
Watching on as he pushes down his jeans, and strips himself of his shirt, you're at a loss for words. You've seen him like this before, but it's so much hotter knowing that he's gonna be fucking himself into you as soon as he possibly can.
Jungkook could very easily lead you to his bed. Get you comfy. Reach to his bedside cabinet for a condom. Fuck you how he likes—doggy-style, minimal face-to-face contact—and be done with it all very quickly.
Instead, he says, "Stay here."
Doing as you're told, you watch on as he walks to the cabinet, and retrieves a condom. Admire his back, and his broad shoulders. The valley of his spine, and the hard work he's put into crafting his physique. Smirk to yourself as he dips into his boxers. Strokes himself. Once, twice. Tears the packet open with his teeth, just like you were always taught not to do, and rolls the latex down his thick shaft.
"What?" he smirks as he walks back, realising your eyes are transfixed on his cock.
You say nothing. Smile. Hold your hands out for Jungkook to take, just so you can pull him back even quicker.
Lips pressing into yours as he closes the gap, Jungkook is all smiles. Rubs the head of his cock against your pussy, gathering up your arousal all over his tip. Lines himself up with your entrance. Waits for you to give him the go-ahead.
Hand on his ass, you pull him closer. Edge the crown of his cock into you. Whimper. Beg. "Please."
Sinking into you with a laboured grunt, he's surprised with how much tighter you are around his cock than you were with his fingers. Wet and warm, there's an undeniable pleasure that sparks through his body as he gets familiar with the way you feel.
Slowly, his hips begin to pick up a pace. As his tongue strokes into your mouth, there's no dignity to the way he's taking you. The increased pace means heightened moans, and it's not just you—it's him, too.
"Shit, yeah," he grits. "So fuckin' tight, aren't you?"
Whining, you nod into his kisses. Are at his entire disposal as he grips your waist, proving exactly why Tokki is the perfect nickname for him.
As much as he likes the ears, he's a little worried that he might fuck you so hard they fall off. Doesn't wanna break them, and definitely doesn't wanna think about the story the boys would make up when they go live tomorrow to tease him—but also really wants to fuck you harder.
Which is funny, cause the way he tugs them off with such desperation and tosses them down, you'd be forgiven for thinking he couldn't care less about breaking them. Doesn't give you a chance to say anything, 'cause his big hands are cradling your face, bringing you in for desperate kisses once more.
There's a lewdness to the sounds you make together, but Jungkook knows that if he was an entirely different kind of streamer, you'd make bank together. Wonders about the way it would look on camera. Worries. Pauses.
"You good?" You check a little breathlessly as he reaches behind you, just to tug the wire to his webcam from the plus.
"Yeah," he nods, still fiddling around behind you. Smiles in the hedonistic haze as your lips find a new home on his neck. Strokes your hair gently, and presses a kiss to the side of your head. Quietly says, "Just making sure there's no way in hell I accidentally start streaming."
You hum, all purry and pliant. "People would pay good money to see it."
While he agrees, and has had the same thought process, he doesn't care. "You saying I should be charging you for this?"
"Oh, no," you say all very sweetly. "You should be paying me."
"I'll pay you with orgasms," he promises, knowing that it's a rare currency for one-night strands.
You smirk. Pat the top of his head. "Sure you will."
If there's one thing Jungkook loves, it's a challenge.
Pulling back, he turns you around. Gets you bent over his desk with zero opposition from you. Rubs himself against your soaked cunt, then asks, "Yeah?"
"Yeah," you smirk, and then settle into a sigh as he pushes into you. The feeling of fullness from Jungkook is one that's hard to compare. So thick, and fat, and heavy, his cock really is just as impressive as he is.
With one hand hooked at the crease of your thigh, the other holds the top of your shoulder. Gets you pushed down onto his cock as far as you possibly can be. There's a slight reflection in his streaming plaque beside the monitor, and you're pleased to see just how intensely focused he is on you, brows furrowed, pretty pink lips resting ajar. The silver of his lip rings and chain catch in the light, and you find you can't look at him for too long. He's too hot.
But then he's reaching down for your clit as he fucks into you. Has your legs shaking. The waves of a familiar sensation begin to lap against the shores of your pleasure.
"Fuck," you whine. "Feels good. Keep it like that."
Jungkook knows better than to ignore your requests. Does as he's told, the pressure of his fingers on your clit only deepening. Rubbing calculated circles against you, he knows just how to work you up. Gets you whining. Mewling. Moaning.
"Gonna cum, aren't you?" he smirks, as his own high builds.
"Fuck—"
"C'mon," he husks, feeling your walls tighten around him. He doesn't stop his relentless chase. Will win your orgasms fair and square. Continues pounding into you. Pace fast, strokes deep, he's everything you could ever want and more—and then he's slowing. Keeping you plugged, nice and deep, but focusing on the way he's toying with your clit. "You know you wanna cream for me. All over my cock, pretty Nabi. C'mon—"
"I'm close," you all but whimper. "So—fuck. So close."
"Yeah, you are," he tells you—and then your legs are shaking, pussy tightly clamping around his cock, one hand tense against his desk while the other grabs at his wrist. Uncontrollable, is the way you whine for him. It's so needy—so desperate and pathetic—that it's almost a sob. Jungkook doesn't ease up. In fact, his hips gain a little pace again as your orgasm shatters around you both. He's breathless, but manages to choke out, "Flithy fuckin' cunt. Feels so fuckin' good. Fuck."
The frail limpness of your body as the orgasm smokes away is cute. Jungkook loves it. You're so weak for him. He fucks into you still, chasing his own high, and your whines only get louder. It's overwhelming, but you never want to lose the feeling.
It doesn't take much. Just a minute or so of your tight cunt, and Jungkook is pulling out. Even though he doesn't ask you to, you get to your knees as he tears the condom off.
"In my mouth," you beg, and who is he to reject such an offer?
Jerking himself to completion, Jungkook is all pretty and pathetic when he cums, too. Looks at you with eyes so starry you'd been forgiven for thinking he was a descendant of the constellations.
He milks the final few spurts of himself onto your wet tongue, and curses when you press dainty kisses to his tip. Stroking your tongue against him, you don't want to waste a drop. Look up at him and find that his eyes are resting shut from the pleasure of it all.
Silence surrounds you both, just your beating hearts and laboured breaths filling to the room. He helps you up. Holds you tight. Hugs you for a little while, then presses a kiss to the side of your head. "Thanks."
"My pleasure," you giggle - and then he's smiling, too. Feels vindicated by his irrational thoughts about you over the last few days. He pays no mind to the fact you're still technically dressed, and he's basically naked.
As he sorts himself out, you perch back up on his desk and languidly swing your legs. Enjoy the thought of memories plaguing him whenever he tried to play his little games over the next few days.
"You wanna grab a shower?" he offers. "Food, too? Dunno about you, but I'm fuckin' starving."
"Same," you nod, biting down on your bottom lip. "I'll go wash up, you sort food? Are places still open for delivery?"
Checking his phone for the time, Jungkook is surprised that it's closer to midnight than it is to his morning alarm. Only a handful of places will offer delivery at this time, but that's enough.
"Works for me," he says with a yawn, then opens what you had assumed was the closet door. Reveals an en-suite and knocks his head to the side. "Get your shower. Gimmie a shout if you need anything."
Tiles large and grey, it's the perfect counterpart to his bedroom. A little dark, but it's only because Jungkook hates using the big light. Always flicks the small light switches instead. There's a window overlooking the city, and even though you're only seven floors up, the hills of Yongsan-gu mean that he's got a view you could only dream of.
