#and this is with most of my work being in picture form so the wordcount is less

[walkman-cat]

i actually have to get the portfolio done today if it kills me and i will do it !!

[oftenderweapons]

In Your Calvin's | JJK

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x reader (nicknamed Candy)

Wordcount: 9.6k

Genre: smut, fluff, pwp, established relationship

Rating: 18+ Minors, do not interact

Synopsis: Being Jeon Jeongguk's girlfriend is a great honour, but it comes with great responsibilities. When the commercial celebrating your boyfriend (very secret boyfriend) starts playing on everyone's and their mother's phones, it's time you face what it means to be loved by the most wanted idol of them all.

Warnings: Jealousy and general possessiveness. Swearing. Powerplay, switch!reader, switch!jk. Masochist!jk (?). Marking (hickey, writing on body with a pen), hair pulling (male receiving), edging (male receiving), spanking (male and female receiving). Teasing. Mild degradation. Dry humping. A very mild boobjob. Breast worship. Unprotected foreplay, oral sex (female receiving; brief male receiving), unprotected sex (be smarter, kids), rough sex. Mentions of cockring.

One last thing: 1. this was edited at 3am, please bear with me. 2. Sidenote: I try to be as neutral as possible with the way I describe the girls' appearance, however I wanted to specify that in this fic, I mention Candy having long, straight hair (and huge badonkers, but that's kinda canon by now LOL). It's just a brief mention, absolutely nothing major and holds no relevance to the fic, you might not even notice it; but still, I wanted to make sure I thought about my curly haired goddesses, and short haired queens, (or a combo of both heart eyes) and that I apologise for making this fic just a pinch less immersive for you. (Is this the right moment to apologise to small boobs princesses too? ily sisters, itty bitty titty committee 5evah)

Here's my masterlist, lemme just disappear very quickly. Enjoy 💜✨

You knew Jeongguk had a gig with Calvin Klein. You've known it for months. You've seen him cut calories and hit the gym and dehydrate for a couple days before the shoot because he explained to you how muscle definition works, and crucial to showing a great slab of abs is being basically as dry as a breadstick, to the point of being cranky because you have drunk three glasses of water in the last forty-eight hours. 

Which all means, you knew his stomach would be quite surely showing.

And yet your world still stops once you're merrily sitting on your train back home and his half undressed form appears on the screen on your phone. 

At first you slam your phone shut, mostly because you're used to hiding your boyfriend away and that's the reaction you usually have when you open one of his flirty pics from your chat. 

Next, you realise you weren't on your private chat, and you weren't even looking at pictures in your phone gallery. 

You were absentmindedly scrolling. On Instagram. 

You unlock your phone again, and right there you're confronted with the very naked truth. 

Jeongguk. Is basically naked. On your phone. And it's for the entire world to see. 

Your brain slows down, as if the earth axis is tipping over a little in the opposite way. 

Something inside you snaps around the third time the video plays in front of your unseeing eyes. To anyone looking at you, you could be just an obsessed fan taking a close look at the fine piece of art, but your eyes are unfocused, your mind too deep in thought to register any stimulus from the external world. 

The vibration from the phone awakens you from your state of trance. 

“Candy, baby,” says the adorable lover boy calling you. “Have you seen it already?”

Your lips are sealed, and you can't quite bring yourself to speak, you don't know why. 

“I'm on my way back home.” You say, and the words feel like cracking a glow stick in your chest. 

“But did you see it?” His voice isn't as bright now. 

“I'm coming home.” You repeat. 

He's silent for a few seconds, and you can hear him sigh. “Okay.” 

“He's so insanely hot,” you overhear a girl sitting across from you comment. 

“I want to run my palms down the sides of his waist,” says her friend. 

You stare at them and you know you must look like a woman possessed right now, but you still allow yourself to incinerate them with a glare, as if your eyes could turn into flamethrowers. 

“Candy?” 

“I'll be home in ten.” And you close the call. 

On the way back home, you hear more people talk. More girls fawn. More women zoom in. 

On the escalator, you notice a woman fanning herself while staring at the screen. Another one even crosses herself as the ad from your boyfriend reruns on her phone screen. 

Every step on your way home is utter agony, and once you step over the threshold, you're not sure what you're going to do.

Jeongguk is in the kitchen in a sleeveless top, tattoos out, piercings glowing in the gentle light of the living room. And his hair is fluffy, which means he's probably just done blow drying it after taking a shower. 

The fact that the scent of his body lotion is still sharp gives you further indication of how recent that shower must be. 

“Hey,” he says, turning towards you with a bunny grin, which immediately dims once he sees your expression. “Oh. Bad day?” 

You bite your lip and stare at him a fair bit. Then, a bit more. 

“Candy, love.” 

You don't know what to do with him. Is he yours? Is he really yours? 

How come you come home to him making dinner, and being freshly showered, and being so domestic? How come you're living in his apartment, knowing his pass code, having an ID card for his apartment complex and his studio at HYBE? How come he gives you a copy of his schedule and talks about you over the phone on his weekly call to his grandmother and brings you to his parents' house? How come you go on trips together and you're the emergency contact to his fur babies and you make love two to four times a week? How come he's brought you to the town he grew up in and loved you down in the place where he lost his virginity because, "I wish it had been you since the very first time"? 

Who is this man? 

Is he Jungkook from Bangtan Sonyeondan? Or is he Jeon Jeongguk, your very own quiet, shy, reserved lover boy? 

“You're scaring me,” he whispers, putting down his wooden spoon and taking a few steps to stand in front of you. 

“Why me?” you ask, staring at his collarbones, too scared to look into his eyes. 

“What do you mean?” he asks back, sheepish. 

This time your eyes meet his. “Why me? Of all the women out there, why me?” You look down, taking in just how average you feel, every imperfection magnified in your eyes, now that you have so many people you're comparing yourself with, and competing with. 

“Candy—” He starts. 

“Everyone, everyone out there is literally foaming at the mouth at that commercial, and I'm here? I come home to you? I make love to you almost every night?” You pause and laugh bitterly at him. “I'm a fucking fraud.” 

He shakes his head and moves closer, grabbing your wrists. “A fraud, you say?” He tuts in disappointment, places your hands on his waist. “You're not a fraud, ____, you're my soulmate.” He leaves your hands once he feels them clutch at his narrow waist. 

Possessiveness hits you all of a sudden, and it is only mildly ebbed by his hands landing at the top of your ass. 

“I love you, and I make love to you because it's a fucking dream. You're a fucking dream, and I'm so upset that you don't see it.”

You're jealous. You're simply jealous. It's human and it's healthy to be moderately jealous. After all the comments you heard and read, it's fair to be jealous. 

“I reckon you saw the commercial.” 

“I saw the commercial and everyone's reaction to it,” you comment, slightly acidic. 

Jeongguk bends to place a kiss below your earlobe. “Are you angry?” 

No. Not just anger.

Your hands mimic his and crawl to his lower back, toying with the hemline of his underwear. “I'm not mad.” I'm disgustingly jealous and I don't like them having more of what's mine. They already have too much, they've always wanted too much and you always give it to them and I'm furious that it's not mine alone. 

Jeongguk wears a mischievous smile as he makes you take several small steps back, the back of your legs hitting the kitchen counter. “Do you like it?” 

You click your tongue and shake your head. “No.” 

The reply startles him, and he feels his mood dim. Did he—

“I'm not a jealous person, but this… God, this hits a new level,” you finally admit. “They already drool over you quite enough, and now they even have a video of you shirtless. How would I not be jealous!? Half the girls would have snapped your neck. If Yoongi ever did this, Kitten would have his balls dangling from her Mercedes keychain. I don't even know how Lace and Princess are handling their boyfriends naked on everyone's phone. If I were Tae I would seek political asylum in Greenland. Or maybe Tibet.” You take a large mouthful of oxygen before you launch yourself in another tirade. 

“Everyone's talking about grabbing your waist, licking your abs, tugging at your hair and shit and hi! I'm here! I'm the girlfriend! Sorry I exist! WHAT THE FUCK!?” 

Jeongguk laughs and lowers himself to your chest, kissing where your heartbeat echoes like a crazed war drum. 

“It's not fun!” you complain, significantly agitated. 

“Mh.” He hums as he moves aside the hem of your shirt, meeting the soft, smooth skin of your chest. “It was supposed to come out on your birthday, that's why's a bit more racy,” he explains more patiently. “But they decided to release it early.” He kisses a tender spot and your left knee tingles a little. “It was supposed to be a slightly too public boudoir shoot. But secretly it was just yours.” Jeongguk finds the cup of your bra and stares up at you as his fingers reach the hem and slide the fabric aside. “I was thinking of you when I made it.” 

And once his mouth wraps around your nipple, your right knee starts tingling too. 

“Must admit I had to push the limits a lot to finally make you jealous,” he purrs once he is done with the licking, sucking motion of his mouth around your tender flesh. “But I'm sorry I crossed the line.” 

What line? You think, your brain already hazy. No sharp line exists in the world you’re currently in. Just the loving, plush hills of Jeongguk's lips, the slippery slopes of his waistline, the sinuous curves of his hip bones leading you to his pelvis, and the soft curls of his luscious dark locks. No crossed borders, only gentle waves licking the shore, water and land embracing one the other. 

“Remind me who's the boss here, Candy,” he says, and you know he's playing you right now. “Remind me where I belong.” His mouth is at your ear as he whispers, “Show me who owns me.” 

The tingles are spreading as his fingers grab at your ass, his lips connecting with your jaw. “Talk to me, Candy.”

You’re not sure you can articulate words at this moment. Talking isn’t as easy as everyone makes it seem. 

His eyes connect with yours and he can tell you’re staring at his lips by the poetic detail of your lashes lowered over your cheekbone. 

It makes him chuckle, very gently, that he has all these details of you he adores, and that you have the audacity of asking him why he picked you, and why he keeps choosing you over and over. 

He loves you, his family loves you, his dogs love you. This is the way it’s supposed to be. 

His finger reaches underneath your chin, forcing your eyes to actually meet his. “Look at me, sweetheart,” he purrs, and as your lashes dart up, he shakes his head a little, loving the way you arch up a fraction, as if pulled towards him. “There she is, beautiful.”

You feel completely neutralised. Disarmed. All the storms brewing over you a minute ago are forgotten as soon as his sweet smile shines like sunlight above you. 

His hand combs your hair back, cupping your cheek and landing a kiss on your temple. “Are you feeling better?”

You nod. 

“What mood are we in?” You’ve asked him this question thousands of times since the two of you became serious, ever since he opened up about feeling too closed off to make a relationship work; and now, the fact that it was such a solid, valid ritual in your dynamics made it natural for him to ask too. “You need to talk to me, sweetheart.”

“I’m better. I…”

“Tell me what you want.”

You stare at him, at his shoulders, at his biceps, you trace his tattoo with your fingertip, and he looks closely at your finger, at it drawing swirls and circles on his skin. 

“Pick me up,” you say softly. 

And he does, immediately. His biceps flex and he grunts a little, not at the weight, but just because he knows the sound can make your toes curl, and he likes that a lot. His hands are wrapped around the back of your thighs, then they adjust to your bottom. 

“Next? Counter? Bed? Shower?”

You kiss him. Impatient, and needy, you kiss him. 

He opens up for you without hesitation, moaning at the sweet invasion of your tongue in his mouth. God, he loves it. It makes him melt, to feel your tongue slip against his, moving wet and sloppy, your lips plush and hot pressed up against him. He loves kissing you. Actually, he loves making out with you. He’s pretty sure he could come of that alone, and he tries to remind himself you have to give that a try. Another day. 

He places you onto the counter because he fears his knees might give out on him. And once he has you there it means his hands can roam all over you and grab your chest and toy with—

“No touching,” you snap at him, gripping his wrists and pulling his hands behind his back. 

His eyes go wide at the shift in pace, but he obeys. He also feels like he's awakening from a dream only to find out reality can be so much better. 

You dig your hands in his hair and he hisses a little as you tug gently, but still roughly. You think of all the people who wish they could do just so as you stare into his eyes, seeing just how turned on he gets as you manhandle him. 

You lean towards him and you notice him trying to kiss you, but you tug at his hair harder, holding him in place as the heat of your exhale fans over his parted lips and his chin. 

“You want me to own you?” you ask him, watching his muscles twitch as he fights the urge to grab you and put you in place. 

He nods. “Do me all the things no one else can.” He has a roguish smile as he adds, “Do me everything they won't ever, ever do to me.” And he is god of deception when he finally tips you over the edge. “Do me everything I want just from you, and you alone.” 

You watch him intently, then tug at his hair so that his head is angled upwards, throat vulnerable and exposed. 

He's staring at you with a mischievous glint in his expression, a walking temptation, and you can almost hear him say it, 'come on, do it'. And you do it. 

You bend forward and sink your teeth in his flesh, the tender skin caving in as your bite marks him softly before your cheeks move into a suctioning motion that you know will turn into a bruise. It just pleases you so. 

“Take a step back,” you order as soon as you're happy with the hickey. “Take off your shirt.” 

And he winks before he does. You watch the plain of his chest, the valley in between his pectorals leading you down to his navel. 

“I hope you're wearing your Calvin's,” you tease with a cocked eyebrow. 

He smirks. “Always in my Calvin's.” 

You snicker and shake your head. “Take off your pants.”

His forehead scrunches up in surprise, but he eventually obeys. 

He's standing in a pair of socks and his white boxer briefs. At least he didn't lie, they are Calvin Klein. 

“Do you want—” 

“The Calvin's stay on,” you sentence, then you descend from the counter. “Head over to the bedroom. I'll come over in a minute.” 

He stares at you, flabbergasted. 

“Oh, and I almost forgot: don't touch yourself. Settle down, hands on the headboard and wait pretty.” 

He blinks, unsure of where this is going to end or where it came from, but so blazingly grateful for it. 

“Okay.” 

You give him a quick once-over as you stand in front of each other. His abs are toned and defined, but now less alarmingly than the days before the shoot. His thighs are strong and you love how the material from the boxers wraps around them comfortably and smoothly. 

You dare stare at his crotch, at the way the fabric traces the curve of his length, so perfectly long and so perfectly thick.

You allow your fingertips to trace the curve of his spine, so lightly that it causes him to close his eyes, his head inched to the side as he shivers in pleasure. 

“Can I be rough with you?” you ask him, your hand reaching the small of his back and cupping the curve of his ass. 

He moves his hands on you the exact same way you did. “Maybe I like pain,” he suggests, and from the collection of tattoos and piercings, but mostly from the supercut of memories of him getting bitten, spanked and scratched by you, you’re reminded that you’re not dealing with the edited version of him he has promoted publicly. 

This is your boyfriend. Jeongguk. Your Jeongguk. 

You sink your nails into the flesh of his ass, and he hisses but smiles, pulling you closer, swaying his hips to tease your crotch with his. “Go get ready, babyboy,” you croon.

He hums invitingly and kisses your neck, trying to get you to move with him, but you’ve made up your mind already. 

“Go,” you repeat.

He pouts and grabs your hips. “Come on, what are you trying to do?” he asks, his brow furrowed, his eyes dark and wide and imploring for you to just follow him and spare him whatever cruel surprise you want to use against him.

You grab his wrists, making him unclasp his hands. “Go and you’ll find out.”

He hesitates and then he faces away, still reluctant, turning around a couple times on his way, checking if you’re following him — perhaps, maybe, hopefully…

Yet, you don’t move, not until he turns the corner to the bedroom. And then you make your way over, slow, unbothered. 

And you close the door on him. 

You head to the bathroom, wash up quickly, and equally quickly you cover yourself in his favourite lotion, taking special care of your neck and chest. Once properly buttered up and covered in nothing but pretty Calvin undies and his favourite Calvin jeans jacket, you’re ready to attack. But you stare at yourself in the mirror, and you feel like there’s still something you could do to give him a heart attack…

Oh, that, you think. And you get to work. 

Apparently he has behaved, as you find him lounging in bed, with his boxers still on, his hands laced behind the crown of his head, a fine slab of abs in full glow from the dark amber hue coming from his led lights. 

“Are we on a sunset gold kinda vibe— Holy shit.” He didn’t manage to sound as cool and aloof as he’d tried to be once his eyes landed on you. 

He wished he could take a picture of you and spread it across town, just so he could stare at it while waiting for a bus, or hanging out at Hongdae with his friends, and excitedly point at it while tipsy to holler “that’s my fucking girlfriend, that fine piece of ass fucking owns me”. 

He wished he could put you on an album cover and fill it with all the insane stuff you do to his heart and his mind and his body. How his heartbeat does a little hiccup thing when he sees you first thing in the morning, and how he’s spent every wish on fallen eyelashes over you, and making you happy, and building you a house and having fireworks for your wedding night, and having all his fans seeing just how incredibly fantastic you are to him, how you make him so happy and deliriously smitten and barely coherent when it comes to talking about you, and just… He just wants everyone to love you half as much as he does. 

And maybe for you to be only ever in love with him, so he doesn’t risk anyone thirsting for you enough to steal you from him. 

“What were you saying about golden lights?” you ask, climbing on the bed, your hand modestly holding the lapels of his jeans jacket together — it’s not time to destroy him yet. 

“I— I…” He tries to sit up, but you push him back where he belongs with a well-placed hand pressed to the middle of his chest. 

“Put on the red lights, love.” You grin devilishly, watching his doe eyes glimmer with wonder and disbelief. 

“Have I ever told you I am one lucky motherfucker?” he says, staring at your neck, at your face, at your hand, his palms already moving to your hips as you straddle him. 

“I just know it.” You sit on your throne — his lap —, stretch to the end table to grab the remote to switch the lights to red, and once the deal is settled, you let the jacket open. “I mean. I’m the luckiest because I have these, but considering you profit from them… You know…” You let your breasts show. 

“I know…” he says, entirely mesmerised. God, he is so easy, you think, watching his eyes scan your chest like a cat playing catch with a laser light. You mix your standard level of charm with a slow grind of your hips, so slow and gentle that it’s straight up teasing, torture at its blandest level.

“You make it so hard to think,” he speaks with a strangled voice, trying to make you move the way he wants, but you grab his hands with the excuse of lacing your fingers with his, only to drag them back by the sides of his head. 

“I didn’t know I could turn your brain into mush just like this,” you reply, feeling your folds moisten in an attempt to ease the sliding of your crotch against his length. Too bad both of you are still clad in your underwear and, according to your plans, would stay that way for quite a while, as long as possible. “You’re so whipped.”

“I am,” he purrs, and tries to get away with moving his hands back to your hips, but before he can dig his digits in the soft of your flesh, you tut. 

“You’d better not touch that ass, Jeon. Keep your hands to yourself if you want my hands on you,” you threaten. “Just to remind you who’s in charge, sweetheart.”

His eyes go wide and he moves his palms back behind his head as soon as you finish your remark. “Yes, miss.”

“Good boy,” you praise him, and you visibly notice him holding back from smiling at the praise. “Did you see my little mark?” you ask. “Call it a slog

an of sorts. A vision statement.” You shrug and push back the lapels, hoping for the lights not being too low for him to see. 

It has taken a while for your handy work to happen, mostly because it can be absurdly tricky writing in reverse, but thankfully you’re quite prone to graphic arts. 

Jeongguk rises a little, getting closer to where he can recognise dark scribbles on your chest. Unusual dark scribbles. 

“Is that… Tattooed?” he asks, and his eyes go wide as he meets your face. 

You cackle at him, leaning over and licking his lips, sucking his lower one, then travelling along his jaw, nibbling at his earlobe in a way that makes his hips jolt against you, buckling. “I can't have that tattooed, can I? Unless the world knows and it gets a little too permanent.” 

He frowns, not at the way he loses contact with your warm crotch, but because of the unwelcome realisation of what it means to not belong to you entirely. “I'm so sorry,” he sighs, trying to hold you, but stopping his hands before he can touch you. 

He goes back to his assigned position and begs you with his eyes. 

“Oh, no. Don't worry, it's okay.” To keep him distracted, you get back to a soft roll of your pelvis against his, and he seems to oppose, but it only lasts for maybe five seconds. 

His wound-up exhale convinces you to reward him further, lowering your chest so that it drags against his as you keep grinding on him. 

“Jeongguk, baby,” you murmur fondly. 

“So unfair… That I don’t get you like a girlfriend like anyone else…” He speaks, his focus spotty and frail. 

“What do you mean, love?” you egg him on.

“All the public stuff… All the PDA and the grand gestures. The stuff that makes it official, you know.” His eyes are glassy and fleeting as he speaks, and it really feels as if speaking were like making a necklace except he can’t quite line up the beads the right way and he can’t manage to get the string inside the hole and it takes a very long time for the words to finally turn into meaning and it’s all so frustrating. 

“I don’t care,” you reassure him, and this time you’re not unaffected either, the sentence stumbling out of you before you can even fully register the meaning you were trying to convey. “Can you read the tattoo, Guk?”

His eyelids lift through great effort, and in slow motion. You stop moving to help him focus on the writing, and he grunts at the interruption. He does not like that at all, and having you so close, so soft, so hot and wet for him is making his instinct vibrate with need to be inside you, move inside you, and then finally find his release in the welcoming darkness of your womb. 

“I—” He’s really trying so hard, god bless his heart, but he’s so unfocused and his vision is blurry and he needs to blink for a bunch of seconds before he manages to spell the message, and then compute it, and then smirk wildly before he bucks his hips up against you, letting you know that you’d better move on him. 

“What is it, Jeongguk? Mind sharing with the class?” you bait him with a cheshire grin. 

“Not sharing any of this,” he growls, and you can feel his arms jolt at the urgency to wrap around you, press you to his front and shove you underneath him, so that he can finally move as hard and as fast as he knows the both of you need. 

“Oh, don’t be a greedy little boy! Don’t you want to test how it feels to say it?” you tease him further, ready to push him to his breaking point. After all, that is what you’re always trying to do, get as far as it needs to make him go wild on you, barely coherent and entirely animalistic. 

“You want me to say it, don’t you?” he provokes you, feeling just how much the humiliation will further send you soaring over him. 

“I do,” you admit. 

He bites his lip and you look at him, you study the shape of his lips, the glint in his eyes, the dark shimmering of his lovely ebony locks, and the way his chest heaves with effort and arousal. “These tits own Jeon Jeongguk,” he speaks, his gaze piercing yours, holding you accountable for the undoing he knows will follow. 

“That’s right, isn’t it?” Your smile is sardonic, evilly pleased with his admission of submission, with him confirming, with conviction, that he is indeed entirely enslaved to his fascination for your chest, that he is so deeply enticed by it that just a silly part of you can guarantee you his unflinching devotion. 

“You know it’s right,” he grunts as your movements resume. And at this point, he knows this is going to take a while, and it will most surely turn out vicious. 

“Just checking in on you, making sure you haven’t found a better pair—”

“Don’t you dare talk to them like this. Not in front of me,” he hisses with a passion, and you chuckle at how chivalrously he defends your breasts from your own ill assumptions. 

“That’s so gallant of you,” you reply, your hands pulling his hair back, your tone fond and just vaguely lined with mocking. “Let them repay you for your kindness,” you suggest, as you start crawling down his body, your breasts landing heavily on his lap. 

“Really…?” he asks, first distracted and then extremely alert as he connects the dots. “With my boxers on?” He says with a frown. 

You shrug and smirk. “Maybe we’ll get rid of them later…” You sprinkle some kisses on his abdomen, your chest dragging against his sensitive parts. 

He frowns at the weight of them, so welcome, and yet deceiving as the fabric is hindering him from fully enjoying the act. “Please, off,” he huffs, tutting and fussing a little, but you decide to reward his patience with your nails tracing patterns against his chest, your fingertips drawing his areolae, your eyes hungry on his lost, bewildered state. 

“Not yet, love… Be patient with me,” you reassure him, tracing the rift in between the crests of his hips, one side, then the others, ricocheting between the bones on the two sides. “I’m going to make it so good to you,” you promise him, placing kisses all around the underrated perfection of his belly button — a huge ‘fuck you’ to the people salivating over him and never, ever knowing how such a minuscule inch of his body has you so irreversibly whipped. 

“Candy… Mh, love—” His voice has grown unbearably raspy and airy, so light it feels almost incorporeal, if it weren’t for the velvet smoothness of his skin underneath your lips, like marble that has finally received the breath of life, your boy an ineffable Galatea. 

“If you knew, Guk, if only—” kiss— “you knew—” kiss— “how sexy, and erotic, and exciting and poetic you look right now, baby. You look like art.” 

“Lemme touch you, I need you, I need—” he gasps and you’re almost expecting him to release a groan before he comes, way too early, much earlier than planned. But fortunately he doesn’t, he holds back stoically and cants his hips away. “For fuck’s sake,” he whispers, an arm covering his eyes. “I need a second if you need me to hold back.”

“Oh,” you reply in surprise, lifting yourself off him. “Are you alright?”

“Just give me some quiet for a second, Candy, don’t you dare even speak.” Jeongguk’s chest is rising and falling in wide movements, enticing and captivating.

Finally he removes his arm from his eyes, but he barely makes eye contact. 

“Guk?” You ask, worried. 

“Just— I’m trying to keep it cool here, love.” He wiggles his body a little, trying to get his boxers to fit a bit less tightly around him. “We should be smarter about this, you know?” His hands clench as he stops himself from reaching for you. “We should get a cockring for next time.”

You ogle him, then smile excitedly. “Really?” you chirp.

“Totally,” he concedes. He smiles even bigger at your smile. “Don’t tell me you bought one already.”

“Uhm… No,” you admit with a pout. 

“Dammit. It would have been weird, but I wouldn’t even have complained about it since it would pretty much save my ass right now.” He licks his lips, stares at you some more, and he groans and throws his head back at the renewed flare of arousal after he’d just managed to tone it down a notch. 

“I’m so sorry, bunny.”

“I’m alright,” he admits, his tone defeated. 

“Is this the right moment to suggest I ride your face?” you say, your grin now sardonic, almost drunk on him and the sight of his body shutting down for you, malfunctioning at the mere touch of you. 