You're about to start the shower up when he calls through. "Is pizza good?"
"Pizza's good," you call back with a smile. Look yourself in the mirror and wonder how the fuck you ended up in the bathroom of arguably the most famous person you've ever met. Decide it's better not to question it.
The shower begins to cascade down, even if your sins are washed way, you know you won't be able to forget the feeling of Jungkook so easily.
Truth be told, you won't even try.
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YONSEI UNIVERSITY DORMS DAESIN-DONG, SEODAEMUN-GU SUNDAY 21:13
"L in the chat," booms the voice of Taehyung through your laptop speakers. His trademark grin rests on his face as he teases Jungkook.
You've only just opened the stream. Instantly, you focus on the prettily lopsided smirk of Jungkook's lips. You've learned it's an almost permanent fixture on his boyish face. Shaking his head, he's adjusting his headset. Making it a little looser so that it'll fit him properly.
No one is questioning it.
What they are questioning, is where the fuck that pretty purple bruise on his neck has come from.
"Cross-fit," Jungkook just shrugs, knowing that it's the colloquial term for suspicious bruises after some idol used the same excuse. Blatant horseshit. Jungkook doesn't care.
"I've never done cross-fit, but I know you're bullshitting," Taehyung snorts.
The chat seems to agree with him.
"Thought I was a virgin?" Jungkook states a little cheekily, making reference to Taehyung's usual banter. "How else would I get one?"
Taehyung knows better than the retort. Knows that Jungkook could very easily slip something about Rae into the conversation.
Virgin? You type through a message on a private discord chat with Jungkook. He'd set it up the day before. Has already sent you, like, a thousand messages. Is what can only be described as obsessed—but it's mutual. Could have fooled me.
As his eyes glance down to his laptop screen, he fails to hide his smile. Had opened your chat on there, cause he didn't wanna accidentally broadcast the messages onto his stream. Despite this, he doesn't care that there are nearly 10,000 people in his stream merely minutes into it. Is far more interested in his chat thread with you. Replies immediately.
Stop distracting meI'm working</3
Giggling as the message pings through to you, there's a giddy quality to the way Jungkook makes you feel.
He'd spent the day in bed with you after your night together. Had wanted you to stay when he started streaming that evening. Said he'd only be an hour or so, and was incredibly pouty when you did leave.
It had just been him on last night's stream—headset off 'cause he didn't wanna adjust it back yet, hoodie on to hide his neck. The other boys were nursing hangovers, so he could do what he liked.
What he did do had you incredibly curious. Was just chatting. Talking to the comment section. Sleepily reeling off facts he'd recently learned about butterflies. Debating over their lifespan.
You're not naive to the fact that Jungkook does this streaming stuff as a profession, and are aware that the more people talking about his stream on other platforms, the more viewers he'll get.
Made sense for him to add fuel to the butterfly-related fire by talking about them.
Had sent you a message earlier that evening to ask what kind of butterfly you had on your skin.
A Monarch, you'd told him.
"See, the thing is," Jungkook had rambled to his viewers a little later on. "Most butterflies have super short lifespans—Monarch's included."
Eyes all starry, lights in his bedroom purple as per usual, he'd looked cosy. You wished you'd have stayed.
"But there's a specific kind. Migrating Monarchs. They're the last of their generation—the final butterflies of the year," he marvelled at the magic of it all.
His facts were a little hazy, but he knew enough. Had been down a you-shaped rabbit hole all afternoon.
"And they migrate, right? Move away from home—somewhere warmer—and then it just extends their lifespan. 180 days. Not 30. That's six months. Six months. It's a long time. It's not fleeting. Not in the slightest."
It's also, curiously, exactly how long you're scheduled to stay in Korea for.
"I dunno," Jungkook had just sighed, a little forlorn, trying to make sense of his thoughts.
He bit down on his bottom lip, stroking his thumb against the hard plastic ears of his headset, then focused on the camera again. Wondered if you were watching. 
He simply shrugged. Said, "Counts for something, though, right?"
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pastanest · 5 months
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Spencer Reid x she/her!reader
A/N: just a short lil blurb idea I had whilst procrastinating from finishing my other two WIP’s xoxo
warning: implied age gap of reader being a “young woman”, but no specific reference to Spencer’s age, I just envision this as a very post-prison thing for him to do
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Listen
“Excuse me, lady, but you don’t get to waltz in here and start ordering my officers around. This your first day on the job or something, sweetheart?” The local chief of police smirks down at you, condescension dripping from his every word.
That, coupled with his casual misogyny, is enough to have you smirking right back at him.
Shocker, another old-fashioned cop assuming that a young woman like you doesn’t know what she’s talking about. It’s almost laughable. Almost.
“FBI Agent first, ‘lady’ second, and ‘sweetheart’? Not under any circumstances. I’m here with the rest of my team to assist you on a case that you’ve requested our help to solve. You don’t like the way we do things? Raise a formal complaint. If you want this case solved, you’ll do well to listen to the advice given. This is far from my first case, and you are far from the first police chief to invalidate that.” Your voice is the epitome of cool, calm and collected.
Naturally, that only aggravates the ignorant man in front of you. More predictable than a- well, actually, there are few things more predictable than the fragile masculinity found in a man like this.
“I’ll be happy to listen to your boss before I take any orders from a girl with a mouth bigger than it ought to be.” The local chief of police eyes you up and down, as if to intimidate you by comparing your stature to his.
Much to his surprise - and absolute dismay - his efforts are in vain. This is made clear when a quiet laugh passes your lips and you lean back against the wall, crossing your arms over your chest and looking to your left.
Moments later, as though emerging from the shadows, Doctor Spencer Reid takes the few large strides necessary to reach your side. A formidable force, exacerbated by the dark scowl that’s etched into his features and directed at the local chief of police. Having not long returned from visiting a crime scene, he had overheard the conversation between you and elected to wait before he stepped in, hypothesizing both how far the ignorance would go, and how long he would be able to hear it before seeing red.
“If you value the continued use of your jaw, I’d advise you close it and listen. Disrespect Agent (Y/N) again and this entire precinct will suffer the consequences of your ignorance.” Spencer’s threat is eerily quiet and, while unprofessional by nature, the intent is understood to the extent that even a local chief of police wouldn’t dare call it into question.
The man caught in Spencer’s glare visibly shrinks, clears his throat, and pretends to find something to very quickly busy himself elsewhere. The glare follows him until he’s out of sight.
“I could have Garcia file a report severe enough to end that man’s career.” Spencer murmurs, gaze fixed on the door that the ignorance left through.
Turning to face Spencer, you smile up at him sweetly and pat his chest, your palm against his tie when the contact snaps his eyes back down to look at you.
“I think making him ruin his briefs in the workplace is punishment enough.” You joke lightly, your words enough to cause a smile to curl at the corner of Spencer’s mouth, a silent understanding caught in your locked gazes.
Nobody disrespects you and gets away with it, not so long as Doctor Spencer Reid is around to commit verbal homicide.
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seventhcallisto · 4 months
Text
Chapter VIII — "sensitive."
Deep down.
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A/n: MDNI!!! MATURE CONTENT! smut under the cut. It's literally pure filth for jongho. There is absolutely no plot in this except for jongho being whipped. It's a lot. Bear with me!!
Toc + cw: semi-hard dom jongho(through the first half)/switch jongho. sub/switchy reader. guided masterbation (f. Receiving) fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex (*gasps of false shock*) biting, boob worship, marking, slapping(ONCE), backshots(drink!), tummy bulge...., jonghos' mouth is kinda filthy, jjong has a noona kink low-key. There's a slight breeding kink in there, knotting!! Tugging!!, lots of cum, aftercare, big dick jongho, snuggly jongho, fluff!! Love you's after smex.
pet names/nns: doll, pretty, jagi(ya), noona, c0ck wh0re(once), little/cub (yours). jjongie, jjong, alpha, teddy bear (jongho's). min, (mingi's).
Wc: 8.6k
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Jongho has an attitude that's hard to see, a personality that can be hard to grasp. That's what he's heard before, what he's read before- and he finds it accurate. Every time he says that, he remembers all the times you've caught him, as if he shared his feelings on his sleeves. The way your eyes scan him whenever you notice the tiniest detail is off, it's happened a lot.
You'd be kind enough to gift the young alpha a blanket if he seems to be curling in on himself a little more than usual. How you'd slip your hot pack into his palms if you catch him rubbing them together, when you'd make sure he was able to get a word in if his eyes seemed to light up at the topic of conversation, that's when he began yearning for you. Your simple affections had caught the alpha by storm. Taking care of him like you were his noona. It wasn't so simple when his friends began noticing it too.
Commenting on how often the two of you went viral for things that seemed more lovey-dovey than normal. How'd they ask occasionally if he was courting you yet, often in alpha traditions that had been abandoned decades ago. His friends could see jongho being old fashioned. Hell, even he himself could see that he preferred the tradition of courting. Maybe that's why he began doing it oh so subtly. Comforting you when you're nervous. Handing you anything he seems good enough for you. Sharing his clothing.
Buying you things, food, clothing, jewelry. He felt sick to his stomach with anxiety as you opened everything he gave you. Just wishing for your approval.
He had been courting you in his own way, unbeknownst to you and him. But in reality, he knew he was courting you, why else would he stop to look at a matching set of promise rings? He just didn't want to be rejected, so he kept it to himself. Kept his yearning to a minimum. And pretended like his heart didn't race when you called his name.
You had so casually swayed over, taking his hands in your own and spinning back and forth. You circled him as he sang. The caressing of your hands over his shoulders and waist as you leaned into him happily. Bouncing on the balls of your feet. Your group's song playing over the speaker. You all had just won an award. Yet the only thing jongho could keep his eyes on was you bouncing and swaying to the beat over his shoulder. Smiling brightly. Mumbling the lyrics into your mic flawlessly along with him.
Perhaps that's when jongho realized he was in love with you, or that he had known he would never love anyone else like he did you.
You trust jongho to guide you through the door of his shared room. Hands never leaving your hips, sliding down to nudge against the hem of your shorts just on the curve of your back. Strong and heavy and pushing you backwards, a waltz you can't see or predict because he's suffocating you with his tongue, shoving it around your own and swiping up every little noise you let out. Telling you to be quiet, so the other members can't see or hear you two entering their bedroom.
Jongho thought for a minute to take you on the counter in the bathroom, but why do that, when he could have his sheets covered in your scent? It'll give him something to remember. His hands pry the hoodie off, the shirt sticking to your skin, it's tossed somewhere in the room. Once your foot hits the edge of his bed you're falling atop it, splayed out so prettily in a daze for the younger alpha. Your hands reach for him, gripping the end of his shirt as you try to pull him above you.
He's staring and he knows he's staring. Your eyes squint, shyly. “Don't look at me like that” you mumble with your oh so swollen lips, he has a hard time stopping his lip from jolting up into a guilty smile, his hands coming around to grip the edge of the bed next to your thighs. “I'm allowed to stare, you're beautiful” he says honestly with a dreamy sigh, ignoring your protest, he goes on, holding eye contact as he’s leaning over your form with his strong arms that flex against the shirt he wears. He looks you over once for the go ahead, brown eyes caring and attentive. “Hurry jjongie” you huff.
His hands are rough, pulling your shorts and underwear off in one go, fingers digging their way down around the plush of your outer thighs. You whimper when you almost come off the bed, legs falling between jonghos. Again he stares, his hands sliding up to round up your thighs in his thicker hands and part them, your glistening cunt on display from the angle he bends your thighs to the side at. As he does you shift back to scoot up the bed. It's no use cause he holds you there, you're getting shy, legs attempting to close.
“Don't, I want to see you.” His eyes peek up from where you're leaking, his teeth prying his lip to hold back. You shake your head. “Stop staring” you mumble, turning your head away from him and closing your eyes. His hand snakes up your jaw, tugging you back to look at him.
“Show me how you play with yourself” he demands, eyes piercing. Your heart thumps out, jaw falling slack in his grasp. He pries your hand from the sheets of his bed, guiding it up to his lips. He's using his own fingers to guide yours into his own mouth, eyes prying as he gathers the slick on his tongue over your own digits, you let him guide you, a satisfied groan slipping past his lips when your knuckles bump the ridge top of his mouth.
He takes them out not a second after he deems them lubed up enough. His eyes cascade down your body, dipping your fingers along with his, he places them over your cunt, leaving them there for you to go on.
“Show me” his eyebrow shoots up as he demands again, eyes slotting from your flush expression back to the fingers he left over your cunt. He wants a show. And you're gonna give him one. You push them to open your lips, sighing softly. You slip one of your fingers in, then a second one, and pump them slowly. Gathering your palm to rub circles against your neglected clit.
He laughs lightly, it's a teasing sound, one that has you clenching your thighs close. He pulls them open again easily. “Come on doll, you can do better than that” he hums, glancing up at you. His hands come over to press against the curves of your thighs. Lifting you up so he can see you better, it's lewd and an exposing position that has you biting your tongue to hide any embarrassing noises.
He scoffs, using one of his hands to grip your jaw, it's not tight, just enough to get you to part your mouth open. There's a pinch in his eyes, a glint that has you staring back wide eyed. “Don't hide. Let me hear you.” His round eyes are piercing, he thumbs your palm out of the way to circle his thumb against your clit, slow agonizing circles that have you arching up into your own fingers.
“Jjongie-” You gasp when his thumb leaves, eyeing him up as he continues to look down at your cunt. His fingers prod your opening, that's when your jaw falls slack. He's pushing two of his digits in with your own, rubbing against the underside of your knuckles with his wider and heavier fingers.
“I didn't tell you to stop” he mumbles, pushing your thigh up again with his free hand that was just on your jaw. He's still digging his way inside, wiggling you open with little angled thrusts of his fingertips. “Keep going doll, use your fingers” you slowly pump them in again with his command, feeling the underside of his own fingers against your own steadily being slicked up. You feel a bit full with four fingers inside you, reaching for that spot that you can hardly reach.
Jongho seems to understand what you're doing, your own little moans picking up the farther you try to reach. “Mm, can't reach jagi? I'll help you” he shushes you softly. When he starts moving them you whimper, they're pressing down to move past your own, although you've had four cocks that are a thousand times bigger than your fingers, you miss how full you've been. Your stomach turns in knots, trying to reach an orgasm that's not gonna come without jonghos help.
You're slipping your fingers slightly out of your walls before you can even realize why. Jongho stops moving, gripping your wrist with his hand that's halfway buried inside you, stilling your fingers from coming out any more. “Where do you think you're going?” He scoffs, eyeing you as if you had the nerve to even pull yourself out. “Jongho-” You hiccup when he bottoms his fingers inside you, pistoning them to the hilt, a steady rhythm he begins setting himself as he grinds them over your other fingers. His free thumb digging into your clit.