He stares at you, wide eyed, nodding energetically, like a kid being asked if they want to visit Disneyland. “Guess it took a half naked commercial to get you to finally ask for it like you own it.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Careful or I can keep going with torturing you. I’m liking it anyway.”

“No no no, come over here,” he says with a stern and determined expression on his face, his hands reaching for the back of your thighs. “I’ve been waiting. Get comfy,” he encourages you, and after some manoeuvring you settle on top of him. 

He nods to himself, his nose nuzzling against the crotch of your panties, his mouth opening so he can feel your heat with his tongue, trying to get as close as possible.

Unsatisfied, his fingers reach to slip your panties to the side, but you slap at his hand. 

“Nope. You wanted the Calvin’s, and we’re keeping the Calvin’s,” you scold him. 

He frowns. “No, you were the one wanting them,” he argues. “Keep them on, you said.”

“Whatever.” You arch an eyebrow at him, but you also know he’s right and this decision has come to bite you in the ass. “Imagine how good it will feel once we take them off… And it feels a bit kinky to keep them on. Like… Like we’re having a quickie and everyone out there is waiting for model Jeongguk to come out anytime now, but once he does, well, he looks freshly fucked and everyone can’t stop talking about it— Oh, that!” you moan, your musings interrupted by Jeongguk trying to get bits of you in his mouth. 

You’re thankful for the brazilian cut panties giving him plenty of stuff to work with even with the underwear still on. 

“Stop me if it’s lewd but, dammit, I love the smell of you.” He drags his face side to side, basking in the damp, salty scent of your arousal. “I don’t even know what it is about it, but I like it so much.” 

“Keep doing whatever you’re doing,” you comment, your voice breathy. 

“Do you want me to keep talking?” he asks, and you just rub yourself against his chin, his mouth, and his words come out muffled. At some point you think you might have hurt his nose, so you ease the pressure a little, but he grabs handfuls of your butt and keeps you snug to his face, parts his lips wider as if he were really trying to eat you. 

He parts from his designed heaven only long enough to announce, “I’m pushing ‘em to the side, fuck it.” And you’re barely coherent, and he’s speaking with that intimate lisp of his, his accent heavy, like he can’t pay too much attention to words anyway. 

You don’t oppose. 

In seconds, his tongue is tipping inside you, slippery, and so hot, and you moan without even noticing it. Everything is soaked, his chest is covered in perspiration, and so are your thighs. 

You dare look down, and his eyes are closed as he is filling all his other senses with the sensation of you.

You bask in the sight of him, one forearm draped against the headboard of the bed, your other hand reaching down, to his fluffy hair currently tickling your inner thigh. You grab it, careful to be right between gentle and aggressive, in that way he finds so pleasant and sexy. 

He opens his eyes suddenly, and the moment he finds your eyes already connected with his face, he finds himself more eager to give you just what you need to plunge into oblivion. 

He gives you lush, slow licks, from your centre to your most sensitive spot, he takes his time, and moves into more sinuous motions, drawing curve after curve on his way up. He is unrushed, patient, and eloquent. He is luxuriant, explorative, curious. 

He loves what he’s doing, and he loves you and he’s showing it, top to bottom, and all the way up again. 

“Guk,” you breathe out, and it’s almost a hiccup.

“Yes, I know,” he murmurs against the bend of your inner thigh, right at the fold to your crotch. It’s so private, so sacred. It’s heartbreakingly yours and his and no one else’s. You’re in a shared space where nobody else can tell what you and him know. 

“Please,” you manage to say. 

He rearranges his arm so he can move two fingers along the seam between your legs, and then they’re inside, and he’s moving them right, rubbing them against the back wall of your entrance. 

As you tip your body forward, he moans with his mouth to your clitoris, happy with the new angle, and once you start grinding against him, climbing your way to your climax, he doesn’t stop, he doesn’t go faster, he doesn’t add pressure. He does not change one single thing, and you’re so grateful for the way he has come to understand you, your body, your tells. 

“Just right,” you encourage him. “You’re so damn perfect, love— Oh, there.”

That’s the last thing you can remember saying before he sets you off like fireworks. You don’t take much into consideration after that. All is fair, unless he’s holding you back. 

You grind, hump, moan, thrash just a little as you get too sensitive and fold in two, your forehead pressed to your wrist on the headboard 

as you shake your head ‘no’ but can’t bring yourself to stop from feeling everything he wants you to take. 

When you manage to recover, you whisper, “Okay, gimme a second.” And you try to unstraddle his face, but he holds you there, and simply avoids touching your sensitive parts, removing his fingers from inside you. 

“Are you alright, Candy?”

You nod and take some large breaths. 

He moves your panties back in place, then kisses your mound softly, affectionate, innocent even. 

“Can I do anything for you now, love?” He asks with a reverent, caring note in his voice. 

You shake your head, still recovering. “Can I lay on top of you?” 

“Sure thing,” he says, unlatching from you and leaving some room for you to realign with him, face to face, torso to torso, hip to hip, calf to calf. 

He’s still hard as marble, and the gentle grind of your pelvis against his causes him to groan softly. 

You press your lips to his to distract him. 

The jeans jacket you’re still wearing gives him something to ground himself, his focus aimed entirely at the feeling of the fabric underneath his fingers instead of the humid warmth of your crotch pressed against his. 

Just then, you bring your heels underneath your ass, rising to your knees as you swiftly remove your upper garment. 

The way his focus moves immediately to your breasts makes you cackle a little, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it. 

“Candy, you’ll have to get that tattooed.”

“Nah, too dangerous. They might tell on you.”

He frowns. “You’re right,” he still agrees. Too dangerous. You’re dangerous to him too, and there are not many chances of him keeping some form of dignity if he could at any time see a tattoo calling him out for his undying liaison with your chest. 

He catches your wrists, making you lose your balance so that your torso collapses onto his. And he keeps you there, wraps you up in his arms. 

“Still jealous, love?” he asks you. 

“More than ever,” you admit, and you look into his eyes, recognising the feeling pooling in them. 

“I'm only yours,” he swears, kissing the side of your head, whatever he can reach, and it's so tender, so innocent, so magical. “What can I do for you?” he whispers, flirting with you. 

You wrap your hands around his forearms and bring them up above his head. “No. I want to do things for you.”

You press your lips to his gingerly, then start to kiss down, tracking his throat and moving further downwards, to his chest, stopping where his heart thumps against the petals of your lips.

“Beats so hard for me,” you comment lightly. “Do I make your heart race, love?” 

“You do, Candy,” his reply is strained, as if it hurt to speak at that moment. 

“But I—” You let your nails tickle the flat of his waist, the elastic band around his hips— “I also make your dick hard, don't I?” 

He moans eloquently, then chuckles at your teasing. “You so do,” he admits, embarrassed but also excited, and so so thankful for having found you. 

You grab the waistband of his underwear with your teeth, letting it slap against his skin with a dry snap. “Grab a pen from your bedside, will you?”

You look up just in time to catch his eyes flickering open, his expression coming to life slowly. “What?” he asks, confused. 

“A pen, from your drawer,” you repeat. 

“Oh.” He had been too unfocused and he hadn’t realised you were talking to him, as if the words were just sound with no meaning; however, now he’s paid attention, so he stretches to the side, exposing the slender twist of his waist to your reverent mouth. You kiss him there, his body contracting as your lips attack his ticklish spot. 

“You’re a menace,” he complains, giving you the side eye, but also offering you a boyish, loving smirk. 

“And yet, you love me.”

“You’re lucky,” he says, right before you nip at his skin in reprimand. “Okay, I am the lucky one,” he concedes, returning to you with a pen in his hand. “You want this one?” he asks.

You nod and stretch for it, then peck the mole beside his navel and make your way down. 

His underwear by now is bitterly persona non grata, still you make yourself okay with it and simply move the elastic down, exposing his hipbone more fully. 

“What you gonna do?” he muses, propping himself up and staring at you bent over his pelvis. You look at him and prepare the pen, staring in his eyes as you suck at your bottom lip, torturing it a little as you think. 

“Are you gonna mark me? Sign me up?” he asks, a mocking grin on his face. 

You move the pen away and loll your tongue out, drawing a thick stripe following the shape of him in his boxers. 

He immediately drops his cocky act and arches up, sensitive, holding on barely. 

“You think you’re so smart, huh?” you scold him provokingly. “Remember where this is all coming from,” you remind him threateningly. 

He gasps as your mouth sucks his tip through the fabric, your nails tracing the indentations of his quads. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “You’ve got me.”

You nod to yourself. “I do,” you say, patronising just in the slightest. And because you can you rise, remove yourself from the way, and pull at his hipbone, trying to flip him around. 

He’s alarmed, but he follows your lead. You straddle the back of his thighs, bend down, and move his underwear down, the elastic stuck under the fold of his ass, further emphasising it. It looks plump and delicious, and for a moment you’re caught admiring him. 

He’s twisting his neck to try and see what you’re doing, filled with wonder at the way your hair tumbles over, and he’s mesmerised by the shine of it, the softness of the tips, like a brush, whispering at his skin.

You pick the right spot, then settle down, folded over his glute. His skin is hot against your touch and when you finally bring the pen to his flesh, you hope it won’t fail, despite the perspiration and the soft surface. 

Shamelessly, you draw the words like an inscription on a stone. 

Poetic, and dirty. Just the way you like it. However, you don’t give him the benefit of knowledge. 

You lean back, watch your little handywork with a surging of pride and love and confidence. You smack it, just because you can, not hard, not soft either, just sweet enough that it doesn’t feel like a violation doing it without asking his permission first. 

His muscles squeeze, and his breath catches. 

Because I can, your brain keeps telling you, over and over, like a mantra. You’re allowed to. He’s yours and you’re the only one allowed to. 

“You’re getting confident with this,” he comments, and suddenly your eyes are meeting. 

He looks like something you would paint. Something you would dream of, and then wake up and sketch down in the middle of the night, caught by some sort of frenzy, some urgency mixed with an impending fear of forgetting, of losing it. Losing him. 

“I’m gonna draw you.”

He doesn’t connect the words for a bunch of seconds. Not until you’re standing up and running out of the room and he asks himself, why, why the fuck is she leaving?

“Candy?” he calls, unsure. 

He tries to see what in the world you’ve written on his ass, but you’re making your way back in the room, tablet in hand, and your steps are bouncy and your tits follow the movement so his attention is divided. 

“What— Where—?” He’s confused. 

And then you’re perched on the armchair at the corner of the room, and the light from your tablet reflects on your face, and you look spirited, caught by some urgency he can’t quite find a name for. 

“Candy, for the love of—”

“Just a bunch of minutes. A quick sketch, no more.”

He’s been patient. He’s been understanding. He’s let you tease him, and he’s let you touch him, lick him, suck him. He still has your taste all over his face and chin and he still feels the phantom touch of your breasts against his crotch and all he wants is to feel you on him, around him, against him. 

“Please,” he whines. 

“Just a minute.”

He swells. Frowns. Thrusts his hips against the mattress. 

“Almost—” you say, drawing a couple more lines. 

You’re in his arms next. “Put that down, Candy.” His face is right above yours and he’s carrying you bridal style. “Put it down,” he repeats. 

You're very still. He's looking at your quick sketch, at the way it was all a rough frame and some basic lines. “You're gonna post that? Share it as some fanart instead of a live portrait?” He throws you on the bed and you clutch your tablet harder, trying to save it from any damage. He's on top of you next, grabbing the device and moving it to his drawer before he returns upon you, blocking your wrists above your head. 

“Are you maybe going to draw it faceless, so you can sell it as a picture, to decorate somebody's house?” He bends to your ear and nips at the side of your neck. “Let my ass hang naked on someone else's wall?” 

You feel overwhelmed and surprised by his counterattack, not really knowing how to react. 

He drags his body against yours, stealing a whimper from your lips. “I think you enjoyed topping a little too much tonight.” He flips you onto your front next, and you find yourself only mildly embarrassed that he's made only one tenth of the effort it had taken you to flip him. 

He slaps your ass, and it is nowhere as playful or light as the spank you'd given him. It is his turn to grab the pen. 

“Let's see if you can walk the talk, Candy. If you like the taste of your own medicine,” he muses, and he bites your ass cheek, bending over to start writing, but accidentally finding himself unable to resist the urge to sink his teeth in your plush flesh. 

“Since I'm not a selfish asshole, I'm gonna tell you what I'm writing. Here we go, 'This ass likes spankings from Jeon Jeongguk'. What do you say? Is it true?” 

You're panting, wiggling in his hold, trying anything to see the possessed look on his face. “It's true,” you admit, breathless. 

He smirks and lands one more hit on your ass. “Damn right it is,” he says confidently. 

He tugs your underwear off harshly, almost angry. 

Soon he's naked, and so are you, and he's slipping inside you while you're still on your front, your hips arched all the way up, cupped by his hands. “Let's make this fuck more fun than your drawing, huh?” 

And when he starts, goodness, you want him to never, ever stop. 

He's ruthless, and he only asks if you're alright once, after three strokes. After that, all's fair, and he's ramming inside you in a way that makes you gasp and arch further, trying to get him even deeper, to an even better angle. 

You can't really look at him, since you'd risk a kink in your neck, but he doesn't care. He only cares about his handwriting on your ass, and his name on it. He only cares about the way you're gasping his name, and sometimes, when he slams in at the right moment, the impact causes too much of your breath to come out, so the whispered begging gets punctuated by moaned-out, hiccuped syllables. 

He smacks your ass a few more times, his hand tingling, but the spanks seem to make you happy, so he doesn't stop, and he doesn't complain either. 

“You're jealous of me, Candy,” he manages to speak, slowing down just enough so he has more of your attention. “Do you have any idea how jealous I am of you? How hard it is to feel like you want to own me half as much as I want to be yours?” He's on his knees behind you, and his thrusts grow more patient, more luscious. Richer and fuller. “Sometimes I'm scared you'll leave me, and someone else will get to have all the wonderful sex I get to have with you. Someone else will get to see your face first thing in the morning, and become a character in your cartoons, and talk about you with their granny, and bring you home for New Year's.” His face collapses close to your shoulder. “What will I do with myself, then?” 

You turn your face and you finally get to see him. “Flip me around,” you order him, but your voice is fond. “I want to look you in the eyes while you fuck me like no one else has ever.” 

His hair is fuzzy with his perspiration, and his face glistens with a light sheen of sweat. “Sure?” he asks, in confirmation. 

“I'm sure,” you comfort him. 

He's only happy once you're below him, and he's on top of you, inside you. 

You clench around him, and he frowns deeply, trying to control himself. Still, he gives a sharp jab with his hips, and it steals your breath. 

“Like that,” you praise him. “I want you to fuck me like that. Like no one else can.” 

His eyes stay wide open, stubbornly nailed to yours as he starts moving. It's hard and slow, and it makes you see stars. 

“Do you still feel like drawing?” he provokes you, “Or am I fucking you good enough?” 

You hiss and bite his arm, both to keep him humble, but also, again, because you can — and nobody else does. 

“Maybe I could get on top of you so you can watch my tits bounce, and maybe that will make you want to draw,” you bite back, and next thing you know you're both sat up, you're on his lap and he's bouncing you on his dick. 

“Definitely feeling inspired right now,” he concedes. “Maybe I should stop and paint them.” 

You push him down and he's finally with his back to the mattress, you on top. “Or maybe you could shut your mouth and get busy so I can cum.” 

The slap lands almost immediately on your ass. “Dirty mouth. And a fucking divine cunt,” he speaks through gritted teeth. 

He lets you lead for about thirty seconds, during which he stays occupied with your boobs, grabbing them, slapping them, pinching your nipples, and then he grabs your hips and stills them. 

“Touch yourself,” he orders your roughly before he starts fucking up from below you. 

It escalates quickly from there, and in less than a minute you're gone, collapsing forward, against him, and he's so thankful because he's coming too and your kegels are squeezing him just right, and he only manages to say “fucking yours” before he abandons all his inhibitions and loses himself inside you. 

You come back to reality only, and you find yourself tucked in his embrace, his body above yours. You don’t know when he flipped the two of you over, but you like his weight on top of you. 

“Hey,” you murmur, combing his hair away from his face. 

His expression is lazy and satisfied. 

Well done, you tell yourself, almost giving a pat to your own shoulder. He looks fantastically fucked, deliciously edible and perfectly yours. 

“Hey you,” he replies, with the most heavenly, blissful grin on his face. No, too tired to be a grin, more like a glowy smile. It’s not fully on, it looks like those battery-operated lights when they’re almost out of energy, a bit faded, or maybe pale. Faint, feeble, dim. Soft. Muted. If his bunny smiles were jewel tones, this was the most delicate pastel pink. A powder baby blue, almost robin egg blue. 

You want to wrap yourself in the hazy glow radiating from him, gentle as a sunny dawn in late May. 

“So glad you got those Calvin’s,” you joke, and there it is, bunny grin, ten million watts. Apparently that makes his battery die because his head collapses to your neck and he doesn’t seem willing or ready to lift himself back up. 

“So glad I made you jealous. But also sorry,” he says, truly apologetic. “I’m happy we did this. I’m happy I saw you like this.” 

His lips tickle the side of your neck, and you squirm a little, but you try not to move too much. You want to be comfortable for him to rest on. You want him to stay like that on top of you forever. “I’m still maddish. But I think I can deal with it.”

“There’s more pictures coming,” he says tentatively, and he makes the effort to pick up his head to give you a helpless look, trying to protect himself already by giving you the sweetest pair of puppy eyes he’s ever used on anyone. 

“Oh, I’m totally getting your ass branded,” you reply, saccharine. “I was thinking I could make those ribbons, like the ones the police use, except I put my name on it and I wrap it all around your chest, so they can’t drool all over your abs.”

He laughs, and the sound is boyish and playful, and lovely. You fall in love a tiny bit more. 

“Can I see the pictures in advance?”

He hums as he thinks about it for three seconds, except he already knows how he wants to play it. “Mh…” he says some more, keeping you on your toes. “No.” He looks up, testing you. “But let’s say I hope you get that cockring ready.”

You pull your head back, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’re not naked in your Calvin’s, right?”

He grins, gives you a devilish wink. “Maybe.”

You grab his cheeks and squeeze his face and he laughs so hard you can’t be possibly mad at him for even a nanosecond. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“And your tits will be it for me,” he flirts back. 

You shake your head. “Brat.”

And he kisses you. Just that. 

Before he hits the shower the following morning, Jeongguk inspects the damage you’ve done on him. 

He’s quite happy with it. A very faint bruise on his neck. A red splotch on his abs, and another on his hip, but nothing that won’t fade within one or two days. He knows you know the drill by now. 

He turns around to inspect his back, and he’s okay with it, nothing that will get him in trouble in case he needs to be shirtless or generically undressed around staff members. He drops his underwear and it’s only once he’s making his way to the shower that he notices something strange on his asscheek. 

Oh, fuck. Suddenly reminded of your little handiwork with the pen the night before, he bends to the side, trying to get a better view at his ass. 

He finds himself wobbling side to side, like a silly puppy chasing his tail, and that is exactly the way you find him when you enter the bathroom. 

A laugh bubbles out of you and you smack his butt playfully. “Do you need help with that?” you ask, cheery. 

“No,” he bites back, but he has the most innocent, pouty look on his face, and he is having fun a little. “Maybe,” he concedes, his voice young. 

You wrap your arms around him and rise to your toes, propping your chin on his shoulder as you hug him from behind. “I wrote, ‘Candy’s babyboy’.”

His ears go red, just the tiniest bit. “Really?” His expression is so sweet. 

“Really,” you confirm, confident, serious, and loving. 

“You’re not making fun of me,” he asks, vulnerably. 

“I promise I’m really, really not, Guk.” You kiss his shoulder. “You’re my babyboy. And my sexy man. And just mine, generally speaking.”

He nods, a happy, fulfilled look on his face. “Right.” He’s once more confident. Entirely adult. 

“Love you,” you reassure him again, and then you kiss his shoulder, again. 

He grins. There he is, your boy. “Love you too.”

Hi it's Dita, the writer, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment to keep this poor gremlin fanfic writer motivated. Bye and I LOVE YOU!!!

[back2bluesidex]

Fool's Gold - JHS

Pairing: Idol!Hoseok X Staff!Reader

Theme: Angst, Unrequited love au

Wordcount: 865

Summary: Falling for Jung Hoseok is.. Fool's Gold.

Warnings: Angst, unrequited love, loving somebody who can't be yours. That's all.

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: I promise I had absolutely no plan of writing this one. But Hoseok came home and made me an emotional puddle. so I had to get things off of my chest.

Your eyes find him readily across the room as if those were made to spot him in a room full of blood and flesh. 

He shines. 

Just as always, Jung Hoseok shines the brightest, dimming everyone’s aura completely. 

Your grip on the camera goes tight as he smiles fully at Namjoon, who seems to say something pleasant in his ears. 

He doesn't see you. He obviously does not. Why would he? 

While he is the main focus of everyone’s attention, everyone is proud of him for showing excellence in the military just as he did in Bangtan… You are nothing more than a lowly photo and videographer. You are someone who runs behind them to document their every possible move with a stupid inanimate device in your hands. 

Just as today. 

There are times when you hate your job, especially because it lacks the hierarchy and authority that you would like to have in order to shut some mouths. 

But on days like these… you love it. 

If it’s not for the nature of your job then you would not be allowed to enter this dining room of your company to capture Hoseok and his members having dinner with some of the most important people of Hybe.  

If it’s not for your job then you wouldn’t have the fortune of witnessing Hoseok being more beautiful than you can ever remember. His cheeks are fuller, lips plumper, shoulders broader, chest buffer but his eyes… His eyes carry the same kind gaze, same warmth, same twinkle that made you fall for him long ago. 

Your chest tightens when he looks away from Namjoon, attempting to reply something to Jimin, and his eyes fall on your figure, awkwardly standing at the door. 

Then he smiles at you. 

And your world seems to start dancing in the rhythm of destruction. You feel high and low at the same time. You feel happy and sad all at once. 

He still looks at you, he still smiles at you but not the way you want. And it will never be the way you want. 

“Hey, Y/N! How have you been?” he chimes in. his voice sounds like honey in your ears. You find yourself smiling automatically. 

“Just getting by. What about you?” You ask softly. I miss you, the forbidden words linger on the tip of your tongue but you know you can’t say it. You won’t dare to. 

“Doing better than I thought. Why-” Hoseok gets cut off as one the managers start speaking. 

“Okay everyone. Let’s sit straight for a moment so that Y/N can click a picture and leave. It’s getting late, she needs to wrap it up.” 

And that’s your cue to leave. No matter how sugarcoated the words are, those translate to “do your work and leave. It’s not the place you belong.” 

So you do as you are told. 

After clicking five pictures and checking if everything’s alright, you take one last look at Hoseok only to find him smiling kindly at you. 

You bow a little as you get ready to leave. You can’t even wave him goodbye without making yourself look like a desperate staff trying to throw herself at an idol. Sucking in a deep breath along with all the pain and heartbreak your unrequited love has brought forth, you leave. 

You are halfway through the corridor when you hear your name being called from behind. 

Fuck! It’s Hoseok. 

When you turn around, he is already quite close to your form. So much so that you have to take a step back to maintain a staff-idol distance. 

“Hoseok..” you mutter. 

He lifts up a box, which you assume to be full of macarons. 

Wiggling it in front of your face he says, “You love macarons, don’t you? I remember you gobbling these during our snack times.” he laughs a little and your heart fills with liquid emotions ready to spill out of your eyes. 

“I picked some up for everyone on my way here. Take it.” he takes hold of your free hand and transfers the box into your grasp. 

“Th-Thanks.” the words choke on your mouth. You feel like screaming at the top of your lungs and tell him that you love him, tell him that you have been missing him. But again, you can’t.

“No need. Enjoy the weekend.” he places his palm flat on your shoulder and sets your skin on fire, heart in erratic motion.     

“Yes, you too.” you manage to voice out.

And then within a blink he is gone. 

You see him running back in the room just where he belongs, as you stand there in the corridor, just where you belong.

As soon as his body disappears from your view, your eyes get blurry and tears run down your cheeks. You are, once again, aware of the difference that persists between you and Hoseok. Two of your worlds can never collide. He can never be yours even when you have been his, only his, for a long time. 

You knew it all but you still let yourself fall for him and you don’t regret it. 

Because falling for Jung Hoseok is.. Fool’s Gold.  

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae

[hellfiremunsonn]

Stuck With Me. Eddie Munson x Reader

AN: At the end of each chapter will be a picture of ‘your’ Journal. Photos, and writing of a little bit from each chapter. 

(THIS IS A REUPLOAD ALL CHAPTERS WILL BE RE UPLOADED ONE BY ONE)

I do not allow my writing to be republished anywhere other than my own blog without my consent.

WARNINGS: Nothing serious I don’t think in this first chapter.

WORDCOUNT: 2k

Chapter 1: I Made Pasta

It’s 6:35pm when you finally make it through the threshold of your shared apartment with your best friend Robin. After a terribly long shift at a coffee shop just down the road you could barely make it three steps before dropping all of your belongings and laying flat on your back on the cold hardwood floor.

Soft music from the radio in the living room echoed around and you could smell something with garlic cooking. Bare feet thumping loudly down the hallway; stopping only a few millimetres from your head. You opened one eye, squinting the other while looking up and an upside down robin. Her hair a curtain around her face. 

“You didn’t even make it to the carpet today” She said, voice soft with sympathy. 

You groaned and closed your eyes again, pushing out your bottom lip in a hefty pout. 

“I’m making pasta, do you want any?” she asked, her footsteps retreating into the kitchen.

“Please?” you said finally sitting up off the floor. You hated complaining about working at the coffee shop because if you were being honest to anyone other than yourself, you were really lucky to have it, and really lucky to actually like the people you worked with. The past retail jobs you had with snotty coworkers, and middle-aged women forming cliques; the coffee shop was a breath of fresh air in comparison. It was just always hard. Being too nice for your own good and often got taken advantage of which leads you to constantly be overworking, and so sometimes, coming home and laying on the floor is the only thing you can manage for about twenty minutes. Ten if robins cooked something. 

You and Robin have lived together for about two years now, but you’ve known her for three. You met at some shitty bar with a bunch of college kids you didn’t know and ending up sticking together and getting high in the girls bathroom. You fell in love with who she was instantly. The way she talked so quickly and passionately, her thoughts tumbling out her mouth before she could even process them. The insane amount of knowledge her brain could hold, constantly blurting facts about almost anything, being able to keep them all within relevance of the conversation was something you almost envied. She had this really good friend Steve. Steve Harrington; they had apparently gone to school together but when they showed you old pictures of them you would have never imagined them ending up as friends. They became close after working together at some ice cream shop in a mall back in their old town that apparently burnt down, and they kind of trauma bonded from that. 

Steve was funny and quick witted, often called you out on your own bullshit before you even saw it. He was a delight to be around honestly and if you and Robin had an extra room you know he’d stay here. His parents are rich apparently, but he was quite adamant about paying for his own shitty apartment instead of having his parents rent out one of the nicer ones down town. He stayed down there most days. 

There was another kid who came around every once in a while; Dustin… something. You could never remember his last name, but Steve looked after him like he was his younger brother. Dustin was also from Hawkins along with the other two, and it was sweet knowing they all kept in touch as often as they did seeing as they were so far from their home town, and all grown up. 

You was jealous sometimes. Jealous of the life they had before, and the friendships they kept. You never had the opportunity to stay anywhere for very long. You lived with your aunt Jean, and money was hard for her. She adopted you after your mom died when you were six, even though she already had four kids of her own that she was raising. It was hard raising us as a single parent, and her kids didn’t exactly like you.

So with Jean often unable to pay rent, you moved from place to place every couple years. It gets tiring being the new kid, so when you turned eighteen you moved out here you decided to stay as long as you could; and every year you’ve been here since Robin has made it worth it. (Although you would never hold it against her, you do miss her when she goes back to Hawkins for the holidays to visit her parents) 

Those first couple of years on your own were terrible until you met that chatter box of a woman named Robin. 

Finally lifting yourself off of the floor you walked towards your room, putting your things away and ridding yourself of your old work clothes. Dropping them to the floor you searched through your dresser pulling out a pair of pyjama pants and an old baggy Metallica shirt. You never wore it out in public because their music wasn’t exactly your thing, but Robin had given it to you; saying it was an old friends and she didn’t want to keep it but felt guilty if she threw it away or donated it. So naturally you took it in happily. It was too comfy to throw away, so it became a regular sleep shirt. 

Sliding your way back into the kitchen Robin was placing two bowls of pasta onto the counter. Grabbing both you brought them over to your little rounded kitchen table that you stuck in the corner. It was a tight squeeze but you made it work. “Have I ever told you that I love you?” you said to her with a mouthful of noodles. 

She laughed and slid into the seat across from you, placing two graciously full glasses of white wine. “Once or twice, usually not through a mouthful of food, but still meaningful nonetheless” she quipped. “I am a really good cook though” She admitted. 

“You are, I don’t know why Steve is always so shocked about it" 

“Because I could barely make toast without setting something on fire when I was in high school" 

"I just find that so hard to believe” You said. “I always picture you as this person” you gesture towards her. “Just maybe a little smaller, and maybe more shy”

“Oh I’m still shy” she pointed at you with her fork; half a noodle dangling from it.

“I know, I’ve seen the way you talk to women remember?” You laughed. “You’ve gotten better though, and you’re back together with vickie right? That’s gotta be good for something”

“Yeah I guess” Sighing she poked around her bowl.

“Trouble in paradise?” You ask while raising an eyebrow. 

She rolled her eyes at the cliche phrase. “I don’t know, I think I’m just worried that maybe the break wasn’t enough for her and that she’ll realize I’m not that great and she can do better, even though I personally think were perfect for each other, I mean we literally fit together like a puzzle piece, and I don’t know how or why but we do and I-’

"Robin” You say cutting her off. “Sometimes taking a break is really beneficial for bother parties you know? Distance makes the heart grow fonder or some shit; whatever that saying is, anyways” You said swirling your hand in the air. “If vickie doesn’t see how fucking incredible you are, even now after the break, or even when she locked eyes on you for the first time, then she isn’t worth it…” You paused. “I know it’s not exactly what you want to hear, but you are more and you deserve more”

She looked up at you, eyes  bleary with tears. Smiling she wiped at her eyes, a small chuckle escaping her. “You really are the best of best friends a girl could ask for” Her eyes widened at her words. “Don’t tell Steve I said that, he might have a mental breakdown”

“Oh I’m absolutely telling Steve you just said I was the bestest of best friends. I need to rub it in that little twerps face” You said grinning. 

“Oh!” She exclaimed. “I told Steve we would go back with him to Hawkins on Friday for the week, because I know you’re off work, and I can take my work with me anywhere really, and Steve said that the gang really wanted to get together for the Corroded Coffin show at the bar, and I couldn’t exactly say no so” she stopped to take a deep breath. “You’re gunna see the lovely little shit hole that is Hawkins Indiana” She smiled brightly in anticipation. 

You really didn’t want to spend two hours in a car to go visit a town you had never been to, to see a band you had never heard of, but you couldn’t deny the curiosity you had to finally being able to see Robins home town.

“Friday?” You asked and she nodded. 

“But that’s tomorrow" 

She bit her lip and gave you a pleading smile. And when your best friend gives you that ‘please do this for me I need you there and I made you noodles’ look. You just can’t say no.

"Fine” you groan. “But we’re taking my car, Steve can drive himself, I’m not getting stuck in the backseat with you and your stinky feet again" 

"That was one time!” she argued. 

“One time too many if you ask me” you fake annoyance.

“Also thank you, I really appreciate you coming… I didn’t want to see Vickie for the first time since the break alone, and Steve isn’t the best wingman”

“I’d kill a man for you” you said taking another mouthful of noodles. “Just give me the word baby”

“God no wonder Steve always thinks we’re secretly dating with the amount of flirting we do” she said shaking her head. 

“Hey if you don’t flirt with your best friend then what’s the point in even having a best friend?”

“I don’t flirt with Steve” She pointed.

“Yeah cause you’re a lesbian Robin”

She shrugged in agreement and you both went back to eating your pasta. 

Around 9pm you decided to head into your room to start packing your small suitcase. Robin said to pack something for every possible scenario, including the bad ones. Whatever that means.

It was mid July so you decided on half the clothes being okay for hot weather, and half of them being for cold weather, with a few extra cozy options for good measure. You threw an all too new looking copy of The Lord Of The Rings, on top (Something you had been meaning to read for a while) and then fumbled around for toiletries. 

“Hair brush, hair ties, headband?” You questioned looking back at your dresser. It was covered in all types of jewelry and hair accessories mixed in with the endless amount of paint supplies. “Nah no headband” You decided. “toothbrush and toothpaste? I’m sure Robins parents have toothpaste…” You bit your lip. What if they were the type of people that just didn’t share toothpaste? “Whatever” You rolled your eyes.

Robin knocked lightly on the doorframe of your room. 

You give her a quick glance while continuing to move around your room. She crept in and sat with her legs crossed on your bed. “You’re talking out loud again” she said reaching over to grab one of your stuffed animals, cuddling it to her chest.

“Shit” you mumbled. “I really gotta stop doing that” An embarrassing habit when you were nervous. You even used to have to grit your teeth together to stop myself from looking like a crazy person when you were out in public, but at home, it didn’t really matter all too much if Robin heard you. After a few more minutes of shoving things into your suitcase you stood back to look at it, hands on your hips. “Do you think your parents will like me?” You say abruptly looking up at Robin. 

She raised a brow “Yeah probably, why?”

“I don’t know, I just don’t want them to think you’re living with some weirdo roommate" 

She laughed. "They already know who you are, they don’t think you’re weird. They have me as a daughter, their perception of weird is much different than any ‘normal’ humans”

“Yeah I guess you are a big weirdo huh?” You tease. 

“The best in the bizz” She said with a yawn. “Alright I’m gunna try to sleep, I’ll wake you up in the morning” Skipping out of your room and to her own she yelled a “Goodnight!” Before closing her door. 

You sighed looking at the time. Not feeling tired enough to sleep yet so you decided to journal a little bit to pass the time. Scribbling doodles and words all over the pages, adding as many stickers as you saw fit. It was one of your favourite pastimes because not only did you have your own words to look back on, to remember fond moments, you always slapped a couple of Polaroids onto the pages for extra nostalgia. The process of it all was calming, and often soothed any anxieties from the day whenever you got to sit down, and glue, and tape a bunch of stuff onto the lined paper. 

Finally deciding to crawl into bed before your week of 'vacation’ started. Wrapping your blanket tightly around you, shutting off all the lights except for one and closing your eyes. Naturally sleeping didn’t come easy, and you tossed and turned all night until around 12:30 am. You fell asleep sometime soon after that, adding another page to your journal in the process.

[smurphyse]

A Real Father's Love

Smurph's Masterlist

Oneshot

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single Mom!Reader

Wordcount: 3191

Warnings: breeding kink, choking, multiple creampies, dirty talk, blowjobs

Summary: A prompt from the lovely @simplyparker ! (Sorry it took so long my love) Spencer proves how much he wants to spend time with Reader's son, and it... sets something primal loose inside her.

You woke slowly, blinking tiredly as streams of sunshine danced along the walls. Spencer laid underneath you, your arm slung over his chest and your face in his neck.

His morning wood pressed against the inside of your thigh as it laid draped over him. His warm skin made you want to slip back into sleep once more, unbelievably comfortable and happy in his embrace. You thought your bed was soft, but nothing really compared to being here, on these sheets that smelled like him, in this place that seemed to seep Spencer from the walls. 

The sun broke through the curtains, bathing the dim room with streams of amber and purple from the daybreak. It was the beginning of April, the days were getting longer, rainier, the seasons changing to summer.

You and Spencer had been dating for a year, a fantastic one at that. You rarely got to spend too much alone time with him, as most of your time was spent taking care of your son, Milo. You were his only caregiver, as his father wasn’t in the picture.

Spencer had taken to him like white on rice, easily slipping into a hybrid form of step-fatherhood like it was his nature. You supposed it was, and you’d been nothing but grateful for the way he treated Milo.

He was soft and kind, happily teaching him anything he could from chess to magic to building those damned lego sets that always seemed to have a stray piece find its way under your feet early in the morning. Milo loved him dearly, and you had him nearly 24/7, so Spencer spent most of his time with you with him too.

Sometimes you worried how attached they had grown. If this didn't work out, you and Milo would be crushed, and the thought terrified you. 

“Mmm,” he grunted, pulling you close and kissing the top of your head firmly. “You’re really here.”

You smiled against him, turned your head enough to press your lips to his skin. You adjusted to lay on top of him and buried your head into his neck, “Not for long, I know I’m gonna freak out when I look around this place.”

Milo was spending a once in a blue moon night at a friend’s place so you and Spencer could enjoy your anniversary. Last night had been spent laughing and eating copious amounts of food at a beautiful restaurant, you watching Spencer watch you with glittering eyes and a full heart. 

You’d stumbled your way through the apartment, tripping over his messy space and making fun of him in between kisses. Spencer had hushed you, eventually picking you up and tossing you over his shoulder to carry you to his room.

His laugh grumbled in his chest, sleepy and exhausted, “I better take care of you one last time before you keel over, then.” 

Spencer tangled his fingers in your hair and twisted to push you onto your back. He pressed you into the mattress and kissed you slowly, languidly, with reverence and care. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as his weight settled on top of you. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him down against you, his cock hard and throbbing as it pushed against your wanting sex. You pulled up your night slip so you could maneuver easier, wanting nothing in the way of fucking Spencer in his own bed without the threat of a five year old bursting through the door.

His kisses became more insistent, his heavy frame pushing you down harder into the pillows. You frowned against his lips as you felt something hard underneath it, and Spencer pulled away with a frown of his own as you reached up and pulled a book out from under your head.

Magic For Beginners: A Guide to Sleight of Hand and Tricks for Kids

You laughed a bit as you read the title, the memory of his dorky quarter pull for your son resurfacing and making you fall in love with him all over again.

“Uhh,” he winced, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “I went to the bookstore with Luke… I don’t know, I just thought of Milo and how happy he looked when I did that trick the other day.”

You clutched the book to your chest and grinned up at him, “You got this for my son?”

Spencer blew a raspberry with his lips, his cheeks turning bright red as he looked away from you. You reached a hand up and brushed the backs of your knuckles along his cheek, making him turn back to face you with an embarrassed smile. 

“You… really want him to like you, don’t you?” you asked quietly. 

“Of course I do,” he laughed, like you were an idiot for thinking otherwise. “I want a future with you, sweetheart, and that means a future with him. I want that, I love you and him.”

You stared at him for a moment, taking in the earnestness on his sweet face. It hit you just then, that Spencer didn’t want to just be in Milo’s life… he wanted to be more, to be his father. 

Something primal took over you, skin turning to flame as it rocketed through your veins. 

Shoving at Spencer's chest and dropping the book on the floor, you pushed him onto his back and mounted him, the little surprised grunt that left him only spurring you on. Gripping his jaw tightly, you kissed him hungrily, reveling in the moan that erupted from his chest. 

You slipped your tongue into his mouth, licking every part of him that you could reach while his hands dug into your hips. You rolled your hips, grinding your unfortunately clothed pussy down on him and moaning. 

You left his lips, trailing wet kisses down his jaw as he moaned breathlessly above you. You nipped across his chest, taking time to pull his nipples between your teeth and sucking bruises into the tender flesh. 

"Sweetheart, what-," he started, cutting off when you grazed your nails down his sides as you went lower and lower with your kisses. 

You tugged at his waistband, tugging his pants off when he lifted his hips and tearing them away. He gasped as you took him into your mouth, no hesitation, no easing him into it, simply swallowing him down and hollowing your cheeks. 

"Oh fuck," Spencer grunted, his hands lacing into your hair as you sucked him off. He gasped and moaned above you, caught off guard by your insistence and taking control, but you needed him, needed him now. 

Your lace panties rubbed your dripping lips as you settled between his legs, back arching so he had the best view of you as you drove him quickly to the edge. His precum wet the back of your throat as you relaxed it to take all of him, every inch you could fit inside. 

Spit dripped down your chin as you pulled back to swirl his tip with your tongue, your cunt clenching in excitement with every moan, every curse word that left his beautiful mouth. You dipped back down, swallowing his cock and sucking every drop of precum that leaked from his throbbing length. 

"Shit, sweetheart, you're gonna make me cum," he muttered, his grip on your hair turning nearly painful as he tried to pull you off him. 

You swatted his hands to tell him you were in charge here, bobbing your head up and down while his dick twitched in your throat. He let go and clutched the sheets, letting you take control and do what you wanted with him. 

"You're so fucking beautiful," Spencer moaned, letting out a deep breath as you locked eyes, watching him fall apart. 

He bucked up into your mouth, seeing you suck him off and letting out a string of wanton moans and curses. You cupped his balls in your hand, pumping the length you couldn't fit inside your throat in time with your drooling sucking. 

Just as they began to tighten, you pulled off him, and he groaned in frustration. Spencer looked to you with betrayal, but you didn't care. You tugged off your slip and tore your panties from your waist, throwing them off the side of the bed and mounting him once more. 

His gaze raked up your naked form, eyebrows raised as you went back to kissing his neck and chest. 

"What has gotten into you?" he asked breathlessly, but you ignored him. Sitting up on your knees, you guided his head to your dripping lips.  

His head rocked back into the pillows as you sank down onto his length, groaning and grinding down on his cock as it stretched your achingly empty cunt. When your hips were flush against his, Spencer gripped your waist tightly. 

"I'm not gonna last very long after that," he whimpered pathetically, his chest heaving and littered with your marks. You dug your nails once more into his side, scratching with just enough force to leave red lines.

His back arched, his cock throbbing inside you as you kissed him sloppily, whispering against his lips, "Cum inside me, honey, fill me up." 

Sitting up on your knees, you lifted your hips and sunk back down onto him. Spencer cursed as you did it again and again, his blunt head slamming into your cervix and opening you up just like you needed.

Bracing your hand on his chest, you used him, holding him down as you rode him to oblivion. His cheeks turned red as he moaned and let go, clinging to your hips tightly. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Spencer groaned, his nails digging into your skin. "I'm gonna cum, shit, you're so fucking perfect! I can't-."

Spencer gasped as he came inside you, shooting thick ropes of cum and heat into your bare pussy. You never slowed, even as he began to whimper from overstimulation, pushing at your chest and heaving exhaustedly.

You grabbed his wrists and shoved them into the pillows by his head, clenching tightly around his softening cock and delighting in the way he whined. Leaning in close and brushing your nose with his, you whispered, "I'm not done."

His brows scrunched in confusion, "What are you trying to do, breed me?"

"That's exactly what I'm doing," you growled, and his eyebrows nearly hit his hairline. 

Spencer moaned as you ground your hips down. You sat up and cupped his balls behind you, using your other hand to brace yourself on his chest. His cum leaked out of you as he began to harden again, soaking his lower belly and your ass cheeks.

"Is that what you want?" Spencer asked darkly, thrusting up sharply into you. Cum oozed between you, and all you wanted was more of it. "You want me to fuck a baby into you? Huh? Make you big and swollen with a piece of me?"

You rode his cock again, moaning and arching your back. His palms smoothed up your curves, kneading your breasts and brushing your nipples with his thumbs. 

"How many more do you want?" he pressed, thrusting up into you as you dropped down on his dick again and again. 

You pressed your palms to his chest for balance, rolling your neck and engulfing yourself in the pleasure he was giving you. 

When you didn't answer, Spencer pinched your nipples harshly, making you yelp and clench your weeping pussy around him, "Tell me, sweetheart, now."

"As many as you're willing to give me!" you cried, your eyes fluttering drunkenly closed and living in the wet, hot feeling of him impaling you.

Spencer snarled and gripped your waist, flipping you over and pushing you into the mattress. He fucked you deep and hard, burying his face in your neck and moaning loudly in you ear. 

"I'll never stop, then," he said, baring his teeth and groaning with each long thrust. Your legs wrapped tightly around him to pull him deeper, opening yourself up for as much of him as you could take. "I'll fuck you until you swell, keep you all big and pregnant and reliant on me over and over again."

You whimpered and nodded, clutching him tightly to you as tears welled in your eyes. You were so close, so wanting to be filled and stuffed by him. 

"I'll do anything for you, I'll keep you safe," Spencer grunted, his skin slapping against yours amidst the squelch of his hard cock pushing his cum further inside you. "I'm gonna take care of you, sweetheart, take care of the kids, you're never gonna want anything else."

"I want that, Spence, please!" you begged, scratching your nails down his back, using your other hand to keep him buried in your shoulder. 

"Fuck," he snarled, his back arching as you dragged your nails along his skin. "I'm gonna take care of my little bitch in heat, I'm gonna give you everything you asked for."

Light shredded across your vision at his harsh words, his sweet promises. Your legs shook as your cervix opened for him, tears falling from your eyes as Spencer forced himself as far into your cunt as he could go and came. 

His seed flooded your womb, and even though this was just dirty talk and you were on birth control, you couldn't help but feel satisfied at how it would really feel to make a baby with Spencer Reid. 

You both panted as you came down, clinging to one another with shaking limbs. Spencer pressed hot, wet kisses into your neck, your sweaty skin helping him slide against you. 

You whined when he pulled out, your chest heaving with desperate tears, but he kissed them away and chuckled. 

"I'm not done, don't worry," he whispered, and suddenly you were filled with two thick fingers. Spencer's free hand wrapped around your throat and forced you to look at him. 

Gasping moans left you as he pushed his cum further inside, his lips ghosting against yours while he watched you darkly. 

"Such a good little cumdump, sweetheart," he murmured, curling his fingers inside you and watching as tears flowed freely down your cheeks. "You were made for this, you know? You were made to fill with my cum and cry. I love watching you cry…"

You hiccuped a little, swallowed against the palm across your neck, and you felt his cock brush against your thigh, hard again and ready to fill you once more. 

"You just need to be tied to this bed and filled every chance I get, don't you?" he asked quietly, sweetly, and you nodded with enthusiasm as he pumped his fingers into you. "I'll take care of you and you won't have to worry about anything else. That pretty little head only needs to think about taking cock and getting stuffed to the brim."

"Yeah," you whimpered happily, smiling tearfully at him and falling deeper in love. "Yeah Spence, you know what's best."

"Of course I do, baby," Spencer said, and he pulled his fingers from your oozing cunt, shoving them immediately into your mouth. 

You moaned as your eyes fluttered shut, focused only on sucking your juices and his spend from his fingers. You tasted the sweat, your pussy, his cock, listened to the squelch of your sex as you clenched around nothing. 

Spencer pushed back inside you, slipping easily inside and burying himself deeper than before. He warmed his cock with you as you drooled around his fingers, not caring about how sloppy or dumb you looked. It felt good, it felt right. 

"Oh my sweet little pussy," he chuckled quietly, slowly starting to thrust into you again. You moaned loudly around his digits, and Spencer pulled them out to cover your mouth with his palm, wetness coating your cheek. 

"Listen to that," he whispered darkly, watching your glazed-over eyes with a smirk. You did as you were told, your hearing focusing on the sloppy, squishing sounds of your filled cunt being fucked again by him. 

"That's one of my favorite things to hear, music to my fucking ears," Spencer grunted. He thrust up into you, hard, and the noise mixed with the feeling of your soaked connected parts and his head slamming into your g-spot made your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

Spencer removed his hand from your mouth and kissed you, snaking his tongue into your mouth. You made out, nasty spit swapping kisses full of teeth and tongue as he fucked his cum deep inside you. 

The filthy sounds of you rocking together and your moans left your vision blurring and your mind foggy. All you were focused on was this, on Spencer taking you to heaven and making you leave your body to cum on his dick over and over again. 

Sweat poured from you both, the stinking scent of musky sex and lust clouding the room until it was all you knew. He was all you could think about, his pumping shaft splitting you open.

"Everything I need, everything I want, is right here," he moaned, gliding smoothly through you, so deep you were sure you'd split in two. "In my bed, never gonna let you go, sweetheart…" 

Soon enough, neither of you could speak, and you laid there and took it happily. His body molded to yours, his slippery cock filling you and holding you wide and primed to be a filled hole for him. 

Your mind clouded over as another orgasm took you, going completely limp and letting it wash over you as you weakly clung to the world, to Spencer. He let out a shaking breath as he emptied himself into your open womb, collapsing onto you with trembling limbs and heated skin.

You didn’t know how long you laid there, spent and used and stuffed so full your belly ached. You vaguely registered Spencer speaking softly to you, eventually carrying you from the bed into an awaiting bathtub, filled with bubbles and the soft vanilla he loved to scrub into your skin.

By the time you came to, your head rested on his shoulder, his hands smoothing gentle lines up your back. He rocked you back and forth, occasionally pulling you close by your hair and kissing the top of your head with satisfied grunts. 

You blinked blearily around the room, taking in the dark walls that matched his living and bedroom. You groaned and nuzzled closer to him, feeling him smile against you as you gained enough strength back to hug him. 

“At least your bathroom is clean,” you murmured, and he laughed lightly. 

“Welcome back, sweetheart.”

“Mmm,” you grumbled, pressing a weak kiss to his neck. “I’m hungry.”

“Unfortunately, this is not the apartment that is regularly stocked,” he said, a bit embarrassed at himself. “We can go pick up Milo and get breakfast at that diner he likes. You drink coffee and I'll help him cut up his pancakes. How's that sound?"

You leaned up and pressed your lips to his, sighing happily when he kissed you back, “Like heaven.”

CM Forever Tag:

@thedancingcostumeyoungadult @muffin-cup @simplyparker @spencerreidsmommy @hotchandspencearedilfs @gspenc @kbakery @nomajdetective @givemeth @hoshihiime @halloween-is-my-nationality @reidselle @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid @dreatine @thebloomingeagle @fortheloveofwonderland @theforgottenwinter @parkerreidnorth @reidselle @randomhoex @scargarcia-magshotchner @stitchwrites 

[mayiwritesomething]

Love Is an Unfamiliar Name (Pt. 4)

Wordcount: 3,4k

A/N: What do you do when the line begins to blur? A bit longer chapter that got quite a cheesy 80s vibe (sorry haha), as the reader finally stops holding her back 🥹

Warnings: a very brief teasing moment but no big deal.

PART THREE

————

…That is Jupiter

After five months of nonstop work, the sound department finally received a much-needed week-long break. Considering your team has been working even during periods without shooting, everything was running smoothly. With the change in location, your strategic planning, and most of all: teamwork, you were all able to take a well-deserved rest. Timmy had joined the set this month to provide assistance, adding to the familiar faces of Jenny and your as you call; new best friend, Pedro. You were pleased to see that Tim and Pedro got along.

Excitement bubbled within you for the upcoming weekend. With Timmy staying over, Amy planned to visit while her mother looked after the kids. Maria couldn't make it, as she was in Paris, living her second love story over the past five months. Despite her absence, you were not mad at her, as this time, you genuinely believed things would work out, especially since her new girlfriend seemed like a good person.

There was one person more excited than you—Jenny, the queen of event organization. In addition to assisting you, she had managed to arrange a Saturday night out, discovering a small pub in a neighboring city hosting an '80s/New Wave night. Jenny ensured that the entire group would attend, including Pedro, who then persuaded May and Lauren to join. What started as a casual night out for four people quickly escalated into an event that overwhelmed you, causing you to abandon checking the group chat upon seeing over ten people confirming their attendance at Jenny's Mad Night.

"Jenny, what the fuck?" You exclaimed, slightly irritated. "I thought we were going for a low-key night out, not this big event shit. Come on, I'm too old for this; I just want... you know... Sit down, sing, drink a little bit, and relax." You sank back into the sofa.