“You don't listen,” he sighs, falsely upset. “Need me to do it all by myself” he whines into his words quietly. Thick thighs coming up to part your thigh over his lap. You twitch as he catches speed, free fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling them in and out with his own, getting you to open up. Your walls clench and unclench in a rhythm. When jonghos thumb drives your clit up and down in faster circular movements your face scrunches up.
He's got his fingers so deep in you, digging your own so deep in with his. Dragging them in and out and trying to pry for your g-spot. He reaches it easily with his own, feeling you jolt when he prods the spot.
“there it is, that wasn't so hard” he coos. You're gasping as he bullies the spot, fingertips prodding it for reactions. Your thighs are clenching hard, twitching at the stimulus.
“jongho m-” your orgasm washes over quickly, legs attempting to close because it's too much. He keeps his bullying pace, digging his fingers in to stretch your orgasm until the last drop.
You're panting as he finishes and pulls his fingers out with yours, gasps falling off the tip of your tongue. That was almost world shattering, he was rough- not like you didn't enjoy it, but the slapping of his palm against your sensitive cunt left you feeling tingly.
“What do you say, pretty?” he places your fingertips on his tongue, sucking your juices off. He hums when he takes them out, kissing up your stomach to where your shirt has ridden up. You wiggle, panting gently into the air. He wants you to thank him for your orgasm. It's authoritative- yet you like it.
“Thank you”
He hums against your skin. “You're so welcome little cub” he says with such fondness the tone behind it doesn't catch your ears. He's lifting his fingers under your shirt, kissing the skin as it becomes more revealed the more he pulls it up. It's agonizingly slow. Taking his time with you. Memorizing your skin against his lips. The bottom stops just short of the roundness of your breasts.
He kisses the plumpness of them from where they pool out, teeth nibbling on them the next second. You audibly jolt, gasping lightly. Your hands move to thread through his hair. Tugging on the soft strands. He seems to grow impatient, cause in the next second he's hiking your legs up his waist and pushing you further up the bed. Helping you remove wooyoung's shirt.
Jonghos plump lips still remain glued to your chest, kissing around your prickling skin, against the hardening expansions of your nipples. He's using both of his hands to grip them, the fat pooling between his thick fingers.
You can make out the pattern of his lips following the shape of a heart, he takes the nub of your hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking and tugging. You bite your lip, crying behind a whine. You squeeze him tighter, grinding up into his sweats over his stomach. He hums back, gravelly and heavy, glancing up to look you in the eyes. He pays equal attention to both of them. Rolling them in his hands. Warm and hot at the same time.
“Jongho” you pout “need you” he pops off your nipple with a smile, kissing the irritated skin. “Where?” He asks, kissing up to your neck, in search of the spot that has you clenching. He'll leave a mark, only cause he knows you don't have any activities soon. And because he can't help it. He wants to mark you as his- as theirs. To tell anyone else to fuck off. Just to fulfill that urge to be possessive of you.
You pout despite knowing he can't see it. “Inside” you mumble quietly. Jongho seems to catch it, head placed right on the swell of where your neck meets your shoulder. Breathing against your skin as his fingers rake up the length of your body. Mapping out every inch of you. He slides them down to your hips, sitting up quickly. You're being flipped over before you can gasp, jongho using his strength to move you.
“inside right?” He leans over you, breathing against your head propped up on his pillow. His erection skims the plump of your ass, making you lean into him. It's all jongho in his bed. Laundry, florals, all consuming. You dig your face into it some more. “Yes” you wiggle your hips to caress against his bulge. Teasingly so. He curses under his breath. Jongho works behind you, stripping off his shirt and sweats in an array of fabric noises. If you could peek, you would. But he's already lifting your hips up to slot a pillow under your pelvis, making you more leveled with him.
You know exactly what he's doing, teasing you by staying out of view. You whimper when his hands spread your cheeks open. It's like his eyes leave a trail of heat on you.
“Been wanting to do this since you put on that show earlier” he scoffs, edging into a smile. The slick of his cock tip digging into the underside of your cunt makes you clench, he's gathering your slick to rub it along his length. He must be referring to when you lightly grazed your legs on the inner side of his thighs.
“You're so sensitive” you mumble through the haze, jongho stops, and maybe then you realize you're actually talking back. “Say that again doll,” jongho encourages, hands grasping your thighs right under the swell of your ass. There's a tone there. He squeezes tightly. “i- I didn't mean it-” you wiggle, wishing for that added pressure of his cock again. He smacks your cheek once, the flesh stinging. You yelp into the pillow placed under your head.
“Sure you didn't? Huh?” He's mean, mumbling into his words as he pulls his dick between your lips again, poking and prodding your hole with tiny gasp and a drawn out groan. “sensitive,” he repeats what you say.
“We'll see who's sensitive.” there's no build up to the way jongho flattens his hips against your ass or the way his cock slides in easily, you're soaked, his pillow too. You gasp at the complete size of him, clawing up on the pillow as if it's going to save you from sinking further as jongho pushes his full length in. His groan is cut off, head falling into your shoulder as he props himself above your back.
He digs his free hand that's not holding him up to under you, sliding it down to press against your stomach. You choke as he presses down on his bulge, there's an indention from his cock nestled against your walls.
“Feel that?” He breathily says, pulling out til the tip of him sticks in, you whine at the loss, loosing his wide length as he goes. It's not long he's gone, hand still over the spot he once was at before he's plowing back into you. Hips snapping. “That's how deep I am” he groans when his tip prods his palm.
You flutter, chest heaving as you throw your hips back to meet the hard and bruising pase jongho is setting. He knows his own strength, he has his own self control. Somehow he isn't using all of it to rearrange your guts. “So tight, already had four cocks- and you're still this tight?” He grumbles. Lips falling over your ear, your head digs down, gasps and moans that get cut off cause of every slap of jonghos hips.
It's loud, it's sticky, and your slick is already coating jonghos dick and thighs.
“You're so messy” he sits up to gaze down at your cunt, using your back as leverage to lean his wide palm. Your hips meet every thrust of his, guiding him in easily.
You're clenching around him, whimpering into the pillow. “I bet you get off on this noona, having all your members plow their way into you. You're our cock whore now, yeah?” his eyes never part from your wet core. He's scoffing when you squeeze, clearly enjoying his words. You can't even respond, already too lost in jongho to think.
“You do” he hums, groaning shamelessly into the back of his palm as it comes around to cover his mouth. He's so loud already, he really can't control it. Attempting to bite back every groan that slips, “bet they enjoy it just as much as you do.” he leans over, squishing you completely with his body weight, the angle is harder to move in, so instead you just let jongho use you.
“gonna take you every rut and use you, just like this” jonghos fantasies are seeping into every word. Who knows where these new feelings came from, or the way he's bullying you as his cock gives you exactly what you want.
“shit- keep you so full.” There's a louder breathier moan that comes from his mouth, when he completely digs his dick back in, bottoming out every thrust. His hands come around to the sides of you, knees planted firmly on each outer side of your thigh. Heavy and rutting up every time he thrusts forward.
You can feel his skin scrape against your own, warm and new, skin that you haven't ever felt before from jongho. “Want to-” you moan quietly, “see you” you whine when he pulls out, length taken away and leaving you alone without him to fill you.
You're flipped back over onto your side as jongho comes behind you, spreading your thigh over his hip. He kisses your shoulder as he lines himself up again, throbbing against his fingers as he guides it in. You sigh as you're filled again. Head falling against his chest, just under his chin. He grabs the leg on your hip and widens you further, scrunching your leg up under his strong arm.
“Can't- jongho- alpha-” You whimper at the stretch in your muscles. “I need to be able to reach you jagi” he sighs, groaning through his words. His palm falls over your stomach again where the dent of him lies inside. His thrusts are slower this time, no doubt trying to hold off his orgasm. You're already so close to your own, even before he pulled himself out.
With every hard twitch of his thighs, he's slipping in and out of you. A heavy thump as he hits your cervix at the perfect angle. You gasp every time, tingling building up in your gut. You reach your arm behind you to hold him, threading it into the back of his head where his soft hair is. “Want you to cum, you got too.” he whimpers, the first time he has, just as your eyes take over his. Warm and lustful and round, more softer than they were minutes ago. The sight is peeling an orgasm out of you that has you shaking in jonghos grasps.
Jaw falling open. Jongho takes it as his opportunity to cut you off with a sloppy kiss, his heavy rhythm picking up. Both of his hands come around to grip the bulge of your stomach, dropping your thigh back over his hip. “Just like that- ah. fuck.” He curses quietly, thrusts slowing and becoming sloppy, he bottoms completely inside you. Knot swelling and keeping you close, jongho pulses inside you, hard. His head falling against the pillow next to you when his eyebrows scrunch and his own jaw falls slack. A shuddered gasp pulling from his throat.
A lot of his cum pools deep in you, even so much as spilling out around jonghos knot, you shudder at the warmth, hot and thick and consuming your insides with just jongho.
You grasp for his hand as you come down with him, he reaches back out, smoothing his palm over your tummy and gathering your fingers between his own. Adoring eyes scanning your features, your face shows no discomfort, just sleepiness. It's quite often you get tired after sex, and just like jongho everyone has noticed this. “Are you tired?” Jongho asks with a quiet sigh, planting a kiss on your temple. He's kept himself up, front pressed to your back so you can remain close.
You shake your head. “‘m comfortable, I like being full” you almost purr. Lost in your own afterglow. The younger alpha digs his nose into your shoulder; breathing in your scent as he looks across your body. Hickeys and bite marks align your neck, reaching your most sacred primal spot. They trail all the way down your breasts like patches of butterflies, stopping just below the bottom most round spot of your breasts. Your stomach is completely untouched, left to look round and untainted.
Jongho internally laughs, as if the spot were to be filled. Left untainted so it could be full of pups and cum, their pups. And their cum.
His hips jolt forward. You jump too. Jongho shushes you, softly apologizing. “Sorry, can't help it” he whimpers softly, head digging into your shoulder to calm himself. You press back against him, already asking for more softly. “jongho” you preen when the alpha kisses your neck, head pulling to the side. When you clench his hand over your stomach, jongho feels you flutter around him. A shudder sigh being pulled out of his lungs. “m- please, please move jjongie. Need more” you whimper, already swinging your hips back into him.
He shudders, head pulling out of your neck to look at you, gripping your hips. “You have all of me, pretty, i'm already so deep,” he builds a slow thrust, knot still pulling against you, your breath hiccups at the stretch when he pulls too far out, threatening to take his knot with him. He never does though, pulling it all the way back in, but only slightly out as he slowly works his cock in and out of you. Gradually bringing you two to that edge, even if your thighs are shaking from overstimulation.
You fall halfway over onto your stomach to hide your face into the pillows, jaw falling slack in a silent whine. You're so close, just barely any friction on jonghos part and you're already gonna cum. jongho follows you body with his own, leaning onto his knee to prop himself back over you, gasping short as you spasm around his cock. “jjongie- just like that- gonna cum” you warn him, he hums, strangled as he bottoms completely in you in another heavy thrust. The squelch of your already mixture of cum creating sticky sounds against your bodies. Jonghos eyes cloud over as he stares. It's a sight he prefers over everything else, your slick and his cum is gathering along his length and over your pussy, every time he pulls out more comes with him.
He audibly whimpers when you squeeze him again, overstimulating himself, his knot is not helping. It's painful but it's so good. The perfect mixture of pain and pleasure. “I'm gonna cum- You're gonna take all of it right?- ah. mm.” he bites on his lips to stiff any moans. “Cumming- ah- jongho” you gasp with a call of his name, fingers straining against his sheets. In the midst of going through it, you're flipped back into your side as jongho drapes himself completely over you, pushing your hips as he bends down to bite on your collarbone. Teeth digging deep, his hand once holding him up pulls your face into his neck, signaling you to do the same.
You tremble as you flutter around his cock, overstimulated in the best way. Your bite is wide, positioned a bit too close to a spot he can't hide well. Oh well. Hoodies and crewnecks it is. Jongho cums quickly after a few more shallow thrusts with your name falling off his tongue. Cum painting your walls in more of his scent, it gathers and works to push around his knot, pooling under your pelvis and ruining the sheet. He whimpers into your skin, pulling his teeth back enough to kiss the quickly bruising and deep spot, shallow thrusts as he guides you both through the aftermath.
You tap out quickly after, pushing against his hips as best you can. “too much-” you whimper, panting, jongho sighs as he falls on top of you. Clearly hoping you'd say that. His hands landing on either side to support himself up so he isn't squishing you, breathing harshly against your back. He swallows heavily.
“who's sensitive now”
You laugh lightly, tilting your head up so you can look at him, his boba eyes are endearing, forehead shiny with sweat. “shut up” your hand snakes around his neck, pulling him back in for a sweet kiss. A loving peck that lasts a second of comfort before you're falling back into the pillow, completely lost of strength. Jongho levels down with you, attempting to hold himself up. He's trying. It's not working well, his limbs are slowly becoming jelly.
“Move over” he asks with a kiss on your neck, eyes never leaving your lax face, you peek your eyes open and sigh, struggling to turn in his grasp, you both struggle for a solid second, attempting to rearrange your limbs without hurting the knot tied between you two. You both just end up sideways, facing each other in a mix of limbs. You're able to actually see jongho and all his beauty, he hides all of that under clothing, yet maybe you want him too. He's built like a god. You might actually get too distracted by him (more than you already do) if he were to wear anything more revealing than what he already wears.
“Remind me to take a picture next time” you joke, finger running along his bicep, memorizing the relaxed muscles under his skin and the way the muscles gather shadows. Jongho laughs lightly, eyes heavy with sleep. He watches you watch him, like he always has. Unbeknownst to you. You're his moon and stars. The prettiest thing in the world to him- most perfect too. You don't have to be actually perfect; he loves you as you are. His noona, his member, and his hard working friend. Friend isn't even the right word for jongho to describe your relationship. It's more so.. much more than that. It's a lot words can't describe.
His arm is curled under his head against his own pillow, his other hand reaching to pick up a piece of your hair and stroke it behind your ear. His thumb rubbing against your cheek. His gummy grin is nothing short of beautiful in your eyes when you make eye contact. Jongho has never been one for touch, but being mere inches apart; completely revealed to each other, you can't help but want to hold him like the big bear he is. Run your hands through his hair and kiss around his face until he's red.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks so quietly, you find it hard to believe he even did. You smile, nodding eagerly and shuffling into his embrace some more, hands enrapturing his neck to bring him in. He holds your face with his heavy palm, leaning down to passionately take your bottom lip between his. A slow sinatra that tells him exactly what he wanted to know and you the same. Both of your eyes close as you bask in each other's lips.