"Come oooon, the 30s are the new 20s," Jenny retorted, still typing away. You noticed she had mentioned you in the group chat and posted a picture of you lounging on the sofa like melted ice cream, with the caption, "Night at the retirement house."

"Stop being so grumpy! Even Pedro, who always finds an excuse to skip our outings, confirmed he is going," she paused, a mischievous smile forming on her lips. "Quite coincidentally, right after I mentioned that you were going too."

Rolling your eyes, you heard the group chat notification sound. Jenny giggled in anticipation. "There she goes," you muttered. Another message popped up, this time from Pedro: “Sounds great, may I join in?”. You blushed and responded with the sleepy emoji.

"Poor guy," Jenny mused to herself before turning back to you. "Why did you do that? Sending a sleepy emoji? You just left the poor guy hanging in a group chat with like ten people."

Another message from Pedro appeared—a broken heart emoji. Panicking, you attempted to explain to Jenny, "No! I meant the sleepy emoji, like I was actually sleeping. You said it was a retirement house, so I thought... 

Another notification chimed, this time from Jenny: "Pedro, there's always space for you. We can kick her out, you're much nicer."

 

One more notification, a private message from Timmy: "Are you kidding me?"

Amy's message then appeared: "What's your problem?”

Suddenly, a message popped up in your girls' group chat. Jenny had sent a screenshot of your response to Pedro, captioned "no mercy for the wicked." Maria's reaction was a simple "OMG," while Amy expressed confusion with an "I wish I could understand."

Feeling foolish, you decided to send him a private message. "Hey, you don't have to ask to join, as my friend, you can always drop by," you wrote. His response was a simple, "Ok, buddy, got it." 

Part of you struggled with the realization that the line of your friendship was starting to blur, and you were hesitant to accept it, fearing it could ruin the amazing relationship you shared. Yet, another part of you felt that shit already went down, and you actually wanted him to be by your side on the same sofa where you now lay. After checking your phone repeatedly, there were no notifications. Five minutes passed with still no word.

"Shit!" you cursed as Jenny retreated to her room, leaving you alone.

 

-

As Saturday night approached, you hadn't seen Pedro yet, but Lauren informed you that he and the girls would meet you at the pub, as you all needed to arrive early to secure the reservations. "He won't go," you thought to yourself. "He's too stubborn not to," you added. Either way, what are you going to do about it? 

Sending a blurry road picture to the group chat with the message "On our way," you actually intended it for Pedro alone, as you both shared a habit of exchanging random daily situation pictures.

“Still waiting for Princess May.” Lauren said.

“We’ll be leaving in 30 minutes.“ Jeff, one of your crew members, sent.

However, there was still no sign of Pedro.

 

You were feeling yourself this night, wearing a black long-sleeve short dress paired with fancy combat boots and a windbreaker. Your hair was left loose, you wanted to feel comfortable singing along to all the Tears for Fears and Depeche Mode songs that would be played. But you couldn’t stop thinking about the fucking crying emoji.

Upon arriving at the pub, you, Jenny, and Amy raised your glasses in a toast to your friendship, Maria’s new lover and Amy's rare day off from the chaos of motherhood. Jenny, the beer nerd, was deep in her hops, while Amy preferred the smoothness of gin. Despite not being a regular drinker, you opted for an old-fashioned that you knew wouldn't last long in your hand. Minutes later, the rest of your crew arrived, but Pedro and the girls were still nowhere to be seen, fueling the anxiety coursing through your veins. However, the mood shifted as the cover band kicked off their set with Alice Cooper.

 

Jenny had chosen the perfect spot, where you could blend in without drawing attention. On the other hand, Timmy was stopped twice by fans, but he handled it with ease. The music ignited something within you—a primal urge to scream along with the chorus, the whiskey fueling your veins as you felt Alice was talking to you through the lyrics. Amy joined in, screaming with you:

 

“I wanna love you but I better not touch (don't touch)

I wanna to hold you, but my senses tell me to stop

I wanna to kiss you but I want it too much (too much)

I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison “

 

You were headbanging to the music, caught up in the moment, and instinctively hugged Jenny as she joined in.

"I should hug you more often, Jen," you felt the need to say.

"Are you okay?" She asked with a laugh. "You've had like two drinks and turned into a lovey-dovey girl... What's going on?" sensing your disappointment.

"Physically, I'm feeling great. Emotionally... well... it hurts, Jen," you admitted, drawing closer as she struggled to suppress her laugh, knowing you were being sincere. The alcohol had a way of making you more vulnerable. "I can feel he won't show up."

"If he doesn't come, that's his loss. Tonight is about us," she reassured you, pulling you into a comforting hug. "May said they were coming," she observed, studying your expression. "You know, you don't always have to keep up this icy facade. It's okay to show your true feelings. It's better than self-sabotaging. If he does show up, talk to him."

"He ignored me, Jen," you confessed, feeling a bit lightheaded.

"Let's not forget who dumped him in a group chat," she reminded you.

"I didn't mean it that way. I texted him, and he just brushed everything off with an 'huh okay, got it buddy,'" you imitated him. 

"Then talk to him. It's not like you'll lose a limb or something. It could be good for both of you," Jenny suggested.

"You don't know how it feels, Jen," you said, now looking at your hands and gesturing. "One part of me wants to express my feelings, even if I can't understand them, and see where it leads. The other part doesn't want to risk losing what little I have now as being his friend" Tears welled up in your eyes. "It hurts too much, you know, the thought of losing it," you concluded as you took a sip of the remaining whiskey, now watered down with melted ice. "Gosh, I'm so stupid," you chuckled, a nervous laugh escaping your lips.

"You're just scared. We do silly things when we're terrified," Jenny reassured you, pulling you into another hug, her only desire to see you at peace.

Pedro and the girls arrived a few minutes after your heart-to-heart with Jenny. May seemed to need this night out as much as you did, and she wasted no time joining your group. Pedro, on the other hand, greeted everyone, including you, before heading over to the table with your crewmates.

As the night progressed, you and your friends belted out the lyrics to new wave classics, losing yourselves in the music. Determined to be responsible for your actions, you decided to go without any more drinks and opted for regular Coke to boost the sugar in your blood. Jenny's words about it being ”Girls night" echoed in your mind. 

However, you couldn't resist peeking over at the table from time to time. It seemed like Pedro was having a great time without you, and you couldn't help but feel a hint of disappointment. Deciding to take one last look, you noticed "Blue Monday" playing in the background. The universe has a twisted sense of humor.

 

“How does it feel, to treat me like you do?”

 

To your surprise, he was also glancing in your direction. You raised your glass, offering a smile, but his response was a cold raise of his own glass. So fucking stupid.

“Are you happy now?” Amy teased, breaking the tension.

“Well, kind of,” you replied, chuckling as you turned back to your friends.

“Hey! Look, now's your chance,” Jenny urged you on as if she were coaching you for a competition.

“What for?” You were puzzled.

“He just went outside, stupid! Probably for a smoke. Go after him!” Jenny insisted. “I just saw it! Go.” She was more observant than you.

“I don’t want to smoke, didn't even bring anything.” You hesitated, feeling nervous.

“That's not a problem,” Jenny assured you, effortlessly securing a cigarette from a nearby guy. "Now, go!" She handed you the cigarette, taking on the role of a matchmaker. You felt like a teenager.

Despite your initial hesitance, you summoned a false sense of confidence and left the circle of girls to follow him outside. In that moment, you momentarily forgot about his public persona as you sought him out in a quiet corner, where he stood gazing up at the sky. Approaching him slowly, you finally stood by his side and nervously asked, "Got fire?" 

At first, he appeared annoyed, but as he recognized you, a wide smile lit up his face. "Here you go," he offered you the lighter.

"Oh, I don't need it," you declined, gesturing with your hand. "I just wanted an excuse to talk to you, silly," you admitted, mustering up the most confident expression you could manage.

"As my friend, you can always come by," he replied with a chuckle, returning his gaze to the sky. You felt the ironic tone. "The sky here is out of this world,” he said. “You can see every single star."

"And some planets too," you added. "I can see Mars," you said, focused on the night sky. "Jupiter... and Venus, I believe."

"Really?" He seemed genuinely surprised. "Can you show me?" One thing you admired about him was his curiosity for learning from others, a trait you initially misjudged as mere flattery. But over time, you came to realize his genuine interest in people.

"Yes!" Your excitement was visible, as the night sky was your passion. “Excuse me,” you said, moving quite closer and extending your arm by his side. "Look,” you pointed. “Just follow my finger. Do you see that one of those stars seems to be red? That’s Mars, near Sagittarius. And that bright light is Venus," you explained, his attention fixed on you. "Jupiter is a bit trickier, but see that spot right after the moon?" Turning to face him, you noticed his mesmerized expression at you. "Well… uhm… That... that is Jupiter," you concluded, your eyes turning back to the sky.

"Wow," he said, genuinely impressed. "You're like a fucking walking encyclopedia. Is there anything you don't know?"

"Aparently, to make you understand me," you whispered, looking down. "I know I can be messy and mix things up. I understand if you want to... or if you don't..." Your words seemed to falter, as if you had forgotten how to speak coherently.

"No, I'm sorry if I... I mean... that..." he struggled to find the right words, mirroring your own confusion. In your mind, you feared he was trying to gently dump you.

Taking a deep breath to gather your thoughts, you finally spoke. "I like... you know… being your friend. I don't want to ruin it,". Finally, a confession.

"I guess we already have," he replied, looking deeply into your eyes. With a shy smile and a lingering gaze, he added, "I mean... ruin it… It's been a while already." What the hell?

So at this very moment, your heart raced so rapidly that you could feel your face flush. Little did you know, he was experiencing the same feeling, as both of you remained locked in a silent, intense gaze. The desire between you was palpable, yet mingled with apprehension—were you risking it all?

Your body rebelled against your mind's caution, yielding to impulsive impulses. Taking a step forward, you found him still fixed on you, his gaze flickering to your lips briefly, yet he made no move. "Fuck it," you cursed internally as your hand gently landed on his shoulder, met once again with no response.

"Forget it," you murmured, getting closer and closing your eyes as your lips brushed his tenderly. Upon opening your eyes, you saw his were still shut. Sensing his gentle hand on your back, bringing you closer, you felt a smile grace his face. "Forget it," he echoed, cupping your neck and leaning in to reciprocate the kiss. This time, his embrace tightened, and you instinctively wound your arms around his neck, surrendering to the sensations—the touches, the gazes, the escalating intensity of the kiss. Starting leisurely, it soon ignited into a fervent exchange, each moment feeling both like the first and the last, punctuated by shared gasps for air and tender interludes between fervid kisses.

In that transcendent moment, you both lost yourselves in each other, oblivious to your surroundings and the passage of time. What ensued felt far more enduring and profound than a mere shared smoke break.

“Is this a dream?” He said, giggling between kisses, “You have no idea how long I’m expecting this,” his hands playing around your back.

"Pedro, you don’t have to play this ‘I always had a crush on you’ role,” you said, trying to maintain sanity. “I don’t believe a word.” You pretended to be mad, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

"Oh, I forgot you're the cold one,” he said as his hands went a little further down your back, giving you goosebumps. “You almost got me gaving up you know. Lucky for me, I didn’t…” You could feel his heat on your core.

“And I forgot you are aaalways the charmer.” You moved your hips into him, teasing back as he kissed you again.

Lost in the moment, a sparkle of apprehension appeared. “Pedro!” you stopped.

“Whatever you want,” he murmured.

“Let’s keep this between us, right?” You asked aprehensively, “At least for now.”

“As you wish,” he was in ecstasy by the situation, so you were sure he didn’t understand a word.

"Pedro,” you said, stepping back. “I’m real! Just imagine if people find this out while we're still filming; I’ll be the one they'll talk about—It took me a while to be taken seriously, and I don’t wanna mess this up.” 

"Babe,” he said, dragging you back to him. “Why do you rationalize everything?” He kissed your neck as you were melting in his arms. “Could you just enjoy the moment?” You could feel his smile as he whispered to your ear, “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

You turned to face him again. “I don’t rationalize. I just…” You couldn't resist the puppy eyes waiting for your answer, so you kissed him back again, but this time you heard your name. Amy. Fuck.

"Oh my fucking god, Timmy!" she exclaimed, as she and Timmy were frozen in place.

"I told you, baby! I knew it!" Tim seemed as if he had just won the lottery.

"Guys, look..." you began, trying to explain as you adjusted your hair. "This is not what you're thinking. We were just… talking, that's all."

"Babe, they are not blind," Pedro said, looking a bit dazed as his hands rested on your waist. Sensing his touch, you took a step back, away from him. He chuckled.

"Did he just call you babe? No way." Amy was still processing the situation. Tim laughed at your sudden movement.

"We definitely are not blind, and no one takes a 40-minute cigar break kiddo... and I see no cigarettes here," Timmy remarked, taking a sip of his beer.

"40 minutes?" You were taken aback. You glanced at Pedro, who simply shrugged and tried to draw you back into his arms. "Wait," you told him firmly, and although he seemed a bit out of it, he respected your request.

"40 damn minutes since you left, then Timmy suggested that maybe you both were here making out, so we came to check," Amy said with a giggle.

"But relax, guys. This was just between us. We didn't say anything to the others," Tim reassured, his tone serious.

"Damn," you muttered quietly. Pedro's gaze lingered on your body as if he could see right through your clothes. "Hey, look at me!" you demanded, now feeling annoyed.

"Sorry," he turned to face you, smiling, his head spinning.

"Well, guys, if you want to continue your make-out session, you should finish at the hotel," Amy suggested. "It will seem weird if both of you just disappear."

"Yeah, Pedro here waited six months; he won't die waiting a few more hours," Timmy added, patting Pedro's shoulder. They both laughed, and you felt yourself blushing. Wait! How did he knew that?

"You see how mean she can be, man? The day didn’t even got to an end and I already got dropped in a group chat, and now I'll be left here," Pedro teased, looking at you. 

"Here he comes," you said, rolling your eyes. "He needs to provoke me, or his day isn't complete."

"Because I love to see you getting angry," Pedro said, hugging you. "It's soooo easy to get under your skin," he whispered in your ear.

"Get a room, you two," Amy joked, glancing at the door to see if anyone was coming outside. Spotting Jenny and Jeff leaving together, you and Amy received a message in the girls' group chat. "Leaving with Jeff, loved the night, see you tomorrow ;)"

 

Feeling the need to leave, you decided to go back inside as if nothing had happened. The pub was buzzing with excitement as Depeche Mode blared through the speakers. You and Amy rejoined the girls, while Pedro followed Timmy and sat back at the table. You both chose to keep your distance as the night progressed.

As the evening continued, all of you enjoyed the rest of the night at the small pub. The staff eventually approached you, kindly asking you to leave as they needed to close up.

You left with Amy and Timmy as everyone made their way home, including Pedro, May, and Lauren. In the car, you felt your phone vibrating. It was a message from Pedro: "My room or your room? We have unfinished business." Considering the location of your rooms, his seemed like the better option in case there was any noise, as he was on a way better side of the hotel. "Yours. I'll drop by when I arrive. Friend," you replied, holding back the urge to express how much you already missed his touch, choosing to convey it in person instead.

“You don't have to dream it all, just live a day

Don't say a prayer for me now

Save it 'til the morning after”

[sw33tsnow]

Sculpture and you

Keegan x Artist!F!Reader (18+)

Summary: It was an accident which led to you both separation but Keegan knew how to fix his wrong doing, fixed it real good.

Warnings: NOT FOR MINORS, College!au: older!reader & younger!Keegan, mentions of injury, slight angst, fluff, heavy plot, smut: mommy!kink, desperate (?), swearing, footjob (m!receiving), oral (f!receiving), heavy praises, nipples play, mating press, unprotected sex (p in v), cum on stomach, etc. Wordcount: 8k1

NOTE(s):

I'M TERRIBLY APOLOGIZE FOR ANY GRAMMAR ERRS

Here are the paintings that've been mentioned in my writing: The Triumph of the Name of Jesus , Michelangelo’s titanic portrayal of the Old Testament Book of Genesis , Starry Night , Café Terrace At Night

So sorry for the wordcount ૮(˶╥︿╥)ა

Love equals a piece of artwork. It is brittle and prone to being damaged when it's initially incomplete, yet becomes remarkably solid when subjected to heat. But, it'll eventually shatter if you don't treasure it or put your mind to it well.

Situated on a nearby hill, your university is prominently displayed in the city flanked by the scent of damp soil and vibrant lush foliage that varies in shades depending on the seasons. A vast campus is formed on either side of the river that flows through the middle with the ever-present fog on the surface creating the most picturesque scenery you'd ever catch in your entire life. The majestic yet graceful architecture of seven buildings took years to design by the brilliant professors from all departments and to build, standing tall and proud like sentinels guarding your campus from all directions.

It could never be boastful to state that your university has a significant influence on the fine arts scene globally, and that you have worked so hard to succeed here.

The Visual Arts building - your course's tower, which housed the painting, drawing, and sculpture, was placed between the Architecture and Literature ones. That's quite convenient for you because, despite receiving excellent comments on your expertise and collaboration, you failed to get along with others in your course because nearly all of your buddies were Architecture department alumni. Perhaps that helped explain why you're sitting happily in the study hall which did not belong to your building, where from the librarian to the sophomores were so familiar with your constant presence that they didn't care to question.

However, you didn't show up to have fun this time. The theme for the architects' project was History and Religion and your bestfriend reached you because her junior had picked a topic closely related to the Visual Arts and required assistance.

"As an exemplary senior, I've to help my juniors as much as I can. Especially when it only costs three meals to repay the favor, right bestie?" And she batted her lashes at you, only to get a nod of approval from you to escape the cringeness that she offered. 

Since your closest friend chose the construction of the Kölner Dom, a stunning specimen of Gothic architecture, as her topic, you must admit that you were a little dubious about this proposal. Architecture's learners do not show interest in any particular paintings, drawings, or sculptures. What fascinates them are the construction, the length of time the projects require to develop, the value and backstory.....blah blah blah, so much dull information that you couldn't help but groan each time she babbled into your ear.

Until you met Keegan.

He was a freshman, passed the tensing admission of your college four months ago. On the opening day, there was one pastime that the girls of all faculties had in common: gushing on the new students. Although you're not one of them, the seemingly never-ending parties and overwhelming adoration towards outstanding individuals undoubtedly added to the widespread fervor for Keegan. 

A picture is worth a thousand words.

The boy had deep blue eyes and a remarkable height, he even had to bend down when going through the doors. You mistakenly thought he was a model because with that attractive visage and that masculine jawline, not to mention that his sturdy yet slim waist and protruding chest muscles were flaunted beautifully in a simple black T-shirt tucked into matching trousers. Silver belt buckle and chain necklace swing rhythmically with each step he took, the leather backpack hanging off one shoulder and those Timberland boots; it's awkward knowing that the keen eyes and meticulousness you inherited from your mother and have utilized primarily in your studies has proven to be so beneficial.

"Keeg, over here" One of the group's friends yelled.

The dark head spun around, his eyes shone like a lost child who had just found his siblings. He marched over to your table and took a seat opposite to you right away. Much to your surprise, Keegan’s quite reserved, which is pleasant for you because at least the boy still has something in common with those who constantly have a pair of thick glasses glued to their face; and because you’re pretty bad at dealing with arrogant punks.   

Impressively, not focusing on gigantic and iconic geometric features, Keegan has picked two of the finest ceiling decorations in Rome. 

“I still can't decide between The Sistine Chapel and The Gesù, so I need your advice. You don't mind, right?”

Attentive and respectful. He was probing your expression, as if didn't want you to feel uncomfortable working with him.

"Of course not"

Keegan grumbled softly at hearing your courteous response and turned away to retrieve his laptop from his rucksack.

"Uhm hmm, not yet" Your best friend murmured, prompting you to turn and stare at her with a puzzled frown.

Then the boy took out his laptop, and instead of the original casing, there was the well-known Starry Night painting by the begetter Vincent Van Gogh.

"Did you draw that?" Pointing at the case, the corners of your mouth curved up and your eyes widened slightly in amusement. 

"Ah, yes.....this's just my own taste cus I'm not really drawn to Picasso's blocks and color scheme nor adopt the surrealism like Salvador Dalí" Genuinely he spoke, "Do you also like Van Gogh as well?"

Raising your eyebrows before flipping the phone onto a table over, the drawing of Café Terrace At Night was likewise repainted on your phone case. That successfully earned a comfortable chuckle from Keegan, and you casted a innuendo glance at your best friend, who was already beaming mischievously at you.

From his penchant for style to his distinct standpoint on artists to the two religious structures he opted for as the focus of his task, Keegan has more surprises than you expect from him. There also did not appear to be a disagreement between your ideas, since your aesthetic preferences were clearly comparable.

The venue that he selected was Rome, also referred to as the Eternal City. Any discussion on ceiling paintings in this ‘never-ending array of fabulous churches and palaces’ city must start with what is arguably the most well-known artwork in art history: Michelangelo’s titanic portrayal of the Old Testament Book of Genesis. It’s hard to envision the sheer scale of the work of 175 separate pictorial fields containing over 300 monumental figures, including thundering prophets, ancient seers and statuesque nudes, also known as ignudi, framing the central narratives of the creation of the world. At the very centre of this epic biblical narrative is the most iconic scene of all - the moment when God gives life to his magnificent human creation with a single touch of index fingers. Elsewhere God is working diligently to complete the endeavor of creating a world that his human charges can thrive in. Here he divides light from darkness, and there he separates land from ocean. Tosses the sun, moon, and distant planets into the void in one scenario, and becomes a divine horticulturist by conjuring flora and fauna out of thin air in another. Yet not each and every detail is rosy upon the Sistine Chapel ceiling. Not too long do Adam and Eve find themselves in challenges, incapable to resist the forbidden fruit that an evil serpent offers, and all that follows falls to hell in the next scenes as the sorrowful couple is banished from Eden. Things only become worse as humanity descends deeper into depravity, culminating in the horrific Flood sequence where much of the world is submerged beneath the swelling waves of God's wrath. When Michelangelo's astounding fresco cycle was eventually shown in just four years of almost superhuman activity to a feverish public in 1512, the world was suitably amazed. He was hailed as the greatest artist of his, or any other generation, and the history of art was to be altered forever. 

About The Triumph of the Name of Jesus, which you suggested more. In the wake of the call to arms of the Counter-Reformation for a renewed emphasis on the ability of art to astound the faithful with astounding feats of painterly virtuosity, Roman artists went above and beyond in their pursuit of pushing the boundaries of their craft in the numerous magnificent new churches that were appearing all over the city. Among the most luxurious of them all was the Gesù, the mother church of the newly founded Jesuit order. The magnificent church's interior, finished in 1584, is a treasure trove of priceless artwork, but what truly excels visitors is the spectacular paintings that were painted on the dome and ceiling a century later. Il Baccicio, the artist, seemed to have created a miracle that is solely appropriate for the hallowed surroundings. As you cast your gaze upwards, the church's vault appears to vanish into a whirling mass of clouds, providing a clear glimpse into the celestial sphere of heaven. The Triumph of the Name of Jesus was the one dear subject matter to the Jesuits' hearts. Immersed in dazzling rays of celestial light, the monogram of Christ's name looms at the very core of the ceiling, encircled by a plethora of angels and holy beings enthralled with the miracle. By the mere mention of Christ's name, rebel angels tempted by Satan's hollow promises of power were defeated and tumbled illusionistically from the vault in a tangle of grotesque limbs and painful poses. Baroque bombast at its best together with the free combination of painting, sculpture, and architecture fosters a theatrical, multi-sensorial, and three-dimensional ensemble - Baccicio's enormous fresco guaranteed The Gesù's place as one of the most significant pilgrimage sites in Rome during the 17th century.  

The fact that Keegan shared and conversed the knowledge which every Visual Arts learner has plainly knew like the back of their hands with you was certainly impressive. Disparities with shapes, colors, and patterns; the balance between the frames and, more especially, Keegan's art-related approach is incredibly unrestricted and free. Much too refined an aesthetic sense for an architect of his caliber.

You two were so wrapped up in your work that the other friends had to remind you that it's almost time for the study hall to close, not realizing the two hours went by rather quickly. Silently, you sighed as you packed up your stuff, aware that you might not get to see Keegan again. It's extremely difficult to come across someone who suits you like that, after all. Despite your pout of discontent, you said everyone farewell and began to leave.

"Wait!" The boy called after you in a hurry, so you stopped and gestured to your best friend to wait for you in the parking lot.

Even though you're shorter than Keegan, this posture of him was as if he just got scolded by you as the boy scratched his head and stared down to the floor. Humming speechlessly because he couldn't find the right word , you were patient to wait for him to continue.

"Every day after school.....are you free?" He raised his voice timidly.

"It depends, what's wrong?" You inquired again, carefully, so as not to press the issue.

"Just, if it's okay, can you teach me how to paint.....I mean, doodling is fine" He quickly added, "Please....don't say no"

With a grin, you lifted that attractive face to face you by your index finger under his chin, "I can teach you everything about visual arts, as long as you don't criticize my limited abilities sweet boy"

Keegan flushed as he heard your teasing and the pet name you gave him, but managed to nod with his lips pursed.

For several months, Keegan consistently showed up on time. He waited for you to finish your lectures before the two of you headed to any random tools room in order to practice. You taught him almost everything: molding ceramics, sketching then painting on canvas frames, or how to create tertiary hues......

Exams requiring greater expertise, such those for oil painting or sculpturing, could come around sometimes. If you allowed Keegan to assist you, you'd stand right next to him, holding his hand, and pressing his larger fingers onto those details that needed extra attention. Of course, you were deliberately interacting closely with the boy but there was no denying the sparks between you both as well.

You're different from the people Keegan knew. You refuse to care about things that didn't concern you, so when you first met you seemed quite formal; you also possessed quite dark humor, which definitely interfered with your artistic fancy. 