He pulls away with an extra breath against your lips, his hand falling away to rub against your shoulder. Soothing it in circles. Your own hands rubbing his neck, thumbing over the mole that you love to stare at. You lean up to kiss it softly, nuzzling your face under his chin affectionately. He lets you despite the racing of his heart, despite you being able to pull away and leave if you want. If you both want. His knot is gone but you're still with him.
The tissues on jonghos nightstand are soft enough to use to clean up, they're of great quality. He gently prys it from your hand as you reach for them and sits up to smooth it over your thighs, gathering yours and his fluids. He's a lot quicker than you're used to, a little rough as he swipes it over your still sensitive and soiled hole. You groan and he apologizes under his breath, tossing the last of it away after cleaning himself off, only the most soaked spots though. He grabs his sweats and shoves them on as he gets up.
He doesn't go far, the trash can by his bedside table is conventional. He takes your face in his hands when he leans over and kisses you deeply, just once before he's getting up and quickly gathering clothes from his drawer. His round eyes every so often flickering to you, as if you'll run away. As if you can. You laugh lightly at the thought, tucking yourself against his bed and pillows. You curl up with one of them, sighing heavily, avoiding the wet patch on jonghos bed.
Speaking of wet patch, jongho comes back with a pair of shorts and a tee on, you miss the skin, but his comfort is most important. He kisses your head when he leans over, hand placed over your back. He's touchy, so touchy. You love it, yet you're scared it'll only last so long. Scared of reciprocating it too much or else he'll flee.
“Look at me” jongho calls your name, interrupting your inner thoughts. You hum as you turn to your side. Jonghos palm falling across your cheek to turn your head towards him. “What's wrong?” Are you that obvious? You sigh “i- I'm just kinda, scared i'll touch you wrong” well. That's not exactly what you meant to say, but it's good enough. Jonghos eyebrows furrow. “Oh, jagi” he laughs at you softly, you go to turn away, suddenly embarrassed. “We just had sex and you're worried about touching me?” jongho voices his thoughts, head falling over your shoulder as he continues to giggle. “Nevermind,” you mumble, attempting to turn away in his grasp.
Jongho smooths his palm against your tummy, turning you back over to face him. “You can touch me, anytime” he responds softly. “Just be careful, we're still idols,” he jokes. You shake your head. “You're unbearable” you pout. “I know cub, but I'm not the one getting shy over touching” he slides in next to you, smiling wide. Eyes scrunching. Picture perfect as usual. His brown hair is hardly a mess, his cream shirt hugs him just right, and his shorts are gathering his thighs up under the loose fabric. He's pulling you gently up by the shoulders to slip his shirt over you now. At a loss for some bottoms.
You really could care less about going without underwear when jonghos shirt is practically a nightgown. The dark fabric makes you look genuinely tiny. You smooth your hand over the fabric when jongho manages to pull a towel out of his dirty laundry, shoving it onto the wet spot. “Where's that towel from?” You scrunch your nose at him. “Brought it back from the gym”
That explains the heavy odor of sweat.
You chuckle, pulling your hair out of the collar of the shirt. “So manly” you hum teasingly. Jongho rolled his eyes, caging himself against your back when he went to lay down on the pillow next to you. “You like it though, I saw you staring” you turn, he's hiding his face smugly in the pillow. “Jongho” you huff, a loss for words. “I don't stare” you mumble, slinking down to lay face to face with him. He shakes his head with a smile and laugh, smoothing his hand over your back once again. “You so do,” he hums. “I do too,” he goes on to admit. You grin cheekily. “Really? How often? When?” You encourage, hoping to get him to start turning red. He's slowly getting there, eyes scrunching closed.
“All the time, when you can't see” he says with a heavy breath, his body relaxing as he admits to it. You smile gently at the confession. “I do too” he laughs lightly at your words, eyes peeking open. “I know you do, you're not very good at hiding it” he bites his swollen lip before he continues, eyes raking over your comfortable figure. “you just can't help yourself can you?” He teases.
You shake your head. “Not when it's you” your finger trails up his neck, pushing on his lips. He parts them for you, kissing the tip of the digit. You sigh. He's so pretty. Your thighs clench. “Jjongie” you call his name softly, eyes glancing over his figure as you struggle to sit up, facing him fully. “Yes?” He quietly responds, hands falling to follow you. “Can you give me one more? Just one? Please” you whisper, head falling to his jaw and sucking the skin there in a sticky kiss.
Jongho moans silently, jaw falling open, he moves to your whim. Holding your hips as you lean over him. You take the opportunity to kiss his mole and neck, trailing down to litter tiny hickeys around the bite you left. Marking him some more. Sucking and teasing the skin. He's breathy, head pulled to the side to let you. You're maneuvering to lay on top of him. Straddling his hips.
“Can i jjongie?” You reach for the hem of his shirt, he's nodding, way too quickly for his liking but he doesn't care, already pressing his shorts against your thigh so he has some relief from the growth in them. You help him work it off his head, he lands against the pillow. He sighs as you stare down at him. Lips pursing when your tongue sticks out to wet them. Jongho rolls his hips against you, cursing the fabric of his pants for being the only separation.
You're peeling your shirt off next, jongho helping you do so. Finally, he's taking time to feel you up, whenever his greedy hands can reach. His tough hands kneading the flesh of your breasts, his thumb rolls over your nipple. You buck, moaning his name quietly, he eagerly responds with his own breathy moan. Leaning up to ask for a kiss, his head falls back down when you smash your lips onto his, suffocating his groans in your mouth. You swirl your hips forward, grinding your cunt against his covered cock.
Jonghos face scrunches, jaw falling slack- completely open as he leans his head against the pillow. “Can't wait noona” he mumbles, reaching down to unhook his sweat strings. You help him, tugging down his shorts the rest of the way. Your hips wiggle in anticipation.
Jonghos dick is flush and red from the strain, bobbing against his lower stomach with need. He grips it, stroking it once to satisfy the ache if only for a second. You grip his hand, grabbing it with your own and squeezing. A whimpered gasp falling off his tongue. He calls your name. “I'm gonna put you inside now jjongie- gonna make us feel so-so good” you whimper at your own words, lining up the tip of him to your hole. He stutters up, holding your waist.
“no prep?” his eyes widened in concern. You kiss his face softly, thumbing over the slit of his tip. He whines softly, eyes fluttering. “Don't need it,, just need you” you whisper against his lips, toying with him. Your head falls over his as you sink your hips down. There's a slow stretch and you're stopping when he's hardly inside. He whimpers, resisting the urge to buck into you. To get himself fully inside your hot walls and paint you again with his cum and scent.
“Told you-” he gasps when your hips sink down a bit more, clenching and tensing around him. “You needed prep,” he cuts himself off, guiding his hands against your waist. You huff, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slack. “s’ too big jjong” you rock your hips, guiding yourself forward and breathing through the stretch. Jongho doesn't comment on the pride he feels or the smug feeling he gets hearing that from you. He helps as much as he can, breathing with you and stilling. His eyes lock with yours when his thumb smooths down over your stomach to circle your clit.
You try your hardest not to move, whimpering. You're seeping along his length, trying to draw him in with pulses of your cunt. “Stop squeezing me- oh. Shi-” he covers his noises by biting his bottom lip. “Gonna cum if you keep doing that” he looks back down at where he stretches you out. Rocking you slowly, back and forth to sink further, you fall down the rest of the way on your own. Gasping loudly when he bottoms out completely. You fall over his chest, grasping along his length as you dig your head down into his neck. Jongho kisses your neck, rubbing your back in soothing circles.