Actually, you admired Italian painter Roberto Ferri even more. Roberto's works reflected what you're seeking in various pieces of art - the shading and coloration, the nudity and amalgamating were not jarring or confusing, but rather extremely precise and incisive. You elaborated once that 'Contrariety is necessary', nevertheless, as with other fields. It was previously remarked by your professor that your taste in artistry is sort of….dark and vulgar, they suggested that an extremely distinct portrayal would be beneficial for stimulating the artist's brain system. So you decided to go with Vincent Van Gogh. You valued him because he was influenced by painters like Monet and Renoir, who embraced New Impressionism, and shared a fascination in light with them. But he quickly established his own unique: powerful brush technique, mainly using warm reds, oranges, and yellows. Subtle brush strokes resulted in powerful and striking visualizations.

“And basically because a tiny frame as my phone case couldn’t fully convey Ferri's painting and the content was also more sensitive” Similar to Van Gogh's art was definitely the more suitable option.

That's how you explained when the younger one started to ask way too many questions rather than focusing on his work. 

Keegan found it fascinating that you're quite flirty and enjoy calling others by pet names as he got to know you better. The boy flushed upon hearing you calling your best friend by tons of intimate names that you gave her. You also compliment a lot, but what's bothered Keegan was the way, the tone in which you delivered them. 

Your voice is a bit lower, sounding like you're purring. Good job, That's it, Perfect for his efforts and Pretty boy, Sweetheart, Love for the times when you two talked outside the box.

Keegan always felt as though there was a dulcet shiver traveling down his spine after earning praises from you; itching but intriguing somehow. And in return, he called you Tutor, his tutor, to both tease and offer his appreciation for the guidance which you're happily imparted without assuming any explanations from him. For instance, why did he choose Architecture and not Visual Arts?

You respect his privacy, he knew. You still tended to him, but not in an uncomfortable way, making him willing to be lured to your side more and more. 

Everything was going so well until a few weeks ago. Keegan abruptly grew more and more aloof. Frequently, he would either cancel in the last-minute or the night before, leaving you disappointed and not understanding why. You assumed there was something special between you and him. Yet, after he returned, you were overjoyed at first but eventually grew uneasy around him as he became angrier, more easily agitated, and no longer wanted to be close to you.

He wanted to try whittling this time. Unlike stone or clay, which could be readily crafted, the main substance used was wood. 

Wood and other hard materials are usually tough to mold, and Keegan was plainly not capable of handling them given his greeness. But whenever he gave up and you just sighed then redone the whole log, it still simply caused disappointment if it didn't turn out the way he wanted. You knew that Keegan was under a lot of pressure due to the art program's periodic exams so you've attempted to steer him toward a more agreeable subject, but his stubbornness proved to be a bothersome obstacle. 

So you merely stood in the corner of the room and gazed at that enormous back for that reason. Your head slightly tilted to take a better view of a coating of sweat adhered to his forehead and his eyebrows furrowed as his lips pursed when the boy was unable to come up with ideas. The soft gestures in stark contrast to his veiny arms always made you wet your lips in silence.

They said ‘Men are most charismatic when they're focused’. And you couldn’t agree more.

If he caught you, like before, he would purposefully poke fun at you and garner an eye roll from you before your enraged fingers pinched a part of his sculptures. Superb reprisal.

But shit was different that day....

"Fuck me, why is it so difficult?" Keegan complained with his raspy voice, throat as parched as the Sahara desert from dehydration for quite a while.

"I'll go fetch something to drink” 

“No need….here” You quickly stopped him, reached into your bag and pulled out your water bottle, and tossed it to him, “Don’t want you to get kicked out of here” 

According to the rules at your university, you risk being expelled if, after office hours, you enter the wrong building as a non-student belonging to that specific department.

“Alright, whatever you say” He spoke as holding up his hands in a surrendering gesture.

Which made you scrunch your face due to his disrespectful manner.

"Are you upset about me raising my voice?" Catching your grimace, Keegan mockingly raised his question.

He was always playful, but at the time, he's being snarky toward you. And you detest that so much.

"Concentrate on your work" Maintaining the monotone tone but lowering your voice a bit in order to show authority, you slowly moved closer to his standing. 

"Don't touch" The boy glared.

You folded both hands behind you, focusing entirely on the piece of wood rather than Keegan. He also resumed his motion, occasionally crouching down to search for sketches that had been discarded somewhere or different carving knives. 

Interruptedly, you and Keegan would talk about approaches to improving the origin log, but the discussion quickly devolved into another argument, so he snubbed you and turned away to continue. For fuck sake, these teenage lads' egos are so goddamn tremendous. You're solely offering advice, not imposing; why would he behave like that? 

Just take a look around....The floor beneath his feet, where tools were being flung and numerous strewn bits of pared timber scattered all over. Your mother used to frequently nag you when you were a kid because of your untidy traits, plus, that terrible habit would get you into trouble eventually. 

And as predicted, when the boy turned to retrieve his palette, he neglected to take out the blade, leaving it lodged in the wood. So undoubtedly, you have to remove it to avoid any potential dangers.

"I told you not to touch it!" 

Turning back and seeing you touching the most difficult mosaic area that he had just completed, Keegan barked and quickly paced to violently nudge your hand away.

There was a faint sound of something sharp cutting through the spongy softness, and the knife had left a sweet, delicate line which broadened from your palm all the way to your chelidon. Because the blade is designed to precisely carve into small spaces so your veins did not splash out any gallon of your sweet crimson; instead, one drop, then two drops, and at last, like sap oozing out from a tree trunk - your arm have unleashed waves of red fluid, dripping onto the chilly surface below. 

With a hiss, you quickly reached for your thin blouse and tightly wrapped it around your arm to halt the bleeding. It wasn't painful, but the stinging and burning that were given seemed as if your skin was being roasted over an intense flame, forcing you to shut your eyes to block out the suffering.

"F-fuck...oh fuck..." Keegan's voice trembled, "I told you not to come closer"

You slowly turned around, tightly sealed lids opened and penetrated straight into his sapphire pupils. Menacing expression made him gulp.

"Don't blame others for your carelessness, Russ" You gritted your teeth, "If it weren't for me, you would have to ask the professor’s permission for submitting your assignment late, so be grateful and quit that attitude of yours, eh?"

Every word, laced with venom as you amplified them. It's true that he's also working on his test, so the boy was too stunned to speak, dumbfounded and did not dare to chase after you as you stormed out of the room. 

_-_-_-_-_-_-_

It's the beginning of autumn, the sky was pouring, and dry leaves that are tinted with ocher and lemon were falling everywhere throughout the campus, adding to your already melancholy mood.

Two weeks of nonattendance on account of an implausible excuse, such a car accident, as it's a violation to the law to arbitrarily use the college facilities and supplies other than during regular instructional sessions.

The lobby, which was crammed to excess and devoid of standing space, had become vacant by now. After all, your class was the last one of the day, thus it's unsurprising that the place was quiet without a soul in sight. You stayed back late to wait and chat with the professor about some unfinished school work since you dislike having to jostle, surely not to avoid meeting somebody.

Dark green moss off-shoulder knitted sweater with stretchy jeans and a pair of Dr.Martens leather boots. As you drainedly opened the locker to store your things, the voice that had become ingrained in your memory appeared somewhere behind you. 

“I texted you about the injury, but you didn’t reply”

Fucking bad timing, you cussed under your breath.

“My mother said she’d chop me into pieces if I dare to hold a paintbrush, let alone texting” You answered curtly, wanting to shoo Keegan away. 

“Oh….so is yo—”

“My arm ‘s alright by now, you don’t have to worry ‘bout it…” You shutted him off, clearly didn’t have enough patience to deal with him, “I have to go, bye Keegan”

Turning swiftly on your heel then immediately getting captured by the younger person by your wrist, you pushed out a deep sigh before frowning and glancing up at the person who was blocking the path in front of you.

“Slow down, hey, I just want to talk—” He retreated his palm right away, “I-I want to apologize for what…uhm...”  

It's been a while since you've witnessed this withdrawn and reserved side of him, but you're so fatigued that you didn't want to talk to or give a damn about anyone. The boy seemed to have realized how you were suppressing your discomfort and has moved back, returning you back your personal space.

“Please, I’m terribly sorry for my precipitation, I didn’t mean to make you bleed”

Keegan didn't want you to ever leave on your own again because of his past foolishness, so he reminded himself to maintain his distance and remain composed. You understanded that Keegan was truly sincere in his intention to make it up to you, and yet you did not ask him to. It's not like you saved him or something, plus, you hate the thought of someone owing you a favor or anything similar.

“It’s just an accident, Keegan” You exhaled, punctuation, end of discussion. 

If possible, you wish to never see him again. You always find a way to avoid confronting your complex emotions since you're not very good at facing them and nothing else can give you a sense of security other than that.

"Then can you, please, one last time...." He spoke in a somewhat softer, more beseeching tone, ".....Be my tutor"

As if being haunted by his previous mockery, you searched for irony in those stunning eyes, and you found none. There's also a determination that rendered it impossible to argue against, so you have no choice but to approve.

Keegan followed you to your regular spot. Because it's the weekend, even the janitors had fled as soon as their shifts ended, leaving the entire campus to you two. You were correct to assume that, all thanks to the two-way, one facing the parking lot and the other towards the campus, which had taken the place of the room's two walls, showing only Keegan's bike there. Since the art building is regarded as your university's maze, students from other departments couldn't find you two so you certainly wouldn't be disturbed.

Unfortunately, there weren't enough necessary items and tools, you decided to paint on the canvas as usual.

Setting down your backpack, you faced the exterior and silently observed the younger one, waiting for his request. Keegan swallowed hard, hating the distance between you two. You fixed your gaze on him as though a slight movement of yours might result in a reprimand.

Fucking fool, he scolded himself.

"I....I want you to model f-for me" He scratched his head.

"A-and I got this piece of white silk....y-you can do whatever you want with it" he said hurriedly, frightened you might turn him down.

Seriously? Do whatever you want with it. What Keegan just said made him truly want to smack the shit out of him so bad. 

You tilted your head in silent thought. Obviously, sketching the body lines proved difficult enough but adding the garments unveiled an extra challenge entirely. That explained for your nod and your gradual removal of the clothing covering your body. Starting with your boots, then your jeans and panties, but for your upper body, you couldn't do it yourself.

"Get the silk then come here, please, I need a hand"

The request wasn't coerced, and you did not send it out like a command. Though you were not a people pleaser, Keegan always both loathed but admired your civility. The boy was aware that you're not the type to readily undress for others to view, yet something about your professional face unnerved him.

Grabbing the silk, Keegan cleared his throat and walked over to you. He waited for you to grant him permission before gingerly catching the edge of your sweater and pulling it over your head. Then the bra, which was simple to unclasp with one hand. The final bit of cloth slipped off your body, revealing you to the boy whose ears and face were as red as a ripped tomato due to your angelic bare physique.

"Are you gonna start?" You inquired and took the silk from the other person's hand.

And Keegan frantically ran to drag a divan for you to sit on.

The white silk piece was extremely lengthy but thin, resembling a stream that covered your entire body. The feather-like friction caused your nipples to tighten a bit, and your palm nonchalantly covered the tender region between your legs, creating an elegant yet equally alluring sight. You were aware that you weren't blessed with an aesthetically pleasing figure, but the tent that could not be appeased at the crotch of the artist across from you was enough to provide you a boost in your performance. 

Whether it's an ordinary biological response or another type of reaction... 

Your muscles were sore from maintaining the same posture for a long time. As you raised your gaze to Keegan, he saw and paused to give you both a moment to rest.

"Tired?" You asked when the boy stretched.

"I'm the one who should ask that, tutor" Keegan snickered. Oh the sound he made never failed to make you smile as well.

Standing up, the boy pushed past his work and knelt down before you to gently massage your calf with his warm hands. Keegan didn't raise his head, rather, he concentrated on aiding you in stretching your muscles. Needless to say, Keegan was deeply ashamed for his reckless behavior as well as the impulsive words that followed. Though it's clearly not between the two of you, there's still a problem, and since you're not a nosy person, you weren't sure how to approach him.

"My parents found out...." He bitterly confessed, "They broke the clay piece I made with you - two halves of the face kissing each other"

At that moment, your breathing stopped and your chest tightened when you learned the reason for the boy's sudden alienation.

"But that's not an excuse" He bit his lip, "I was an asshole, a truly fucking asshole.....You know, art a-and you are the only safe place I ever had. But I’ve treated you wrong, so wrong" 

Reaching for your wounded arm, he planted kisses along the sunken scar that owned a brighter pigmentation on your flesh. His tender and mindful gestures truly broke your heart.

"I'm sorry...I'm really sorry, I shouldn’t have, I should never treat you that way" His voice sounded ruptured, like it had been violently trodden upon, yet it likewise sounded like a growl.

"Why didn't you tell me?" You gingerly whispered.

Keegan's eyes were glassy and his orbs compared to two polished pearls, constantly wavering in misery. He didn’t know what to say or how to say it.

The divorce that resulted from one of Keegan's parents having an affair was the lowest point in his life. They filed a lawsuit in court, but neither one was willing to give the other child custody, so he ended up living under a rotten roof. All the dreams the boy had have been extinguished, they no longer meant anything. Allowing them to control his life in the way they wanted, forcing him to study like a dog day and night, and only bringing him the meals that were enough to meet his basic nutritional needs. When his passion for painting was once again re-awakened, Keegan did all in his ability to persuade his parents for the first time to let him decide his future, but they disdained art so much that they made him study architecture instead. Once again, Keegan's purposeless life has returned. He took a gap of four years to join the military, but his parents refused to leave him in solitude. They threatened to use greater punishments if he resisted again, stating that they forbade him from dying on the battlefield. 

How ironic, can you be forbidden to die? Ever?

Thankfully, after entering in this university, Keegan no longer had to live with his parents, letting him have more freedom for himself. Up until Keegan met you, it appeared that his typical university years were not proceeding along in the same way anymore. 

The boy fought to not shed a tear in front of you as his lips quivered whilst he recalled those painful memories. Knowing that no matter what, you wouldn't defame him, but vulnerability has never been on Keegan's mind.

“Hush, my sweet boy” Bending down and connecting yours with the boy's forehead, you cooed.

It was some time before the younger one calmed down. As Keegan's breathing steadied, you gradually withdrew to look him in his eyes, your hands caressing his cheeks and your thumbs lightly rubbing them in comfort. It made you smile warmly to hear him purring in his throat like a cat being cuddled by its master.

“Feel better now?” 

“Mhmm” He shook his head.

“Oh poor baby, what can I do to cheer you up then?” You giggled.

Out of the blue, Keegan took hold of your foot and placed it on his crotch, gently applying pressure and moving it back and forth to arouse the sensitive area beneath the fabric. And you were so taken aback that you couldn't take your eyes off where the boy was using your foot to pursue his pleasure. You've never imagined Keegan would be so straightforward.

"Ah...I-I'm...oh g-god..." He lowered his head and nibbled the skin on your thigh, "Can you -ah- feel my cock twitching f-for you, ma’am?"

Ma’am? 

“Can I call you ma’am….?” He’s breathing heavily, “In the end….ha a-ah…you’re still gonna be my tutor anyways, right?”

You blinked and then suddenly burst out laughing, and Keegan foolishly laughed along with you. Whipped your head down and moved your digits closer to his lips, you eagerly allowed Keegan to play with your foot as he moistened your fingers with his tongue. His soft tongue gilded back and forth between your pointer and middle fingers, and each time you bit your lip, his cheeks would sink in to suck them. It's amazing how different Keegan looked from what you imagined.

“How ‘bout mommy?” Poking your tongue to your inner cheek, you asked while still dancing your fingers with his tongue.

Of course, without hesitation, he nodded aggressively and continued to suck harder on your digits. But then you withdrew your hand and leg, making the boy whined in frustration and rubbed his head in your lap.

"N-no...no please don't do that...." He pouted, "I was so close...."

"Shhh...be a good boy and you'll get what you want" You murmured softly, and Keegan's body shivered as your lips touched his sensitive ear.

You raised an eyebrow and gave Keegan a satisfied smile in response to his yearning gaze. Instantly the boy drew closer, his lips meeting yours. Tongues intertwined, teeth scraping and lower lips bitten and swollen, you lowered your head to deepen the lustful, making Keegan groaned in pleasure.

"Moan for me, Keeg" You broke away from the kiss, moved down and bit his neck, "I wanna hear you, loud and clear"

And he obediently tagged along, his lips trembling as he continually let out muffled whines and mellow groans. The boy's body swayed in response to the sensation of your lips against his flesh.

"C-can I make you feel good, too, mommy?" He wetted his lips, hands reaching up to gently knead the soft plumpness on your chest with an unabashed greed.

"Hmm? You wanna suck my tits?" Your voice trailed off, teasing him

"Yes, yes, please" 

As soon as you nodded, the boy reached to the thin layer of silk and started squeezing your breasts which were set underneath. His large palms dutifully kneaded your feminine parts, mouth bit and sucked, leaving countless love marks from your jawline to your cleavage. You're just so soft, he couldn't get enough of it, of these beautiful breasts waiting to be fed to him. As his movements took over his mind, Keegan threw away the unhandy cloth, lunged forward to nibble the sides of your chest; his tongue circled each, constantly retreating to bounce them in his hands, making satisfying noises while latching on them again and again, non-stop.

“C’mon, don’t be shy” You cocked your head down to your chest, beckoning the younger person who was drooling over your delicious rosy nipples.

Keegan was indeed a good boy when you didn't have to repeat, shoving his face right into one of your bosoms without wasting anymore time. The first sensation you felt was his lips; he kissed them, then kept pinching and rotating them around with his teeth, prompting you to growl at the sting he brought. His fingers massaged the other one, taking good care of both sides equally, just like that - the boy was too devoured into you. However, that was still not enough. With a 'pop' as Keegan released you, he lifted your breasts and pulled them in, pointing your nipples towards the middle of your chest. Warm, pink tongue deftly rolled up and down, in between, wrapping around your buds. He twirled it, circled it around your hard nipples; lusty saliva was way too audible, irresistible ecstasy clenched your legs together and you kept pushing your chest harder to his face. 

“F-fuck…you’re doing so good -ha- so good” And he glazed his teeth tighter, “Yes! Fuckin— just like that pretty boy”

Your fingers reaching the boy's scalp, your nails clasped and lightly scratched his cleanly shaven nape, evoking more sinful groans from Keegan. His orbs, dilated with need, blown wide to meet yours, and his lashes fluttered somewhat, as though he wanted you to keep praising him. 

The thought of Keegan focusing on you as if you're a goddess, a faith, to be treasured and worshiped only by him, gave you chills.

Tilting your head back, your own feverish thoughts had heightened your arousal yet left the younger person unfulfilled.

“Tch…no” Keegan let go of your breasts, cupping your cheeks with both of his hands and pulling your face back into its place, “No, no….why’re you turning away, mommy? Keep those eyes on me, let me see…let me see them piercing a hole into my soul”

Trailing his strong, muscular arms down your lower body, Keegan grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him. The suddenness of your knees buckled by your shoulders, exposing the glistening pussy dragged a quite loud yelp out of your lips. As your back sank down the divan cushions, your midsection had been folded in and the stomach rolls which always gave you insecurity made you hesitant to keep extending your legs. So you attempt to sit up, how on earth did Keegan allow that?

“I know what you’re thinking mommy, and I don’t give a fuck ‘bout that” The boy spoke, maintaining his intense eyes on you.

“I want you to own me, treat me like your fucking slave, use me as much as you fucking want, yeah?” He spitted on your cunt, making you moaned out like a bitch in heat. “I’m your little slut” he grunted, “I’m your little toy….I am, I am, fucking just for you” he whispered, teeth gritted as he punctuated on each word.

The boy kissed your ankle, bent down and nibbled on the back of your thighs and the sides of your buttocks. His large palms greedily caressed your asscheeks, not forgetting to add a few spanks.

“Use me, give me fucking confidence….give me a will to live, mommy” He plead, “Give me that fucking pussy”

All your embarrassment has vanished into thin air, leaving only devastating elation. And Keegan, who had been waiting for that, launched himself at your glistering cunt and immediately became addicted to the taste of your arousal. He lavishly covered your entire pussy with open-mouth kisses, his lips pressed firmly and gulping nonstop, smearing your juices all over his visage and down to your asshole, getting some fucking prohibited moans out of you.

The younger then stopped, long enough to take in your beautiful two holes close up as he examined the sweet long slit.

“Lemme sniff on it”  He inhaled the sweet, musky scent of your cunt, “Let your boy breathe on it, mommy, lemme look at it twitching for me”

Your body responded instinctively, pussy quivering beneath his heated breaths. Before you realized it, he had already let go of your legs to fully spread out your folds and was burying his face against your bare cunt once more. His nose nudged above your entrance and his tongue began to work in seconds, sinking and churning the inside of you. 

“Oh fu— YES, more Keeg….more” Your body trembled violently as your desire for additional pleasure grew, reaching out to clutch on him.

Keegan’s four fingers pressed firmly on your lower abdomen as he began to lick up and down your slit while using his thumb which was only inches above your pearl to pull the folds around away. And when your hood moved away, the boy finally had your blood-swollen clit sitting there in front of his lust blown pupils. It’s puffy, aching and throbbing. It’s calling for him, he assured that. Receiving your loud moans as an encouragement, Keegan softly hummed directly on your rock hard clit as he continued to stimulate your hole by landing his tongue against it. His digits buried deeply inside your pussy and he increased the pace, pumping in and out, rotating them, and curling them so as they scratched your walls vigorously.  

Without backing down, the younger one flicked his tongue, rubbing it up and down unforgivingly on your pearl. You jointed and fought to squirm out of Keegan's hold, only to be held back by him as his teeth bit down. You were too fucked out when his lips swallowed on your clit, thighs began to squeeze either side of his head due to the fantastic feeling.

“Mhm hmm, that’s it….” The boy continued to work his tongue and fingers on you as quickly as possible, “That’s my mommy, c’mon, keep squeezing me with those thighs….yeah, stare at me -uhm- stare at your pretty boy as he eat your pussy out”

Those fucking praises and the way he avaricious desire to attain your climax at all costs as a reward has successfully pushed you to the edge. The familiar hot cramping in your womb beneath your lower belly was fleeting for just a moment and then your scream of satisfaction came out, your hands clamped down on Keegan's head above your cunt to jerk your hips on his naughty mouth, riding out your high.

“Fuck…f-fuck” Your chest heaved rapidly, “You’re a fucking beast”

“And you did not let me go, tho I’m not intending to pull away either” The boy peered up with the shit-eating grin on his face before lowering down to smooch around your cunt one last time.

You giggled as Keegan scattered a trail of kisses all over your physique. Your lips, your navel, and your collarbone. You additionally show your gratitude by tucking your arms around his solid shoulder blades, lifting him above you to prolong the passionate kiss.

Exquisite - the divine taste of your release from his mouth, delicate - the way your lips clung firmly, and submerged - the way your tongues entwine without separating.

The moment was short lived since your waist was scraped by something stiff. You winced a little as you recoiled from the kiss, peered down, and were enchanted to catch a glimpse of Keegan's manhood - it was just... gorgeous. Only when you two pressed right against each other did the freshly shaven pubic hair of his gave you a nice itchy sensation. Your pelvises were adhered together so you could gauge the length, and the tip of his cock, which was already partially hard, was leaking precum onto your stomach. 

“Satisfied?” Keegan lifted his brows and inquired when he noticed you gulping and staring at his lower torso.

You beamed up at the younger one, stretching down to grab his ass, “I promise to make a sculpture of it”

The boy's low and seductive laugh was suppressed when he forced retained his breath while your grip moved lightly to position him directly in front of your awaiting cunt, not before brushing his head to gather the most of your slick. As a gesture to allow him to climb up to kneel on the divan, your other elbow pushed down to slightly elevate the center of your body up a bit. 

“Ready?” 

Keegan only gave you a brief kiss on your temple and leaned your foreheads together without saying anything. The two of you seemed to share the same breath, holding together when he plunged into you and exhaling together as he truly bottomed out. Your own eyes blurred with the startling fullness he provided you with.

“You’re so warm mommy, fuck, too warm” The younger hissed through a barely contained growl. 

Swallowing hard, you shifted your airflow and wiggled your hips in an attempt to adjust with the new intrusion. Fortunately, you're not an imposing person. Little by little, your pussy gradually loosened and accepted him, and his head flew back as his unwavering control slipped inch by inch, not so different from the way his shaft was slowly entering you.

“Move, love, need to feel you deep inside me” 

Sheathing Keegan deeper into you, you purposefully pressed your hips against his, whispering into his ear. For a few while, the younger one remained idling, realizing that you were showing him the sweet spots inside you. So whenever you heard him mewling like a horny dog, biting upon your lower lip gently as he felt your walls fluttered around him. You knew he was memorizing for his own pleasure, as well as that of you.

Failing to bear it any longer, Keegan sat up and tenderly pulled out his manhood. At first, you assumed him to be gentle, but you were incredibly naive. He struck with such ruthlessness that your breath left your lungs in a passionate symphony of his name and contented moans. Angling your legs on one side of his shoulder, Keegan caged your thighs with both of his arms and pinned them there. His pace was too rough, and the tension that followed made it simpler to sense the boy's steadfast heartbeat as your skin rested smoothly on his broad chest. 

“Keeg– Keegan, shit…” 

Keegan knelt in front of you - hair slightly damp from perspiration that partially stuck to his forehead and partially dangled with the tempo of his body's movements, those massive biceps, muscular legs, and taut waist all flexed as he hammered into your core. The room's dim lighting and your glassy eyes granted the younger person the appearance of a finely sculpted statue, an unreal portrait.

Fuck, “You look so beautiful, oh my beautiful boy”

I knew it might be an exaggeration but here, is your Björn Johan Andrésen. Exclusively yours.

“Ha–ah….yours, I’m all yours” With an ominous grin, Keegan drew forward to murmur, "And you're also mine, right?"

However, you were so engrossed in the pleasure that you failed to respond. That explained why the person above suddenly pulled back, leaving you there clenching around nothing. When you started to prop yourself up, he swiftly folded you in half, locking you in that position.

“Put your co—”

“Nah….you’re gonna say it” With one hand, Keegan pressed your knees to your chest while the other was lazily stroking his cock. Glazing the tip so damn nigh to your bloated entrance.

“For fuck sake, of course I’m yours” You huffed out, “As if any fucking cock could ever allowed to be inside me”

Surely the younger one's erection had returned because a lustful stupor hit you as his pelvis immediately slammed into your plump ass. Up to the hilt. He had reached your cervix with the tip of his cock, ache yet madly numb.

“You’re my mommy, my mistress, my fucking big tough mistress aren’t ya?” He eagerly pounding into you, in a more primal way, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckkk…..you’re so damn hot when you’re mad, y’know that?”

“Yeah?” You smirked.

“Fucking yeah”

The harder Keegan pounded into you, the louder the moans of you both came to a crescendo, almost at the peak. Since you knew you wouldn't be able to hold off for much longer, you had to encircle him more tightly with your legs, flutter your walls, and swallow his cock more deeply to ensure that his body would soon follow you.

“You're gonna cum mommy? Yeah, yeah, cum for me mommy, cum, cum, cum” Keegan shifted down and rubbed your swollen clit with great effort, making you cry as his finger plucked nonstop on it.

The younger person's chants ended with a growl from both you and him. He replaced his shaft with his thick digits, slipping out barely in time since you didn't have a condom. You both focused on the earth-shattering orgasm, on how his cock twitched in his palm and on his ropes of hot seed shooting onto your abdomen, dripping down to your wide-opened cunt, unable to stop.

Swore that you two had never felt so euphoric.

You laid limp under his sight, eyes flooded in darkness as you looked to the drop of sweat slowly leaving his chin then down to your navel, mixed together with his cum. 

Keegan collapsed on top of you, head buried into your neck. His weight was comforting, and as your fingers trailed to your lower body, you collected the white thick texture there and brought it to your lips, sticking out your tongue to taste then smiled with a satisfied hum. 

"I want to draw you like this" The boy stared upward at you, smiling brightly.

“Should take a photo too, in case you mess up and let me down for posing for you” Keegan tickled you when you kissed him on the lips in response to your cruel mocking.

Having said that, you still truly want to see his painting - of you, what it'll turn out once completed. 

Taglist: @shadowlali , @ghostlythots , @fl3xgio (is it alright if i add you?? 😫😫) , @brickwall035 (saw u a lot on my posts, wondering if i can add u?? 👉🏻👈🏻)

[akiraak4]

Champagne, Cocaïne,Gasoline

A/N: This is my first time posting on this website, but I thought, why not? It is inspired by Don't Threaten Me with a Good Time by Panic! at the Disco. I do not own the character Cú Chulainn, yada, yada, yada, English is not my first language and all. CW: self-destructive behaviour,(slight) addiction, misuse of drugs and alcohol, drunk driving, self-harming behaviour, depression Wordcount: 2500 Underlying Cú Chulainn x Reader PART 1| PART 2

You jolted awake, a haze before your eyes, a siren whaling in your ears. Your throat leaves a groaning sound of pain as your eyes try to focus on something - anything at all if you will. Nothing seems to be in your reach, as you try to grab something as you work your way to stand, but falter and end up on the ground again. Your knees are like pudding and your fingers have no feeling to them. Your brain is pounding in your skull and you shakily exhale - letting the exhaustion get a grip on you again.

But this is not the beginning of this story. This is rather the end of it - if we would have followed a common structure.

And you weren't the one to tell either.

.

.

.

He has unusually taken form as a Berserker. Some factors of his summoning also caused all of his equipment to change and reversed his temperament. His expressions become cold, and the crimson demonic spear that is his Noble Phantasm has been mixed with darkness, overflowing with a foreboding aura.

.

.

.

Cú Chulainn Alter was your servant long enough by now to have a grasp on your behaviour - even though, you rather should have had a sight over his madness. After all, it seems like he is the one who has to have an eye on you most of the time. You have surrounded yourself with some of the most absurd servants, he could have imagined. Mostly because they are so engulfed in their own worlds - and their ideals - that it sickens him to even watch them. You always look a bit exhausted, but even if asked (by one of the few kind souls your summons have answered), you just dismiss the call by ignoring them or just saying that your mana was drained. But this was not the case at all. Your resources of mana were hilariously huge and no one really needed that much energy to sustain themself. 

The mad king was by your side - like most of the time (probably because he was your go-to servant). His crimson eyes follow your every move. You've pulled out your phone and texted someone. The profile picture was the same as the days before and he had concluded, that you have been texting with someone - very regularly and mostly frantic, jabbing texts into your phone like a maniac. But this time, your moves were a lot more controlled as you let your phone fall. He did not bother trying to catch it and watched as the screen broke, diagonally through the middle. 

Your message cannot be delivered. You have been blocked by this number. 

.

.

You were chugging your who-knows-how many shots, in some derelict bar you'd found on the way to who-knows-where. The berserker was still next to you - in a tight-fitting black suit he got a while ago. Most of his more macabre features had vanished - mostly his tail, which would hinder him from following you. But the crimson tattoos were still under his eyes and on his arms, as he rolled up his sleeves. His muscular features got rid of most of the crazy humans that were trying to hit on you in your current state of drunken daze - and those who even dared to walk in your direction went away faster than a flash after he snarled his canines towards them.

You have had enough of being betrayed by the ones you liked, your allies. You felt like a wounded animal, but instead of licking your wound, you turned towards the things, you yearned for most of your life after pain was inflicted onto you - the rush of alcohol, the numbness of everything and the happiness that comes with a little help of a line or two. 

A happy grin was stretched wide over your face as you took another shot, but as you pointed at your empty shot glass, the barkeep just shook his head, denying you your next drink. A snort of annoyance escaped you. You turn on your heel, the world twisting a bit too much as you walk straight to the door - or what you thought of as a straight line - your servant (of course) right behind you, following your every step.

The engine of the sports car roared as you speeded down the street, not really caring about the thought that you could cause an accident or die while driving in this state. The berserker next to you also seems to not give a single fuck about the way you drove the streamlined car. After a short while of driving you found the next best thing - a high-society nightclub, you have visited maybe once or twice in your life. You passed by the line of peasants and right into the club - the bodyguard just watched you puzzled as he was pushed aside by the mad king, who followed you into the club. The club was busted with people, dancing skin-on-skin and some sketchy guy was passing on little sachets in exchange for fat roles of cash.  You walk towards the bartender, pointing out a bottle of absinthe and try your best to negotiate a price, but in the end, you just paid a whole bunch more than you could imagine. Take a sip from the high-percentage alcohol, letting it burn down your throat as you walk to the sketchy guy, offering him a bundle of cash. The man slowly fumbled in his jacket: "Babe, if you go on, you might pass out in a drain pipe", he mumbled, taking the cash in exchange for the little bag, while you just grinned, taking another big sip.

"Oh yeah, don't threaten me with a good time"

The mad king was very much not amused as you stumbled out of your car, into the bar and basically threw your money at the barkeep as you took the booze. You were high and drunk - and you still wanted more, it seems like this, as you were taking a strange bag from this peasant. He snorts in annoyance. What were you thinking? The absinthe in your hand and the drugs, in the neckline of your dress, are hidden from sight as you walk into a corner of the club, scaring away the people that sat and letting yourself fall onto the couch as your servant took his place next to you. He was very unpleased with your behaviour. But alas, he could not change your mind right now as you start to chug down the burning liquor. You cross your legs, one hanging in the air as your eyes cloud even more, getting dull by the minute as you put down the booze. An exhausted sigh leaves your mouth as he inhales your liquor-stained breath. It was really disgusting. You slowly close your eyes, exhaustion seems to take over your body and he is ready to get you back home. His eyes wander over the crowd, but stop as he hears the sound of you opening the little bag and inhaling it content before taking another big sip. The crimson of his eyes was on you as you stood up, headed toward the dance floor.

You were thrown out of the club again - not really sure why - as you stumbled towards your car, opening the side of the driver, falling halfway in, as you thought you'd throw up into your own lap, but pulled yourself together as you watched Cú Chulainn get into the passenger seat, still smooth and with a stoic, calm face, watching you pull out of the parking lot and onto the empty street. You drove like a mad lad through the streets and stopped at a gas station after you noticed the low of your tank. You grabbed the fuel faucet and started to pump gas, after missing the tank the first time (you really wanted to throw up at the smell of gasoline on your dress, but you didn't). But you got it after some trying - much to the displeasure of the man behind the counter. He yelled at you, something about wasting precious resources but he was silent after you smacked some hundred dollar bills onto the counter and left, the clacking sound of your small heels followed you as you sat back into the car. Your eyes wander towards your servant - or were there two of them? Since when did you have two Cú Chulainns in your front seat? "Ah, fuck it", your voice sounded strange to yourself, a troubled mumble while you start the car - starting off with too much speed, making the car jump forwards before you got to the right speed. Your fingers just loose over the steering wheel, letting it slip from your grip as you drift off the empty road. Luckily for you, you were out of town and Alter pulled the wheel straight, grunting slightly. You're letting fully go off the steering wheel as you push the gas pedal down to the ground. Your servant seems a bit in distress or confused as he steers the wheel to drive. You start laughing - you never thought he would do that (you really believed, he would have let you drive into your death, but to be honest with yourself, you forgot he was her for a while). After some time, your laughter died off and as you arrived in the new city you let go of the gas pedal, bringing the car to an unpleasant halt as it died off, stuttering and in the middle of the road.

Cù Chulainn Alter was kinda exhausted as he was technically forced to drive for you at this high speed until you just - stopped. He was confused as to why you suddenly were so eager to get out of the car but followed you after turning off the car and taking the key (just in case). You've stumbled towards a guy in a chiffon skirt, muttering some words of exchange, he could not hear as he stepped up, being next to you again, as you started to empty a beer bottle. He would have been impressed with the speed you tried to do it, but it took not too long, before you nearly suffocated yourself, as the beverage poured all over your chest as you tried to breathe for a short while. The stranger smiled wide as he handed you a pair of hot pink high heels. You on the other hand were not that happy as you slipped off your original shoes and put on the heels. You were a bit wobbly at first, trying not to fall, as you started laughing with the stranger, leaving the mad king very confused, you turned around and waved your goodbyes, walking away wobbly, trying not to break your ankles while walking. Still laughing, you started twirling. It was probably far past midnight and it was way too cold, even though it was summer, the nights were still freezing. And you only got a dress on. Cú Chulainn sighted, as he changed into his ordinary outfit - seemingly out of nowhere his armour was back in place, the big fur coat hung in bright crimson red over his shoulders and his tail slowly swung from the right to the left. Glancing over at you he clicked his tongue as he threw his coat over you. You stumbled and nearly tipped over from the sudden weight added to your small frame, as you threw the coat off your shoulders. 

A grunt escaped you, captured by surprise as Alter threw his coat over you, leading you to stumble and nearly fall over with the heels. You tossed the coat back to your servant, grunting in annoyance. "Leave me the fuck alone", you hissed. Stomping away, your servant still on your heel. Your mind was misted by the rush of the alcohol and the drugs you took. Gripping harder onto the bottle of beer you still got from the stranger. You've had enough of the play of sympathy and fake affection people try to throw in your direction to lure you in. Only to break you and throw you away, after they got tired of you. "I said fuck off!", you yelled, throwing the bottle at the berserker, who dodged it smoothly. "If I would 'fuck off' you would die", he said - probably the first words he said the whole night. "And if so. I don't fucking care, okay? Just - just let me die then", you hissed, ending in an exhausting sight, turning your back to the servant, starting to move forward again. Tears started to pool in your eyes as you slowly dragged one foot in front of the other. Slightly sniffing as you wipe away the wetness of your eyes. "As if anybody would care", you mumble. Clearly, your up was over and you've hit rock bottom - or it feels like this as you keep walking, ignoring the servant behind you. 

After a while, you found yourself back in another bar, but it was not too long and the barkeeper told you they would soon close. After a short discussion, you've got a bottle of booze to take with you as you left the bar behind you. Again stumbling through the streets of a strange city you didn't know. You were exhausted and really just wanted to lay down, or sit down or something like that...  Another big sip emptied the bottle in your hand. You shook the bottle, disappointed from the sudden loss of your last joy as your eyes started to wander over the place. No one was there. No one. Not even your servant. Strange. He really just went away after all. He probably was tired of taking care of such a useless master, who could not even take proper care of herself and turned to drugs and alcohol to wash away the problems that towered over her. A sad sight escaped your mouth as you turned to walk again, but you stopped.

"Take a seat, master"

The berserker stood next to a shopping cart, the chain that normally holds the carts together was ripped apart. His huge coat laid out in the cart as his crimson eyes wandered over your sad figure. You were not moving, just holding back miserable tears. He stepped into action, picking you up and laying you down into the cart, carefully warping the crimson coat over your shivering figure. Your eyes were matt and dull, exhausted from the small bit of world you've got to see. But that small part of the world was not really kind towards you and it just ate you up and spat you out again. He pitied you, as your eyes moved to hover over his huge frame, which seemingly took over your whole vision. 

"The world is no kind place for such a soul as yours.

 But no worry, master. 

My spear will never fail you."

[darklyndivinely]

Mirrors of Night - A Regret So Deep

Fandom(s) - Obey Me!

Character(s) - Lucifer

Warnings - Angst and sad!Luci

Wordcount - 600+

A/N - I've wanted to write this for a while. And tbh idk what this is. Originally this was supposed to be a letter but it ended up being a diary entry instead. I wanted it to be more angsty but *shrugs* maybe I'll make this a series or something, tell me if you'll like that. Also please don't ask me about the title, I just wanted it to be that. Enjoy a father's agony!

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September 15, 2022. 2:32 AM

It has been a while since I’ve written an entry like this. Events leading to emotional turmoil have been rare, but today I couldn’t resist penning down my thoughts.

While going through the trunk in my room I came across many of our family albums. One in particular really pushed me across the stream of memories. It was filled with Satan’s childhood pictures. He is so young in them, naïve, free. His eyes big with curiosity and mischief. I suppose that is something that time has been unable to change. He’s still just as curious and naughty.

Looking through them affected me more than I had anticipated. I have clicked many of these pictures, flipped through this album a dozen times, and yet, today, upon going through it again all the emotions swept over me with a frenzy.

There’s so much happiness in these pictures, moments of genuine laughter frozen in time. All of us look so young, less weary and coiled. And yet, there’s also a sadness in these captured memories. A raw grief recognizable in every alternate picture. A grief that is very much like mourning.

When Satan had been born, more than five millennia ago, I had felt no love for him. I was in pain and aching severely, I had also been in anger but by then Satan had taken and absorbed most of it. In the absence of that explosive emotion all that was left was guilt and my raw and bleeding soul. We had failed and fallen into a realm so different than what we were used to. We had been condemned and cast away and it was all my fault. I didn’t know how to cope with that.

For a while the date of his birth was synonymous with pain. He, himself, was synonymous with pain. A living, breathing reminder of all we had lost, all we had become. For a while the sight of his full grin and bright eyes were the trigger to the phantom pain in my scars. The sight of him used to tear open the scars of wings he had been shaped from. He was the personification of the wretched horns on my head, the dark color of my wings, the filthy thing I had become.

Then, with time, things changed. The searching touch of his fingers on my eyes didn’t seem so annoying anymore and his wheezes of joy became the reason I woke up every day. Reading bedtime stories to lull him to sleep became a peaceful tradition and the sight of the excited swishing of his tail started to bring me immense joy. He loved the bumps on my horns and feel of my feathers against his palm, and so I started to appreciate this new existence I had been granted.

There was still a glaring chasm of loneliness in all of us, the absence of our eighth member was consuming. Satan lessened it though, that loneliness that we were all drunk on. Recognizing that same loneliness in these pictures brings me regret now. I should have savored the closeness of him sooner, not spent so much time despising his mere existence. He was but a child, my child.

Today we are farther apart than I could have ever fathomed. So much distance separates us, animosity like no other piercing it. Sometimes, I wonder exactly when we fell apart. When exactly did all the love turn into such bitterness.

At the end of the day, however, he is family. Child or brother, he will always be family. Protected from afar. Loved from afar. I just wish things were different. I just wish I were different.

Like this? Leave a tip as appreciation! My entrance results are gonna be out soon so any help is appreciated <3 Also fill this to be notified on my future works.

[bluenpjm]

ganadara ❀ hoseok x oc

Ⓒ bluenpjm — all rights reserved. do not repost, translate or claim as your own.

synopsis.  as if it was destined, a connection as simple as ABC.

genre.  slice of life au ; dancer!hoseok ◦ fluff

pairing.  JHS x OC

wordcount. 899

warnings.  adorable hoseok ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

a/n. happy birthday to the iconic @narimiese~ the only person with whom i am willing to share hobi (i am not kidding) may your life be as glamorous and filled with light as you deserve! Thank you for being here since day one! ♡

It had become a constant in Hoseok’s day. Unlike the majority of people, he hated the weekends — especially because he couldn’t see her. The girl that worked in the store in front of his dance studio. He even had to change his routine to be able to see her more often. 

It was foolish, now that he thought about it. 

4 months had already passed since the first time he ever laid eyes on her. Fixing a more than broken mannequin and trying her best to tie its falling arm with some necklaces. In the end, the fit ended up looking more unique than anything in the store. 

He loved it. It was way up his alley. 

And ever since, he had this weird sensation in the bottom of his stomach. The first couple of days, he had nagged his best friend about the possibility of being extremely sick, as he counted the days until he could no longer escape the visit to the E.R. 

Despite how much he thought, he couldn’t pinpoint what had been that had left him that sick. Until he saw her again. This time closing up the shop. Her hair was tied in a messy ponytail as the straps of her bag kept on pushing her buttons, constantly falling from her shoulder. It all made sense now. He was feeling butterflies. 

In his mind, he knew a lot about her. 

After all… he did find her on social media. Her feed filled with cute pictures of cafés and showing her impeccable outfits. She was classy and artsy and he was dying to talk to her. 

Sunday morning meant that he would not see her. Usually, Hoseok would constantly look around. Fate, maybe? Today, in lieu, he focused on the task ahead of him: finding a gift for his friend. 

“He just moved into a new house, so I wanted something that he would actually want but that wasn’t that much of a big deal…” Hoseok rambles on to the staff he had mindlessly stopped in the midst of rearranging some products on the shelves. 

“Why don’t you take a look around? I’ll be with you in a minute.” The smile shown is weak and Hoseok nods, him too forcing a smile before strolling along deep into the store. 

He wandered aimlessly with his hands stuffed inside the pockets of his baggy jeans. The store had a little bit of everything and perhaps that much variety made the task at hand even more challenging. 

“Does your friend like music?” The voice startles him and as Hoseok turns around, his eyes widen, mouth agape as he isn’t able to form a single word. “I think music is always a thoughtful gift…” 

Swiftly, the girl moves her fingers along the records in front of her. Lifting her gaze, she smiles at Hoseok. 

“I’m Nari. Kim Nari.” 

“I- hum,” For a moment, Hoseok almost feels starstruck. Clearing his throat, he manages to speak. “I’m Hoseok,” A strident laugh falls from his lips, the nerves getting the best of him. “But my friends call me Hope.” 

“So, Hope…” The playful smile on the girl’s lips makes his heart twirl. “What kind of music does your friend like?” 

“Well… Taehyung is a wild card… He listens to everything, really.” Pressing his lips together, the girl’s eyes fall on the little dimple that shows on the dancer’s features. 

Humming, Nari takes her eyes off Hoseok so she can focus on the records in front of her for a second. “What about… Golden Link? I’ve been addicted.” 

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of them…” 

“Do you want to listen to it? I have most of the songs from their new album on my playlist.” Nari offers, already searching her bag for her earphones.

“Yeah! Should we– hum– go grab a coffee or something?” Hoseok lets out a nervous laugh. 

Crossing the street, they enter the small coffee shop and order before directing themselves to a table on the esplanade. The soft morning sun felt cozy against their skins and they scotched closer. The first music begins to play and by the time their order is delivered to the table, Hoseok had lost focus on the tracks. His eyes fell solely on the bronzed skin of the girl standing only a couple of centimeters from him. 

Fate really brought us together… Yoongi would never believe him. 

“So?” Removing her earpiece, a smile adorns her lips. “What do you think?” 

“Beautiful,” Hoseok speaks softly, quickly snapping out of the trance he was trapped in. “They have really good songs, I mean. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Her smile reaches her eyes now and Hoseok feels his heart melt. 

The girl begins to gather her belongings, getting ready to get up from her seat. Hoseok mimics her actions. “Do you think I could get your number?” Yoongi would be proud now. 

And for the first time, she is thrown off guard, surprised. “Mine?” 

“Yeah–” Eyes widen and he feels droplets of sweat beginning to form on his forehead. 

“You got it.” Watching her leave, Hoseok wants nothing more but to jump up and down, feeling victorious. And if he was buying that album? Of course. He just needed to make another stop before storing the precious memory in a vinyl-shape in his home. He still needed to find a gift for his friend…

[the-laridian]

What's the process of creating a new character/OC like for you?

This ended up being a LOT of writing XD

I figure the best way is to give a couple of examples: Langley (The Outer Worlds) and Volkov (original work, "BDVV" in the daily wordcounts).

Langley was originally created as a side character for the Bad Trip sequel (still named Crossover as of this writing). I needed some extra characters to be part of Felix’s ship crew. Langley’s original character concept was: young, blond, fanboy. That’s literally all I had.

Most of my characters start out rather unfleshed like that, actually. I hate to create their entire history and backstory and all their personal details and thoughts from the start. I prefer to let them form organically.

In Langley’s case, I don’t even remember how I came up with his name! But I did decide he wrote fanfiction - why not? He’s a fanboy, right? In this case, fanboy over Rowan (as the mysterious Captain Dane who appears to be such a threat to Halcyon) and then Felix (who is also super cool and goes on more adventures).

But as I wrote Langley in Crossover, I realized he had to meet Rowan sometime during Bad Trip - so I wrote him into the Tartarus prison break-in. Which meant I had to come up with his occupation. UDL, of course; and you know what? Janitor, like Rowan was, except (as like Rowan) with a fancy title.

Playing around with the concept of “Langley writes fanfiction” and a side essay I wrote about the state of Halcyon fandom (which is to say, Halcyon fandom is terrible), I created Langley’s “internet friends” of fanboys and fangirls.

I still couldn’t tell you what Langley looks like, I don’t have a faceclaim for him, but I can picture him by way of his personality. I also don’t have much more of his backstory than that he’s a UDL janitor-turned-spaceship-crew-and-aspiring-author, but that’s really all he needs. He’s fun, he’s an upbeat character. Maybe a little naive, but probably also the kind that would jump into a fight on your side without a second thought.

Volkov started the other way: with a faceclaim.

Volkov’s concept (Soviet/Russian agent in a Cold War setting) came from a different work of mine, but I revamped him for this one. I found a picture of a Russian man with very intense eyes, and bam: this is the new Volkov. My cowriter (@porkwithbones) noted “wow, those are some intense eyes” so that too is part of his description.

Volkov’s story is set in an alternate universe and it’s 1973; he primarily works in Persia (Iran) and the “Iron Wall” (that universe’s Iron Curtain). Naturally this meant I had to do at least some research on this area even if this fic is purely for fun and will likely never be published.

At one point Volkov mentioned something about the country of Georgia (part of their USSR-equivalent). PWB leapt on that with their character noting, aha, yes, Volkov does seem to have a bit of an accent.

I thought: you know what? Yes. He’s Georgian now. And his family Russified quickly to avoid ethnic persecution or worse when the armies of liberation showed up. So now he has some more backstory; I decided his parents are still alive, too, but he’s an only child (because I like to limit the cast I have to work with if possible).

As a coincidental part of the story, Volkov and his future romantic partner (he didn’t know it then) end up talking about animals, and I then decided: Volkov’s favorite animal are elephants. He’s an elephant nerd. Thinks they’re the coolest thing ever. Also he’s into wildlife photography but in a hobbyist sense (because at the time I needed him to be doing something outdoorsy).

This later enabled Volkov and his romantic partner (once they became that) to easily find each other: meet at the elephant enclosure in the city zoo, if they happen to be in the same city.

So by now, I have his career (undercover agent), some backstory (grew up functionally Soviet Russian), some hobbies (Elephants! Photography!) and having written some more of the story just before writing this essay - he’s got a taste for Middle Eastern food. Not really a foodie or a gourmet, just he likes it and enjoys it. And I have his faceclaim.

You can see here, I start with very loose ideas of the character concept - a look, a personality trait - and build on it, adding to it organically as the story progresses and I come up with things I like. If these are to be published, it does mean some rewriting to correct the earliest parts, to make them consistent with later work.

But I vastly prefer this to coming up with everything at the very beginning, before writing. If I had to come up with Volkov’s interests at the start? I couldn’t do it. I know, because I’ve had those “here’s 100 things to create about your character!” worksheets, and it doesn’t work. I don’t care what their birthday is just yet, and I don’t know what their favorite childhood memory is. It’ll come to me as I need it.

If you’re curious about any other character, feel free to ask!