“too tight- ‘m moving? Okay? Gonna help you” he swirls your hips forward, gasping along with you. His hands capture your thighs, just under your hips to dig his blunt fingernails into you. He keeps the momentum until you're slightly lifting your hips up and dropping them onto him. The squelch makes jong buck, digging his length up to meet you. You moan his name next to his ear, your arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders.
His heels dig into the bed every time he thrusts up, rolling his hips with yours, there a pace you two are setting, sloppy. Just trying to get each other off quickly. His hand comes forward to circle your clit from between the both of you, dragging your ass up with his free hand to plant back onto his own thrusts. It's so short, cause you're already spasming around his cock. Crying at the wave of your orgasm already creeping up on you.
“Jongho-! JJongie gonna cum too quick-” you cry against his skin. He digs his fingers, all the more reason to continue his assault on your clit. “Just let go cub, I'm- mm- cum with you” he breathes out quickly, head thrown back in pleasure. His thighs shaking, he's so close, closer than you are, he's been holding it back the entire time.
You curl forward with a cry of his name, sobbing against his shoulder in ecstacy. Your thighs clench around his hips and waist roughly, trembling. Jongho grunts and moans as he stills inside you, rolling your hips back down onto him one last time to get himself all the way inside. His knot pops in the most gratifying way, sticking deep inside you whilst his load covers your womb. His neck is covered in sweat and so are your thighs. Everything feels sticky as you both breathe in unison.
“good?” Jongho laughs lightly, you laugh along. He whimpers dramatically when he feels you clench, mumbling how you shouldn't move as his fingers dig into your waist. You ignore his words, “s’was really good jongho, good job alpha” you compliment him, leaning off his chest to even out your shaky legs. He helps as much as he can, gripping you gently.
You hum with a comfortable sigh as you lay against his chest now. Legs locking up against him. Jonghos hand comes to hold your shoulder against him, fiddling with your palm. The light on the side of jonghos bed keeps you from sweet sleep. Jongho watches your face, relaxed and full of content.
“I love you”
He holds his breath, an accidental whisper of his real feelings. He ruined it- ruined the safe space he just made and completely broke down a wall that's supposed to be there, he tenses. You sigh softly; lip curling. “Love you too teddy bear”
It was bound to happen eventually, the stomping of feet in the hallway only gives enough time for jongho to pull his almost disregarded blanket over your bodies. His tough hands wrap around your shoulders protectively.
The only person to swing the door open is san, his hands holding the knob in a vice grip. His cheeks puffed up when he pokes his head in, eyes completely screwed shut to avoid seeing anything he didn't want too. “There's a hot shower waiting for you, not you” San attempts to point his finger in your direction then to jongho's, based on instinct he measures out where jonghos bed is. He's off by a lot. “Just so you two know it's rude to sneak off, I thought you were coming back” he pouts. Clearly missing you.
You smile into your words, cuddling closer to jongho for warmth against the cold and once abandoned blanket. “Be out in a lil bit, promise” you're surprised at how jongho didn't immediately throw something at san, yelling and telling him to get out. The younger alpha seems flabbergasted as San shuts the door.
His eyes lock back down to yours when you turn your head to see his face, his ears are red. The corner of his lips lifting as you stare, puzzled.
“Do you need company?”
Your shower is quick and easy, jongho helping you to clean up whilst he himself also cleans up, making sure you're able to stand on your own. It's sweet and innocent with him laughing every once in a while when he splashes you, you do the same back to him. He dries your hair gently, running the end of a comb to brush through what he can. He uses it on himself occasionally, warm air puffing up his bangs. He leaves with a towel wrapped around his waist and comes back wearing pajamas, different from the other ones he had on, a loose graphic gray shirt that only barely shows off the bite on his neck. Matching with a pair of heavy sweatpants. Your eyes glance over the bite, sticky with ointment that you insisted on rubbing along it, bruising hickeys lining up against his tan skin, you grimace.
“Jjong, what happened to your clothes?” Your eyebrows furrow, stopping the movement of rubbing ointment against the sensitive bites on your body. “You got them dirty love” he shrugs, the nickname rolling off his tongue easily. He leans over to kiss your head. Basking in the height difference. You decide to just ignore his words, reaching for the clothing in his arms.
It's a pair of simple shorts and a shirt. A grey gym shirt? You glance up at jongho, the guy smiles shyly, hands creeping around your waist. It's fresh at least, still smells like jongho even though he hasn't worn it. You take a satisfied whiff and slip it on, pulling a pair of your own underwear on and lastly the dark shorts that are a bit too loose for you. They're not yours or jonghos. The length is too small for his taste.
“hongjoong?” you smell as his cologne wafts up to your nostrils, you shrug them on, tying the strings tighter before shoving the fresh pair of white socks on as well. “he wanted me to give them to you, to wear” he sighs, guiding you towards the hallway and shutting the light off behind you.
You smile at the younger alphas insisting to guide you, hands tugging yours with him. His larger palm is gripping around your wrist gently, rubbing against your scent glands.
The living room is noisy from the TV. Your nest comes into view as you both round the corner, jonghos hand slips from yours when he steps to the kitchen. You smile at the sight, seonghwa is practically laying halfway on hongjoong, sleeping, wooyoung on the other side of the leader. They're both on the far right of the nest, cuddled up with one of your blankets spread over each other.
Mingi and Yunho are sitting together on the propped up couch, probably taking interest in actually laying on it together instead of in it. Yeosang is laid face down in the middle of the nest, asleep on a pillow. San is placed on the far left of the nest, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. Yunho seems to have been drifting, before Mingi perks up and leaps.
“dibs!” He gathers you in his arms before san can spring up from next to yeosang. San pouts, hands thrown up in defeat. “You weren't even a part of the conversation!” mingi laughs quietly. His hands swing you back and forth in his embrace. You shake your head, having no clue what they were calling dibs on or talking about. You shuffle forward, mingi steps over the empty spots to pull you down onto the couch next to him.
You fall onto mingis lap, feet sticking out and onto yunhos. The sleepy member doesn't seem to mind, his hand curling around so he can hold your ankle. A soft caress of his fingertips over the glands there. You take a deep breath, relaxing against mingi. He tilts your head up, demanding your attention.
“hi min” you greet him, pecking his jaw softly, as if on instinct. He preens, grinning, his lips growing wider and more shy. “hi,” he simply responds, as if a school boy saying hello to a pretty girl. “So..” he starts quietly over the TV. A conversation being held only for the two of you. “Mhm?” Yunho chimes in as he seeps into the couch on the other side. “mingi and i were wondering if you wanted to do some size training tomorrow”
The mentioned male sputters, waving his hand as Yunho flat out says what's on his mind. Mumbles of “that's not.. well-” “i-.. it is, size training- i mean..” coming from behind you. Your eyes widen. If size training is what he truly believes it is, and knowing yunho is massive.. are they planning to… yunho smirks at your expression.
“You think you could take two?” Yunho's eyebrow quirks, genuine interest in his dark eyes. Can you take two? This discussion is so casual, at least they're warning you. “depends” you sigh, leaning into mingi shyly, a pillow brought across your chest so you can hold it. “you could hardly take me, even after i.. you know” yunho seems to grow shy. “it's easier now” your hand comes up to cover your face at your own words. “I.. think it has to do with my- slick?” Mingi shifts from under you, are you even using the right term?
Yunho hums, lip poking out as he thinks. “That's what seonghwa said,” Yunho nods, sighing. “It's still better to be prepared” yunho shrugs, his hand rubbing patterns against your ankle.
“When you do take two, we can know the signs if it's too much for you.”
Yunho's cock does happen to be the biggest in the group out of all you’ve seen, probably to match his size and height. He's just big overall. So if he's big, then mingi (according to your logic of alphas and having big dicks) might actually be massive to also make up for his size. The cute, giggly, wide eyed member who clings to you.. it's too much to think about.
You hum, wiggling on mingis lap. The man sighs, trying to get comfortable from under you. There's a bulge that he doesn't feel like mentioning, hard because you talked about having sex. It's embarrassing to him. “yeah, let's try, it's better when I'm not post heat hazy, after breakfast?”
Why are you scheduling sex? You don't know, but for some reason there's no awkward tension, just passive buildup. It feels like you're planning a date as a couple that has been together for years. Comfortable and tingling. You turn to look mingi in the eyes, he's beet red. Ears flushing under the lights of the TV. “What do you think?”
He nods quickly, a short conformational hum leaving his throat. It bobbles when he swallows thickly. You smile, a huff of air escaping your nose.
“We'll do some size training then” yunho nods, head falling back over the arm of the couch where a pillow is propped. You turn into mingis' side, enjoying his warmth and scent you haven't had on you in a long time. He jumps, hands jolting to lighten his grip just to let you move freely. “Nervous?” You tease.
Mingi smiles, his lips pulling down into a concerned grin, he slots back into his spot. “I might ruin you” he admits with a quiet sigh “I can be rough- I am rough” he's warning you. You glance up at his face. Heat pooling into your own.
You've heard it before, heard about mingi being too rough during sex. Especially during his ruts. He's broken plenty of rut sanctuary beds, you've had to pick him up to pay for it. His skin sticky with sweat and looking much more masculine than when the guys dropped him off. You have your license, yet all you can think about when you drive is how insanely hot mingi looked coming out of the alpha building block, you were probably a liability on the road at that time. His hair is messy on his head and his body completely reeks. He smelt like an alpha who had a tough brawl of it with himself. And he wouldn't even look you in the eyes.
Whatever toys or help they provide never seemed to do the trick cause he seemed much more frustrated and quiet being picked up. You'd ask him if he was feeling better and he'd completely ignore you. He hardly spoke to you afterwards, needing at least three days to recover his attitude. And even after then, you've heard rumors amongst your idol friends about mingi in bed, despite not wanting to know you couldn't help eavesdropping.
Your eyebrow quirks. “Is this your way of telling me you're a warning sign?” Mingi laughs lightly at that, you must be okay with it.
“I'm just letting you know, that's why yunho's there.” he thumbs your chin, his eyes growing more lax.
“To bring you back when it gets too rough”
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I went off the deep end with this one !!!! Literally need to have jonghos babies immediately, I can be the perfect wife, please one chance, jongho!! I no longer feminism when jongho exists. Thanks to my cutie patootie @uhhheather and my pookie bear @hhoneylix for helping me thru some plot and some of the smut teehee!! Ily guys (kisses screen). Also.. size training with yunho n mingi?... mingi being rough?? I have so much to write oh lawrd.
taglist: @lelaleleb @bratty-tingz @0325tiny @smilefordongil @atinytinaa @yunholuvrsblog @ja3hwa @stopeatread @sousydive @voicesinmyhead-rc @giiouis @c4tboyxiao @eastleighsblog @doggopepper @uhhheather (thanq u) @hyukssunflower @hhoneylix (ty, pookie) @tunaasan @satsuri3su @acescavern @edusweah @silentcry329 @silentreadersthings @ldysmfrst @idfkeddieishot @zdgx1 @lomons @rln-byg @mommahwa1117 @ddaeing @chngbnwf @mentoslol @spooo00oky @dawn-iscozy @ateezima @vannabanana1995 @fvlvy @caityelise99 @emmmui (thank u all! If the tag isn't working or i forgot to add u, please let me know ♥︎ if you want to be added to the taglist comment here -> ★ )
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anaquariusfox · 1 year
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Ineffable may! Day 7. Old fashioned waltz 🕺🏻💃prints
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liberumalas · 1 year
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Day 7 of Ineffable May: Old Fashioned Waltz
Inspired by the painting of Joseph Christian Leyendecker called "Couple Dancing 1921".
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ello-its-slimegoat · 1 year
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Day Seven: Old Fashioned Waltz
“The figures danced on the pin without a worry in their heads. The music clashed with the demon’s odd dance but was beautifully executed with the angel’s.”
Decided to do something different for today.
And here’s another pic of it with another Azirpahale:
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kuramoriz · 1 year
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Day 7: Old Fashioned Waltz
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allmyocsarebritish · 20 days
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Domestic bliss <3
Pairing: Alastor X Reader
Warnings (?): Fluff, old timey dancing, the song I imagine they were listening to is linked at the end!!
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The soft jazz of Alastor's radio accentuated the cozy atmosphere, as rain pattered against the glass of your window. Streaks of red light infiltrated the room, basking it in a warm scarlet glow. The scent of pine and the taste of fresh, woodland air emanated from the marshland that spread over half of your shared hotel room.
With a short sigh, you rose from the mahogany desk, wandering over to Alastor, who crouched beside the radio, fiddling with the dials. His coat was draped over the back of your classy chair, the sleeves of his button up rolled back and fastened in place, exposing scarred, slender forearms, which faded from his skin tone to ebony black. He reached out a hand to you, soft smile playing on his black lips as he rose from the floor.
"Shall we, my dear?" He offered, to which you intertwined your fingers with his own.
"Of course, love."
He brightened, free hand delicately resting on your waist, testing the waters to ensure you were comfortable. You leaned into his touch, your own arm draping over his shoulder. Together you waltzed and swayed to the gentle rhythm of the song, and, as the music continued you drew closer and closer towards eachother. Alastor's clawed fingers lightly traced grounding circles across your back, sending slight chills gracing your spine at the gentle sensation.
The drawl of Duke Ellington became nothing but background noise to Alastor's rhythmatic and comforting humming. It drew your attention away from the radio, capturing your undivided attention onto him and him alone. Where it belonged, entirely captivated and enthralled.
Slowly and almost tentatively, as if expecting him to jolt away, you laid your head on his chest, feeling the vibrations in time to the song. But instead of pulling apart as you expected, Alastor leaned further into you, hand separating from your own to soothingly stroke at your hair. Your own arm came to rest on his hip, hugging his waist. The two of you swayed in time to the beat, parting on occasion as Alastor twirled you, which left you giggling and flustered each time before swiftly joining back together.
Eventually, when the music began to fade and the song drew to a close, Alastor's humming also ceased, leaving the room feeling still and silent. You sighed your contentment, though your breath hitched in your throat due to surprise as you were jolted upside down unexpectedly, your back folding over his arm in a dip. He chuckled at your shock, and you chimed in upon catching your bearings.
Alastor pulled you back up in a much more elegant fashion, tugging you in close, your still-heavy breathing matching pace. Your cheeks were flushed and eyes were wide, staring admiringly and adoringly into his own, half closed as ever, to which you were met with the smallest foreign glimmer of emotion.
Affection.
To most it wouldn't be remotely noticeable, but to you, it may as well have been a dramatic love confession. Domestic moments such as this with such a powerful overlord did nothing if not secure your love towards the radio demon. The softening of his smile, the way his tail (which was never exposed to anyone else) wagged in contentment, the occasional slight flick of his ears. They were all permanently ingrained into your memory, as cherished as an age-old family heirloom. This was the way you intended to spend the rest of your afterlife, blissful and content with the one you loved.
Song link:
youtube
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