[kalinjdra]

For the ask game! 31 and 37!! 😄

hehe! i shan't shut up now :) 31. Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

Ohohohohoho, I am a firm believer that canon is my sandbox that I am free to play with however I wish! I will twist canon in my hands like silly putty >;3c Personally, I will incorporate things from canon if I think they're cool or under-rated and I go out of my way to read source materials and nonfiction just to make my writing more grounded. Currently reading the War Games just to know *how* to change it for a fic (mutter mutter why do i do this to myself...) So yeah! I love a good canon compliant fic once in a while but I most often kick it straight to the curb :)

37. Talk about your current wips.

-Questionable Decisions: this is a short little oneshot that ive plotted out about JayTim, proposals and accidental baby acquisition. I have like 12 scenes for that and no idea what the wordcount will be. My main problem writing it currently is that the characters get drunk but I have minimal experience in that so I don't know how to write :( buts its okay there's always other stuff to work on -Triple Trouble side fics: I have side fics planned out for my series TT which is a TodoDeku ABO fic (with minimal ABO) and kids. ...I really like sudden child acquisition, okay? Anyways, I ended up finishing the "main" fic which is about Izuku's kids (3 of them hence the name lol) getting kidnapped form camp, Todoroki's agency is in charge of handling it and literally everyone goes like "uhhhh yo these kids more or less look like you or your siblings" and then yeah meetcute stuff where the main couple doesn't even *meet* each other until the last chapter. Very on brand for me lol. Anyyyyways I promised a few one-shots for the series consisting of: Christmas fic, Baby Shouto fic, TodoDeku first meeting fic, and Moving In fic. This was around Christmas time so I was going to do that first. I did /NOT/ end up actually writing them, though Christmas fic has a valiant start and will probably be a two-shot where they celebrate Christmas with Izuku's side of the family and New Years' with Shouto's side of the family. Hm. There is a surprising amount of worldbuilding for this series despite it only being 17k... -Reflection: this is Harry Potter grows up in Gotham fic! with minimal influence on the bats! this one is written... in an unusual style for me and I've been working for this one for about a year or so? its currently only 6k but its a little past the trolls scene and I want to finish 1st year before I post it. the one song that encapsulates this fic is Eight by Sleeping At Last. anyways here's a snippet :) ---

hari potter grows up in gotham. 

it changes nothing. (it changes everything.) ---

hari potter smiles shyly under the floating candles. his green eyes seem luminescent with the reflection of golden lights. his skin seems bronze, a picture perfect storybook hero cast from metal. these people desperately want a hero. a savior is all they see.

hari potter is a reflection. he adapts. he takes your expectations, your sterotypes and shows what you want to see.

after all, hari potter may be the boy-who-lived but he was a gothamite before that. ---

hari potter is swept under the inviting wing of gryffindor and why shouldn't he? he's a carbon copy of his father, after all. from his bird's nest hair, to his round glasses, to the way his nose slopes downwards.

hari potter is brave. he's saved all of britain from you-know-who! what else can he be other than a gryffindor? who else could face the greatest dark lord of their age! there are books about his death-defying stunts as a five year-old facing down a dracula, a novel about him destroying a cursed catacomb, a memoir about the adventures he's had. hari potter is brave.

(hari potter is brave. hari potter lived in gotham city. he's seen monsters come out of the sewers and has been mugged with a gun pressed to his temple. he remembers when the clown hid a bomb in the street over. he remembers seeing the cloud of dust flying outward, the slow collapse of the building. he remembers running, running so hard, hoping so hard to the edge of that rubble. pleasepleaseplease don't let him die. dig with bloody fingers and wiggle into tight crevasses. looking for a person, his very best friend majid. he remembers a firefighter dragging him away. five hours later, majid is carried out broken and blue. three days later, he attends the funeral. hari potter is brave.

hari potter is more than a cold halloween night.)

---

last but not least, Keystone: this is currently my largest and longest running fic and I literally posted the first chapter on a whim and a random person commented and encouraged so now here we are 10 chapters later. basic plot is Harry sends a letter to adult!Tim Drake because he really doesn't want to live with the Dursleys anymore, Tim essentially plans out a convoluted, multi step plan that has Jason pick up Harry from a train station to take him to a safe place (features: the Jewelry Protection Squad! cool gay vampire professors! Jason killing werewolves! and more!) Btw, the fic is currently on ch10 and the last 7 chapters have literally spanned the events of two days. I need help... anyways! I am currently writing a scene where Harry + Jason discuss with the Goblins about the Potter estate, land ownership and I get to hint at a larger but oppressed wizarding world! World building! From there, we might or might not get to the bunker where it'll be peace for Jason+Harry while they wait for the jewelry Protection Squad to do its thing. While that's happening, I'll be writing about what's going on Gotham and why Tim didn't just have Harry come over to Gotham. I am also currently reading War Games (and prbly No Man's Land later on) just to figure out how I can move around Keystone's Batclan characters and what might have changed and what stayed the same.

aaaand yah that's about it! thanks for asking! i really enjoyed talking about these :D

[letarasstuff]

Showing the Bird

(A/N): This was requested by an anon, I hope you have fun reading it!

Summary: Spencer's daughter always is quick to pick things up she shoudn't do, this includes a certain gesture with her hand and middle fínger.

Warnings: A kid showing her middle finger

Wordcount: 1.6k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________

Spencer is a technophobe. That’s why (Y/N) has limited access to any kind of electronics, which is a good thing for a three year old. The only sort she is allowed to use is the TV in the living room and even there her choices are limited to the several DVDs the little family owns and cable TV. Emily is in the process of persuading him to get a subscription to a streaming service for (Y/N)’s sake.

“Ok, Sweetheart. One hour of TV today before eating dinner and getting ready for bed, like we negotiated”, Spencer reminds his daughter before turning it on a kid’s channel. She nods, already engrossed by Peppa Pig hanging up on that sheep for being able to whistle.

Earlier the two Reids made a deal: If (Y/N) got all the states and their capitals right, she is allowed one hour of television. This may sound like he forced her to learn this information, but it’s really just a way to stimulate her brain and the toddler is eager to learn. Spencer only has to make it look like she has a gain in it.

The young doctor doesn’t like to leave his kid alone while watching TV. It’s not because he can’t leave her on her own for a few minutes. Spencer wants full control over what (Y/N) sees and what not. Especially he can tell what effects something has on a child and he doesn’t want her exposed to things she shouldn’t be subjected to at her age.

“Daddy, why are the animals talking to each other? I know they are translating all languages to us, but a pig speaks not sheep language.” Spencer is slightly baffled at her question. It’s mostly cute that she explains most things to herself in such a plausible way.

“Uhm, well Sweetheart. You have to-” Saved by the bell. Or more like the ring of his cellphone. Still he hesitates to get it. It’s Morgan, who probably calls because the team needs help with the case.

Spencer had to stay behind for this one, because he planned on taking his vacation days with (Y/N) to fly up to Las Vegas to visit her grandma. But Diana spontaneously took the opportunity to go on a trip with the sanctorium. Now the two do all the things they don’t have the time for in their regular day.

They already were at the aquarium, visited three different museums and even went to the movies once to watch the latest disney movie. Spencer really had to keep himself from pointing out the inaccuracies to not spoil (Y/N)’s fun.

Now the father debates taking the call. He doesn’t want to leave his daughter alone while the TV is on, but also doesn’t want to talk about a case right in front of her. The option of turning the TV off is also from the table, because this would be just plain mean.

So he answers it, afraid that the voicemail will turn on. “Hey Morgan, wait a second, I’ll have to leave the room”, then he puts his hand over the speaker and turns to the toddler. “Sweetheart, I have to talk to your Uncle Derek real quick. I’ll be right back.” She nods and goes back to her cartoon.

But while her father is in the room next door, the audio gets awfully quiet. Frustrated, because she isn’t able to understand properly what they are saying, (Y/N) looks for the remote. And there it is, waiting patiently for her and her little toddler hands.

But instead of turning the volume up, she accidentally changes the channel to an old cop movie. Curious about what is happening on the screen, the girl leaves it on for a few seconds. Upon entering a room, another man greets him with his middle finger raised. (Y/N) looks at her own and tries to copy that movement. On the third try she kind of gets it.

Getting bored of not knowing what the plot of the movie is, she turns it back on the cartoon she watched earlier and settles back down on her little chair next to the table full of books (Spencer put it there to avoid her sitting too close to the TV and straining her eyes while watching her shows, the distance is perfectly measured).

Just as (Y/N) sits down Spencer re-enters the living room, feeling relieved because he was able to help his team. “Hey Sweetie, is everything alright?” Happily she nods, showing him the bird.

Spencer’s face? Just imagine the shook Pikachu. “(Y/N)! You don’t do that! This is really mean!” He tells her in a stern voice. Where did she learn that from? He doesn’t know it, but the genius is almost a 100% sure she saw someone on the street doing it, (Y/N) always was quick to pick things like these up.

The toddler looks at him with a sad face, close to tears. “I-i-i didn’t know. I’m sor-sorry”, she says, beginning to cry. Oh no, this is not what Spencer was aiming for. “No no no, don’t cry. It’s alright. I’m not mad at you. You just don’t do this, people can get really hurt by your gesture.”

After calming her down, he thinks of something they can do outside of their apartment, to forget the little incident. “Do you wanna go to the office with me? All your aunts and uncles are going to get there soon and maybe we can go eat dinner with them?” Excited by the thought of seeing her family, (Y/N) nods and jumps up to get her own little go bag.

It’s a bright pre-packed backpack with small coloring books, normal books, pencils and other knick knacks she might need when she goes out with her father. The only thing that they have to put in is her favorite stuffed animal of the day. They call it like Spencer’s work bag, because the toddler once overheard the word at the office and refused to call it something different than his.

“Hey, look at who decided to give us a little visit!” Penelope exclaims as soon as the team leaves the elevator. (Y/N) tries to keep up with her preppy step, desperately holding onto her hand to not lose her.

As they finally come to a halt in front of everybody, the little girl smiles sweetly at them. “Hi”, she says in the most adorable voice. But instead of doing her usual wave, she raises her small hand with her middle finger standing out.

You just hear a faint “NOO!” and a crashing noise before Spencer comes along in a jog. He scoops his daughter up, looking her into the eyes. He takes a few steps away from where the team is standing.

“(Y/N), what did we say about this gesture”, he asks her in a serious tone. Instantly tears start to form in her eyes again, but Spencer knows he has to be strong now. “(Y/N), you have to stop doing it. It can really hurt people. Do you remember when Jason made fun of the braids Auntie Penelope put your hair in?” She nods.

Meanwhile the team stands awkwardly in the background, not knowing what to do. They never really witnessed the genius reprimanding his daughter in front of them. Though it’s not directly in front them.

“You were hurt by his words. The same is with the gesture you just made. We don’t do this to people, we don’t want to make them feel bad. Now, I don’t want to punish you, because you didn’t really know the meaning. Just apologize to your Aunties and Uncles. Next time you do it, there will be a hard no on TV for a week.”

Quickly wiping her eyes, the toddler mutters a small “Ok Daddy.” Spencer’s heart hurts a little at that, but he needed to be stern in this one.

She wiggles out of his grasp and slowly makes her way over to the others. (Y/N) gives each of them a hug, apologizing individually to them.

“So, who wants to see the new pictures of Sergio I got on my desk?” Emily asks in a cheerful tone to break the awkward tension. Immediately the girl takes upon that offer and bounces off to the desk with her godmother in tow.

Spencer still stands near the elevator, watching the interaction going down through the glass doors. Hotch pats him on the shoulder. “I know it’s difficult to be mad at them or strict even, but you did the right thing”, he reassures him briefly before making his way to his office. The genius smiles, as a parent you seldom get encouraging words about how you raise your child. It kind of feels like walking down a path with closed eyes. But on both sides are deep rivers with piranhas in them.

Derek takes a place beside his best friend. “You know, as serious as this is, it’s also as funny. I mean how she just smiled sweetly as a cupcake and deadass pulled her middle finger up like nobody’s business? My man, in your case I would keep a close eye on her during (Y/N)’s teen years.” Both laugh at the bizarre situation.

But luckily the toddler learned her lesson from this and stopped showing people the bird as a greeting. This is until she learns the next inappropriate thing, she should rather not do.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

Spencer Reid x child!reader:

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

[untaemedqueen]

Take One (M)

Pornstar!Yoongi x Fan Fiction Writer!Reader

Genre: Strangers To Lovers!AU, Smut, Fluff

WordCount: 24k

Warnings: Masturbation, Fingering, Big Dick!Yoongi, Slight Dom!Yoongi, Degradation (Slut, Cum Slut), Spanking, Sex Against A Wall, Unprotected Sex, Cream Pie, Phone Sex, Edging, Pussy Slapping, Daddy Kink, Hair Pulling, Cock Slapping, Cum Swallowing, Love Making, Marking, Body Worship, Cunnilingus, Face Fucking, Multiple Orgasms, Possessive!Yoongi, Forced Orgasm, Doggy Style, Impreg Kink

A/N: Again the biggest shout outs to my crew @ppersonna​​, @ladyartemesia​​, @xjoonchildx​​ who are constantly rooting for this fic to come out. I love my ladies so much!!!!!!!

There are three things which Yoongi was certain of. One, he was a big star in his field of work. Two, he had a huge cock, one to rival many of the largest names in his industry. Three, he can only find pleasure these days in written word. 

He has seen so many bodies in his career. So many different women and men that he cared very little for the human form. Now, written word where he could just simply envision a woman of his choosing doing what is described in twelve font Ariel Black ink. That is where he finds his pleasure.

He found himself after a long day on set, looking for mental relief. People make fun of his job, but it's incredibly taxing on one's spirit. He tried for years and years to be not only the best porn star in his field, but the most talked about. He succeeded after not too long, one utterly embarrassing title called 'Little Cat, Bowl of Milk' skyrocketed his success and had people coming back time and time again to his profile on all the major porn sites. He began to realize that success was eating at his bones. He so often found himself not being able to cum as he fucked his co-star half way to Sunday. 

It wasn't about being the greatest anymore, or having the biggest cock in the industry. It was about actually being able to cum without the prop team having to strap a tube on the underside of his cock and pump out this incredibly realistic looking paste that actually looks like jizz. It was practically degrading. And yet, Yoongi only found himself orgasming through reading. 

It was a random happenstance as he was scrolling online. Just looking at a few different blogs on Tumblr before finding a link in their biography stating 'Masterlist'. Finding himself intrigued he clicked on the link, the girl with the pen name Nevermore had countless series of books. She was great at writing, truly understanding her character's complexity and portraying it in such a way that had Yoongi constantly on the edge of his seat. But above all, the sex scenes she wrote were so erotic; so completely entrancing that he began to lose himself in her stories. He had never cum harder than before he read the words she so ardently wrote.

Jumping onto his couch, his feet find their place on the arm as his hand rests beneath his head. "I wonder what's up with Kyla and Bjorn today." He whispers to himself before sipping his beer. Every day of the week waits with bated breath to be Sunday. Nevermore publishes every Sunday at 8 o'clock and Yoongi never misses it. He will even stop a late filming just to read her new chapter. 

Stopping by her blog fills him with a sense of renewal. He first checks her updated page before anything else. She seemed to have an almost poetic soul within her, as if her fingers poured out earnest sentences with cryptic and riddled meaning. It's her latest post that catches his attention, first and foremost, before he can even click on the book's masterlist. He sips his beer as he peruses the post.

Coming Tuesday - Take One. 

Pornstar!Min Yoongi x Reader

Author's Note: I usually research heavily for smut to make it seem the most realistic as possible. I looked into porn to get a sense of what pornstars go through day to day and came across Min Yoongi. Eajsidicjeisoc HE'S UNBELIEVABLE! So the next book will be a fan fiction based on him. And believe me when I say I'M A FAN.

Beer goes flying out of his mouth. Sitting up quickly, his eyes widened at the text. 

"EXCUSE ME?!" He yells loudly before putting his hand over his mouth. 

A voraciously nervous giggle escapes him as his eyes flit to the popcorn ceiling. "Me? She's seen me?" He doesn't know whether to be astonished or incredibly flattered. He was a mere reader, one of the thousands that follow her blog and here he was being featured in one of her gorgeous stories. Would she write him like he is or turn him into a sex god? Someone completely void of feeling like Bjorn? Or someone absolutely brimming with possibility like Kyla? His bottom lip purchases between his teeth as he lets out a happy groan. I guess Tuesdays would be the days to look forward to now.

Sweat builds upon Yoongi’s lean frame as he snaps his hips into his co-star once more. His arm muscles shake as he holds himself above her thin frame, “You like that? Hmm? Like getting pounded by your sister’s husband? You’re such a fucking slut.” He recites his script before wrapping his hand around her neck. She whimpers out, botoxed lips parting for air as she keens loudly.

“Yes! Fuck! More, I’m such a little slut. I want you to fuck me so hard!” She whines and he can feel his energy slipping from him. This isn’t exciting. This doesn’t get him off. It was a trivial part of his job. He knows she’s enjoying it, the way she drools isn’t prompted. The way her eyes roll back every time the head of his cock meets her cervix folds isn’t scripted. He used to savor that. He used to adore fucking his co-stars stupid, making them forget their lines so he could take a break and edge his orgasm away before pile driving into them like a frenzied maniac. Now he just wishes she could hurry up and cum so he could get to the blog. It was Tuesday after all. 

“Oh Christ.” He murmurs out as she cums on his cock for a third time. Her cum squirting onto his thighs as she screeches to the heavens. The camera was solely focused on her battered pussy. And so, with that knowledge he closes his eyes. Picturing, or trying anyway, how Bjorn took Kyla into the fish hut after their summer raid. How he laid her down on the bed of hay and let his wild freeness overcome him. The way he ran his fingers over her nipples deftly. Deftly, that was a word used in the books often that he found himself loving. He remembers reading in obscene vividity how tight Kyla was for Bjorn, signifying that she had not been with a lover since he went to raid England. 

Yoongi finds himself gasping gently as he pictures the scene written just weeks ago by Nevermore’s beautiful hands. His cock was thickening just at the thought and he lets out a loud groan. Pleasure seeping into every nerve of his body as his teeth clamp down on his bottom lip. Picturing someone else beneath him, someone more supple to the touch. Someone who was simple and adoring being underneath him because they wanted to be. 

Alas, he’s ripped from his impending orgasm as his co-star scrapes her ridiculously sharp nails over his arms. He lets out a defeated sigh before opening his eyes. Jaw going slack he waves in the prop team. It’s still disgusting to him, the feel of the tube beneath his cock twitch and pulse as the paste emits from below him. It smells like glue. 

He gives a loud moan, something the director would say is beautiful as the paste lands on the folds of her pussy. He pulls away from her, ripping the tube out from beneath him as she giggles to the camera. Her index finger sneaks its way into her mouth and she gives a ginger bite to it before sighing happily. “Thanks Yidu.” He murmurs before grabbing a pair of boxers from his manager.

“What’s the matter, Yoongi? Can’t seem to get off?” Yidu calls to him as she sits up on her elbows. 

“Not with you or with anyone.” He mumbles to himself before shoving open his dressing room door. 

“What’s wrong with you?! Yidu is hot, man!” His manager, Hoseok says as he closes the door behind them. Yoongi rolls his eyes as he digs into his jacket before pulling out his phone. 

“Hobi. I told you. It’s hard to get off anymore, it’s just so… so-”

“Trivial? Come on, Yoongi! You just had one of the hottest A list porn stars beneath you!” Hobi says before handing Yoongi his coffee as he sits down in the arm chair.

“Then you go fuck Yidu. Give her a good seeing too.” He mumbles as he unlocks his phone. Hoseok scoffs loudly before throwing himself down onto the loveseat. 

“Yeah right! She’d never want to be with me after your eleven inch cock was deep in her kidneys.” Yoongi snorts at his comment before turning around to him. 

“It’s eleven and a half inches. I wish you would get it right.” He jeers before sipping his coffee.

Hoseok didn’t leave him alone for the rest of the afternoon. So, he had to wait with bated breath to read the new book until he got home. Which he finds agreeable since he would want privacy anyway. He’s kind of nervous. Isn’t it odd to read a book about yourself? As flattering as it is? 

What if the book painted him out to be this sex craved monster? He takes a deep breath before unlocking his phone. “Okay.” He whispers before crossing his legs and throwing them up on the couch.

There’s something magical about meeting the right someone. Captivating, even. The way irises flit between one another in a moment of glorious silence. The breath that is held within one’s chest as you stare longingly at the other person before you. Hands could shake from nerves, excitement- both, even. It had never happened for Min Yoongi. Until you. 

Yoongi clears his throat before leaning deeper into the couch cushions. There it is. The master at work. Painting him to be a god among men. A small smirk finds its way on to his lips as he settles in for more.

It took a second to notice him. To see him in a sea of moving bodies. He was a gentle breeze in a vast desert. And, in that second you yearned to know him. 

He was tall. Taller than you by all accounts. His hair was black and long, the gentle spring breeze blowing his bangs into his eyes as he leans against the hotel door waiting for his car. 

Expensive. That’s a word that could describe him even in the darkest of nights. The way his leather jacket clung to him, highlighting his biceps. Even his sunglasses screamed exorbitant. With one foot pressed against the foggy glass of the door, you found yourself walking towards him without any care for yourself. 

His jeans hung low, the crisp white t-shirt he adorned barely covering his pale skin underneath.

“Someone’s been watching ‘To Meet A Man’, hmm?” He quips as his thumb trails slowly over his bottom lip. He was already hooked. Seeing himself as the character and yet, completely setting himself outside of it as well. He was torn between the two and he feels as if he could go on this way forever. 

Stopping in front of him, he tilts his head towards you before smirking. “Can I help you, little one?” His voice was like the sound of a harp. Sharp and melodic. 

“You’re standing in front of the door.” You reply. Your index finger pointed at the foggy glass beneath his foot. He opens his mouth for a fraction of a second before nodding. 

“Thought you recognized me.” He murmurs to himself, opening the door to let you into the hotel. 

“I bet you’d like that.” You smile at him, black sundress rippling through the breeze before entering the hotel. 

“Yes. I think I would like that.”

God, this was enthralling. His toes curl as he reads on. Loving the picturing being painted already. How is it that you made this Min Yoongi so incredibly bold and attractive? How is he not this attractive? 

Yes, okay. He was hot. Undoubtedly. He knows that. But, he never flaunted it if he wasn’t on camera. This Min Yoongi was confident and sound. Surely he could cum on command without having to think of book characters to maybe do it. 

Yoongi wishes he was like his book counterpart. He’s a fan of him.

Stepping on set, he takes in the scene before him. This is something his character in Take One would be into. Tying up his woman Y/N. Pleasing her through and through, making her beg for more just because he could. 

Sipping his coffee he hums to himself as his hand runs over the silken sheets of the prop bed. “Wow. Big budget.” He jokes to Hoseok who snorts as a reply. 

“Your co-star is here.” Hoseok whispers before nodding across the set. Yoongi takes off his leather jacket before looking her over and he internally groans. Nothing like how he pictures Y/N at all in the book. 

“Fine.” He mutters out as he hands his leather jacket to Hoseok.

“When did you start wearing leather?” His long time friend asks as he sniffs the jacket. Yoongi shoos him away before running his fingers through his hair. “Mind your business, Jung!” He snaps before taking off his sunglasses.

He’s worked with this porn star before. She was hot, obviously. The kind of hot that screams high maintenance. And she always brought her dog to set. Which was odd. Also, annoying. Every time it yaps, they would have to start the scene over which for Yoongi used to be great but now, he feels an impending sense of doom as the chihuahua opens its mouth. “Yoongi!” 

Oh yeah, her voice was really high pitched. Something that could break a wine glass if she tried to sing opera. “Candy.” He whispers before kissing her cheek.

He used to be fond of her. Hell, they’d even gone on a date once after they filmed a marriage scene together. She was not for him. Not for anyone that had a clear thinking mind and that could count above fifty. “I’m so excited! You remember Tiberius, don’t you?” She asks as she holds up her dog. 

The small dog growls at Yoongi as he gives a half hearted chuckle, “Of course I do. Hi...Tiberius.” He retracts his hand harshly as the dog nips at the air.

“Let’s go get you dressed. Hmm?” Hoseok asks, hooking a hand over his shoulder. He hums to him as they walk towards his dressing room. “Please, kill me now.” He whispers fiercely, earning a loud laugh from Seok as he pushes open the door. 

Running his hands over Candy's body, he lets out a hum of appreciation. Concentrating on keeping his face steady as the camera pans upward. He pinches her nipples roughly, a gasp emitting through the set as she wiggles her hips cheekily. Would Y/N like that? Would she like his book counterpart to treat her roughly like this? Or would she want to be praised? 

"God, look at your sexy little nipples." He says aloud before slapping her breast. She whines into the camera, pulling on the handcuffs as her legs part wider. "So fucking hard for me." He comments before trailing his tongue around her stiff peaked areola. 

She keens for him and his eyes shut just to shield his eye roll. But as the room fades to black behind his eyelids, he remembers something. Nevermore watches his videos. She watches to get ideas. 

His head turns to the director as he moves out of the way for the camera to take a shot of her wet pussy. "You said free script?" He asks him.

The director waves his hand agreeing before looking back at the monitor. His smirk sends Candy beneath him into a fluster. She eyes him delicately as he spreads her legs. Candy was good at this though, rolling off the cuff with whatever her co-stars do. 

Yoongi taps his palm to her pussy before rubbing slow circles on her clit. "Look at you, baby. Aching for my big cock. You remember when I met you outside of the hotel? In my leather jacket?" She whimpers at the stimulation before nodding. 

"You looked so good for me. I wanted to just tear you apart." He hums at her words before pulling his cock out of his briefs. 

"I asked if I could help you, little one. But it's you who'll be helping me. Suck my cock." He instructs as he shoves his cock towards her face. Saying the lines from Nevermore's story, acting like his book counterpart sends his nerve endings aflame. 

His body tingles with satisfaction and the smile that creeps onto his face is one of pure joy as his cock enters her lips.

Throwing yourself down onto your roommates bed, she raises an eyebrow at you before folding her arms. "What's with the face?"

"Viiii." You whine loudly before burying your head into her pillow. She scoffs gently before laying down next to you. 

"Are you stuck with your writing?" You whinge loudly in agreement before rolling on to your back. 

Twirling her hair around her finger, she snorts gently before leaning against the headrest of her bed. "What part are you on? Hurry up Taehyung is coming over in forty minutes to take me out on a date." 

"Oh Taehyung is more important than your best friend ever that is going through a crisis?!" You faun shock as you sit up on your knees. She laughs, kicking out her feet before rolling her eyes. 

"No. Well...He has a big dick so getting dicked down might be more important but anyway, back to your crisis." Your lips sputter as you giggle before crossing your legs beneath you.

"She's going to have sex with Min Yoongi." You tell her and she hums before tilting her head.

"And? Your smut is hot. Just do what you always do. Fuck her till she's crying." She states plainly and you can't help but chortle at her words.

"But he's a fucking porn star. I don't know how to just-" You intertwine your fingers before smacking them together repeatedly.

"Okay, the word is cohesion. Whatever the fuck that is you think your doing- is gross so please stop that." You pout at her and she pokes your nose before grabbing her laptop with a gentle grunt. 

"Let's get some ideas for your dirty sex romp." She whispers before opening up the laptop.

Skimming through the videos, the thumbnails make your eyes go wide. "How does she do that?!" Viola asks loudly before trying to pick up her leg and put it behind her head.

"Seems like the work of the devil." You murmur before continuing to scroll. 

"Look! A new one! 'Cuffs and Leather.' Sounds lethal." She wiggles her eyebrows at you and you nudge her with a laugh before opening up the video.

Right off the bat it's filthy. And, you can't help the way your body leans in as his hand grazes over her bare sides. "God, his voice is so rich and dreamy." Your roommate comments as he tells her how pretty her nipples are.

Your thighs press together unconsciously before tilting your head. His eyes seem alight with mischief as they look deeply into the camera. It makes something inside of you stir almost innately. "She's pretty." Viola whispers before leaning back against the headrest.

"Look at you, baby. Aching for my big cock. You remember when I met you outside of the hotel? In my leather jacket?" Those words send your heart lurching.

"No fucking way." Viola yells as she sits up quickly. Your head whips to her as your eyes go wide. 

"No way. No FUCKING way!" She screams before cupping her mouth.

"I asked if I could help you, little one. But it's you who'll be helping me. Suck my cock." His voice, the teasing tone sends you rigid. Your throat dries up and all you emit is a squeak as Viola slaps her fingers onto the spacebar pausing the video.

"Oh my FUCKING GOD. Y/N!" Her screams sound foggy to your ears as your heartbeat begins to fill the void of noise. He's seen it. He's fucking READ it. 

Your face goes red as you stare at the screen. Your left eye begins to twitch as Vi presses her hands to your shoulders and shakes you. Her squeals bring you back to reality and you cover your face with your hands. "That's so amazing! He's read Take One!" She cheers happily and you begin to feel sick.

Your stomach rolls, a cold sweat creeping onto your skin as you put your hand to your forehead. "No." You whisper to yourself before laying back onto her plethora of pillows.

"Yes! This is incredible!"

"No." It's weaker this time as she straddles you. Jumping up and down happily and your body moves freely atop the mattress like a limp noodle. 

"Y/N! What are you going to do?!" She squeals as she shakes you around.

"Delete it." You say before looking up at her. She stops for a second before going wide eyed. 

"What?! Delete it?! No! What're you talking about?!" She says quickly as you grab your phone from her bedside table.

"I have to delete it. This is embarrassing. I mean, he has read something I made for myself and-" You go to unlock your phone and Viola scoffs loudly. 

"No! Give me the phone." She says loudly and you begin to wrestle atop her mattress.

"I HAVE TO DELETE IT. HE SAW WHAT I WROTE! I USED MY OWN NAME IN A FIC!" You yell out as you pin her beneath you. But, she has the grip of a strong barbarian as she shoves your phone down her tank top.

"No! If he didn't like it he would have just ignored it! But, if he had enough balls to put it in a porn! Then you know, he likes it! And he doesn't know your name!" She says. 

You grimace at your phone in her shirt before folding your arms. Maybe she was right. Maybe, he did like it. "So what am I supposed to do?" You ask her as she pushes you off of her. 

Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she leans in. Fingertip pressing to the tip of your nose as she smirks. "You're going to write the hottest smut in existence and send Min Yoongi, the porn star cumming in his expensive Dior briefs." She says before fishing your phone out of her shirt and throwing it at you.

"That's disgusting." You whine as you wipe your phone. She shrugs before popping a piece of gum into her mouth.

"You've written sex scenes where men run an actual fucking train on a girl and she's covered in like four different types of cum. Get over it." She says before blowing a bubble. You roll your eyes at her before looking back down at the scene. 

He wouldn't have said something if he didn't like it. He would have just gone on with life as it were. "Now go write your cute little brain away." She says before shooing you out of her room.

"What're you going to do?" You ask as you jump out of her bed.

"Get ready to get fucked by Taehyung. Duh." She says before rifling through her closet. 

With a snort you shut the door behind you before sighing loudly. "Okay, Yoongi. It's on." You whisper before cracking your knuckles and walking towards your bedroom.

Yoongi throws himself on his bed. The California King size is way too large for him. It's seen only him for years now and he can't seem to get as comfortable in the constantly cold sheets like he used to.

Propping his pillows up, he leans against the headboard. Tuesday, the greatest day of the week has arrived. He wonders if you've seen the video that was just released. Did you hate it? Were you too caught up to watch it? He has so many questions that he could speak outwardly just to fall on deaf ears and stagnant air. 

Opening up today's chapter, his eyes scan the regular genre and warnings. But the author's note-- that catches his eye.

Author's Note: I SEE that someone really enjoyed the first chapter of TO and for that...I'm very grateful.

He clears his throat loudly before sighing. The smile that radiates off his face would blind even the most ardent sun lover. His fingers tremble, heart beating voraciously inside of his chest. It takes him a second before he's ready to continue on.

"She saw it." He whispers to himself before sniffing gently.

Crossing his feet he scrolls down the page. Eyes reading the words so fast due to sheer excitement that he has to read them over again to absorb their meaning.

It was the coldest of nights when he invited you back to his hotel room. You knew he was only going to be around for so long and you felt the pressing need to see him for as long as you could. 

You had always made fun of coffee dates. Always joking and jeering with the ever so clever roommate you heartily loved. Ana was your rock in a very baron land. She implored you to go on the date with him anyway, knowing his career and who he was. Maybe he would be different than every other man, or maybe he would just be the best lay.

"You thought coffee was only for cheapskates, huh?" Yoongi asks as he ushers you into the hotel room.

With a giggle you past the entrance, "Something me and my roommate Ana have said before." 

He hums understanding before closing the door behind him. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea. Just because I have the job I do, doesn't mean that I invited you back here to fuck." He says as you shrug off your coat.

He graciously takes it before hanging it on the door hook. "When will I ever get to fuck the esteemed Min Yoongi again?" You quip back to him as you fold your arms.

His smile dazzles you. Sets your breathing irregular as he cards his fingers through his black hair. "Oh, little one. Quite often I hope." He whispers before stepping towards you.

His hands press to your sides, caressing them gently as his head tilts to the side. Cinnamon brown irises flitting from here to there as he drinks you in. His pupils begin to widen, like molten hot tar spreading over the Earth. "I enjoy spending time with you. And, I'm okay with doing just that." He whispers, running his thumb over your bottom lip slowly. 

The smooth pad of his thumb sends your stomach alight with something akin to fire. Burning hot and bright inside of you, you step closer to him. "And I'm okay with being here. With you." 

He takes your words as a confirmation. Pressing his lips eagerly to yours, you find yourself melting in his strong arms. Lips collide, tongues lashing out at one another as you grip tightly at his biceps. 

It's your earnest whimper that sends him into action. His greedy hands grabbing at your thighs before hauling you up easily. "God, your lips are so soft. I bet they'll feel like heaven around my cock." He whispers against you.

His feet pad slowly across the granite floor before you're pressed up against the grey wall of his hotel room. Your fingers knit into his black hair, tugging gently as you angle his face higher. Nipping at your bottom lip, he suckles once coaxing a sweet moan from your throat. "Fuck." He growls as your legs wrap around his waist.

Yoongi chuckles to himself before pulling his erect cock from his briefs. "What're you playing at Nevermore?" He murmurs as his thumb slowly drifts over the reddened tip of his cock. 

His lips trail over your cheek, the kisses erupting a lava like pool within your stomach. Your lips part for air as he suckles away at your collarbone, leaving cherry blossom petals in his wake. "You're incredible." He says, before pulling down the low cupped shirt you wear.

Your breasts spring out, pushed up by the cups and he lets out a wanton groan at the sight. "God, look at your sexy nipples."

He lets out a breathy laugh, fist beginning to jerk at his cock faster. His tongue licks over his lips before moaning. "Oh fuck. She really watched it. So hot." He whispers to the still air of his room. Even with lust filled eyes, he pays attention to every written word. Gasping gently at each moment as he reads it through. 

His lips, colder now against your heated skin, drift over the valley of your breasts. Stopping over each areola to pluck at your stiff nipples. Your gasps elicit the only reaction worthy, his hips thrusting against you with each sound. "Shit." He curses before suckling harshly at the sensitive skin. 

His tongue flicks so fast against your stiff peaks that your head lolls back with heady wanting. It's in this moment that his name rolls off of your tongue. He stops for a second, fingers kneading at your ass before smirking. "Say it again." He commands through gritted teeth before slapping the thick globes beneath his palms.

"Y-Yoongi." You whimper out and his eyes roll back before latching onto your attended breast. His hands bunch up your skirt tugging roughly at the fabric. "You wet for me? Hmm?" 

His fingers dip between your asscheeks, feeling at the fabric of your panties. Your breath hitches as he pushes them aside. Running his fingertips over your folds, you whine out his name. "You're soaked, little one. Jesus." He thrusts a finger into you without warning-

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Yoongi chants as his cock throbs in hand. His phone clatters to the pillow beside his face as his eyes screw shut. "Oh Christ!" He whines loudly before cumming. 

In a sea of stars, he sees the image of Y/N so clearly as he orgasms. Ropes of cum smatter onto his raggedly breathing chest. He gasps loudly before tilting his head to his phone. "Fuck. She's good." He whispers before looking down at his chest and throwing his head back to his pillow.

Yoongi groans loudly as he sits down on set. The Americano in his hand getting cooler by the second as he skims through the script for what seems like the hundredth time. 

"Hoseok tells me you have suggestions." Namjoon, the director says. Yoongi smirks at him before nodding. He holds his hand out to his manager who grunts gently. With a sigh he hands Yoongi the packet of papers before shaking his head.

"This. This is gold. Just read it." He tells the director as he hands him the packet. His thumb skims over the pages before giving a defeated sigh. 

"Okay. I'll read it." He says before looking over at Yoongi's co-star. She smiles briefly, nodding in his direction and he feels a sense of calmness.

His co-star today was one of the better ones. She was sweet, naturally pretty and fun to have banter with. "Lin. Hey." He calls to her as the director skims through the packet.

"Hey Yoongs!" She cheers. Walking over, he finds himself staring at her. She would make a good Y/N, most of the things described in Take One would fit her nicely. She leans against his chair casually before running her fingers through her hair. 

"I heard we might be switching it up." She points her thumb backwards to Namjoon as he continues to read.

"Yeah. I just...read this idea somewhere and I thought it was great." Yoongi announces to her as Hoseok grabs her a chair. 

Sitting down she nods calmly, "What's it about?" 

"Steamy first date sex. Coming back after a coffee date and just fucking up against the wall. It was pretty hot." He admits, thinking back to the sheer amount of cum that landed on his chest because of it.

"You have the arm strength to hold me up?" Lindy jokes as she pushes him with her shoulder.

"You still have those thighs of steel? I might need your help on this one." She gives a laugh before turning her attention to the director. 

"Genius." Namjoon comments as he smacks his palm to the top page of the packet, "Let's do it." 

Yoongi smiles widely before looking at Lindy as she grabs the packet. 

"You're soaked little one. Jesus." Yoongi mumbles against Lindy's neck as he thrusts a finger in without warning. She moans loudly, eyes screwing shut as he expertly curls his finger within her.

His cock was so hard already, knowing you would watch this and knowing that it's from your book. Lindy was quick at learning the lines, expertly acting as the perfect Y/N he could only hope for. 

"Fuck!" She curses, nails gently scraping down his arms. He groans gently, suckling at the column of her throat as he adds a second finger. 

"Your pretty pussy is so tight." He says as he scissors her open, her arousal practically dripping down his hand. 

"Y-Yoongi." The gentle tone in her voice makes his arms quake. Y/N would whimper for him like this he bets. 

Picking her back up off of the wall, Lindy discards her top. It's almost feverishly fast how his lips attach to her nipple. Groping at the skin of her ass, kneading roughly he spanks her hard. She gasps loudly, breasts thrusting towards his face. 

"Once I saw you, I only wanted this. To feel you in my hands like putty. To-" He scissors her pussy open wider for his cock, "-To feel your soaked cunt stretch around my big cock." 

His hand leaves her cunt only to unbutton his jeans. She kisses down his neck, nipping gently at the skin in her euphoric pleasure. "I want your big cock inside of me." 

He groans at her words, pressing her harder into the wall. Cock springing out, he coats the underside in her arousal before lifting her easily by her thighs. "Thighs of steel, get ready." He jokes, almost silently into Lindy's ear and he can hear a gentle snort in reply. 

He positions her entrance above his cock before pressing his lips to hers. The kiss is heated, tongues tangling with one another as he slowly sets her down. Her mouth opens wider at the stretch, his teeth biting and pulling at her bottom lip with a moan. 

"God, you're fucking tight." He mumbles as her hands snake around his neck. 

He was in his element now. Thinking of the book and becoming his book counterpart. Knowing just how crazed Yoongi in the texts becomes at the feel of Y/N's pussy on him. He could practically cum right now on the spot and it sends him into a pleased fury. 

"Y/N." He whispers, closing his eyes. He doesn't realize what he has said until Lindy leans in to him. 

"Easy now, big guy. Don't put your girlfriends name in." His eyes snap open before clearing his throat. 

"Sorry, Lin." He says before thrusting roughly within her. Her hands scramble to grip him tighter as he begins to fuck her for all she's worth.

"Goddammit! You feel so fucking good! Oh shit!" He whines loudly and his eyes flutter shut as he pictures Y/N on his cock. 

Teeth gritting, he rolls his hips filling every nook and cranny of her cunt. She was the perfect vessel for this, transporting him to a cloud high above nine as he bulldozes himself inside of her. Every sound, Lin's gasps and moans send him on the right track of hearing Y/N's voice. She was practically alive off the page for him. 

"Fuck! Your cock feels so good!" She whines as he lifts her hips off of the wall. His tongue licks over his lips as his cock impales her deeper. 

"Rub your clit for me, little one." Bunching up her skirt, she rubs at her clit and he can feel his cock already throbbing. He should keep himself at bay, finish the scene but this was the first time he would be finishing inside someone in almost two years. He can't pass this up.

"Yoongs." Lindy warns as he presses his lips into a straight line. 

"God, little one. You're going to make me cum, your pussy feels too fucking good." He skipped a bunch of lines to get to this one. He can't bring himself to feel sorry though as white hot pleasure courses through him. He could see her behind his shielded eyes, could see Y/N drooling for his big cock as he fucks her. He could hear her whimpers and moans as he fucks her open. 

He could feel Lin's fingers moving in frenzied circles to get off on him and he chokes on a moan as he buries his face into her neck. "Y/N. Fuck. Your pussy is so amazing. Oh, God!" He whines as his cock throbs wildly within her begging for release.

In her heady pleasure, she forgoes chiding him. Instead, she orgasms loudly. Moans ricocheting off the walls of the set as her pussy clamps around his huge cock. "Y/N! Oh shit!" He gasps out loudly as his thighs lock.

He doesn't notice the camera panning to where they're conjoined. He certainly doesn't notice how much he babbles Y/N's name. Lin runs her fingers through his hair, tugging roughly and that's all it takes before he's stuttering inside of her. 

"Oh SHIT!" He yells out as his cock gives a final twitch of pleasure. He cums hard, arms and thighs shaking as her pussy becomes painted white with his seed. Her thighs clamp around him, holding herself up as he practically goes limp before her. His eyes fill with pleasurable tears and he brings himself back to reality to hold her to the wall.

Pulling out of her gently, he finds it immensely satisfying to see his cum finally leak from a pussy after so long. He moves out of the way of the camera before running his fingers through his hair. "Oh fuck." He murmurs realizing now what he's said in his hedonistic pleasure.

"Please cut out Y/N's name." He tells Namjoon who simply nods as Lindy spreads her pussy lips for the camera. She sticks her tongue out at Yoongi and he gives an exhausted chuckle before closing his eyes. Nevermore is the first person to make him cum like this in years.

"You alright?" Lin asks as the prep team cleans her up. Yoongi sighs happily before nodding to her. 

"Oh yeah, I'm great. Sorry I said her name during that." He tells her and she scoffs before rolling her eyes.

"Don't apologize. It felt good to be Y/N." She says before kissing his cheek. 

It felt really good to be Yoongi too.

Sitting down in your living room, it's become a ritual now-- or so Viola says, to watch every new porn Min Yoongi puts out. "This is the most canon like thing that's ever happened in my lifetime." Vi says as she throws herself down beside you. 

She scrolls through the new video playlist before casting it onto your television. Opening a bag of chips, she holds it out to you. 

"I'll probably choke." You murmur as you settle in to watch the new video. She snorts loudly before munching on a chip. 

"This is so exciting. You know, I cancelled a date with Taehyung for this." She informs you before pressing play. Placing a pillow on your lap you bury your chin into the soft fabric before tilting your head to her.

"What's the name of this one?" 

"'Cheap dates.'" She says before throwing the remote onto the coffee table and giving the screen her undivided attention.

"You're soaked little one. Jesus." Yoongi whispers and the embarrassed laugh that bubbles forward is almost ridiculous. You bury your face into the pillow and you get a quick swat on your arm from your best friend reprimanding you.

"Pay attention! He's fingering her." You laugh louder now, picking your head up slowly. 

It's almost like a fever dream. Watching him reenact the scenes you've so earnestly written. After the initial shock and horror of it all, it kind of became flattering. Knowing that he was so into it. There was something inside of you stirring. 

"Goddammit. You feel so fucking good." You say right before he says his line. The overwhelming sense of pride you feel while watching this makes your heart swell. It’s almost as if he was your greatest supporter. It’s a deeper understanding of knowing how connected you are just by the words you write. 

“It really is exactly like the second chapter.” Viola says. Her voice rips you out of your day dream like state. 

You watch as Yoongi becomes almost animalistic, driving himself into the woman wrapped around him. It stirs you, your thighs pressing together inherently as your lips part. 

“He seems like he’s real into it. Look at him.” Your best friend murmurs and you can’t deny her words as he skips half of the scene in his deep seated pleasure. As he buries his face in her neck you can hear his soft grunting and babbling like there’s no tomorrow.

“Y/N.” The end of your name gets tapered off quickly and you sit up quickly at his moan. Your pussy clenches around nothingness, head turning to your roommate as her jaw drops wide open.

“Did you just hear him s-” Your voice is cut off by hers as she leans in to look at the television.

“Oh yeah.” She whispers before covering her mouth with her hand. 

It’s an awkward silence as he finishes his scene. Heart racing at the speed of sound. Your palms begin to sweat as you stare at his lusty haze. Watching his arms and legs shake with bouts of euphoria. “Y/N. This is… I mean… He’s thinking of you when he fucks someone else.” Vi whispers.

“No. He’s thinking of the book character. I’m just Nevermore to him.” You feel a sense of overwhelming pride as he gently sets his co-star down on the ground. Her pussy creams with his cum before the video ends and you find your body hurtling itself back into the couch with a sigh. 

“Post a selfie.” Viola says quickly before throwing your phone into your lap. Your head turns to her in confusion as she waves her arms wildly. 

“What?!” Your voice is exasperated as she moves her hands faster. 

“Post a selfie on your blog and as soon as he likes the post then just take it down.” She says before unlocking your phone for you. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, not truly understanding what she’s trying to get at.

“Why?”

“Because you’re fucking hot and he needs to know what you look like! Just trust me! Did I get the hottest guy in a four mile radius to talk to me by just posting a selfie?” You nod slowly to her and she winks at you.

“Trust me. Just do it.” You shrug before opening up your camera. 

“Pull these babies out.” Viola says as she pulls down your tank top to show your cleavage and you narrow your eyes at her as she shifts you around before humming to herself.

Fixing your hair, you tilt your head and she tuts her tongue beside you. “Just lips and tits.” She tells you and you sigh gently.

“Why?” You ask again.

“Because your eyes are the element of surprise. Just listen to me for once in your life, please.” 

Sighing loudly you do as told, taking a picture of your lips and the curvature of your cleavage. Viola hooks her chin over your shoulder before smiling. “Wow, your boobs look great.” She comments before patting your upper back. 

Opening up Tumblr, you attach the photo before looking at Vi. She grabs the phone before smirking and you read over her shoulder as she types in a comment.

Feeling like Y/N today!

You snort as she posts it, breath catching in your throat as she replays the porn video. 

“What’re you going to do after the shoot?” Yoongi asks his manager as he slings his leather jacket over his shoulders in one smooth motion. He watches Hoseok shift from foot to foot awkwardly. Raising an eyebrow, he leans against the door jamb waiting patiently for a response. 

“I’m actually going out with Lindy today. We...um...Started talking after your last shoot.” Hoseok mumbles. 

Yoongi gives him a gummy smile before clapping him on the back. “Have fun. She’s really nice, seriously.” 

Pulling out his phone, Yoongi takes into account how Hoseok smiles to himself before fixing his clothes. It’ll be good for him to go out with someone. Yoongi knows exactly what it’s like to be lonely. “I’ll head out first then.” Hoseok tells him as he opens up his Tumblr app.

“Have fun, go fuck her so hard she’ll feel it in her kidneys or whatever you say.” Hoseok snorts at his words before tapping his hand against the door frame as he leaves. Picking up his shoulder bag, the first thing he thinks is if Nevermore has watched his latest video.

He hasn’t seen it but he never watches his works after they’re released. There’s something truly cringey about it. Since it was Sunday, a new chapter of Bjorn and Kyla is out. The second to last chapter which seems almost heart wrenching before remembering he has his own story that has only just begun. Clicking on her profile, his legs quake at the image. 

“Oh shit.” He whispers at her selfie. 

She was all natural. No botox like he’s used to seeing. No breast implants. Just Nevermore. And from what he could see, she was right up his alley. There was a small seam between her tank top and breast showing black lace from her bra. His bottom lip finds itself tucked between his teeth as he leans against the door frame. God, she looks cute. Her lips are parted and he imagines his tongue dipping between them, caressing the pink petals. 

His pants begin to tighten and he locks his phone without a second thought.

Getting home for him was almost a blur. Nevermore's lips and chest constantly in the forefront of his brain. Her lips just gently parted as they were, they seemed to hold an innocence to them that intrigued him. She writes such glorious works, the filthiest of sex scenes and she still had this air of innocence. He was so enraptured by a quick glimpse of a photo that he was even wondering if he himself were changing. Changing into a man who wished for something deeper, something fulfilling. 

Throwing himself down on his couch, he unlocks his phone. Her picture was gone from his dashboard and he sighs gently. 

"Damn." He whispers before refreshing the page again. Just a single post from her. Just one line that sent his lips into a full on smile.

Just a taste for you.

It was kind of exciting. This backhanded flirting that you two have gotten yourselves into over a mere book. You would write and he would act. He would moan your name, close his eyes and dream as if he was inside your book. You would write with the intention to see him act it out. 

Yoongi sips his coffee, the first Tuesday he's had off in a long time does not come without excitement. Refreshing your blog, he tilts his head at the new chapter. "What're we getting into today." He whispers before leaning back in his chair.

Softly his fingertips caress your skin, eyes alight with wondrous emotions as you stare at each other in the grandiose bed. The morning sun alerts you, it's golden rays peeking in the window as if to chide you for not having slept all night long.

"I think I love you." Yoongi admits, his voice deep with tiredness as his arm encircles your waist. You begin to smile, eyes creasing with delight. Running your fingers through his black hair, you feel his lips against your shoulder.

"I think I love you too." You whisper before giggling as he straddles you.

"Let me make love to you and show you-" 

"Oh God." Yoongi mumbles as he sets down his coffee. Love? God, what even is that? Now he really wishes that he was like his book counterpart. So sure and sound with himself that he could venture out to find love with other people. It almost nauseates him as he continues reading. Jealousy creeping up inside of him like venom. 

Nevermore's beautifully written words make him seem devoid of feeling anything at all. He wants to be this Yoongi, so badly it's almost eating him alive.

His fingers press the backspace before opening up the messenger page. Clicking on her name he tilts his head as his fingers fly over the keyboard.

Min1993: I don't make love, Nevermore.

Sending the message, he hums to himself. Before he can pick up his coffee he widens his eyes. "Oh fuck! You idiot what did you do?!" He yells before trying to will his phone to unsend the message.

With an exasperated sigh, he throws his arms up annoyed with himself. Shoving his phone away, he buries his face in his arms before scoffing.

"I don't make love." He mocks himself before closing his eyes.

"VIOLA GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!" The screech that emits from you earns a clattering in the kitchen and wild cursing. You stand up from your phone as if it has caught fire, both of your hands slapping over your mouth. Your eyes widen at the message, the five words on the screen feel as if they're stabbing you.

"What?!" Viola yells as she stomps into your bedroom. With shaking hands, you point at your phone before swallowing. She hip checks you out the way, drying her hands on the kitchen towel. 

"I just broke the ceramic dish me and Taehyung made at the pott- OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!" She screams as she drops the towel. She jumps on your bed, picking up your phone and you close your eyes. 

Writing for him and seeing what he does is one thing. Getting a message from him is clearly another thing altogether. It's with a shaky sigh that you run your hands over your face. 

"He messaged you. I can't believe it and-" She looks over the message before smirking, "He's flirting with you."

With a scoff you look up at the ceiling. Your eyes drift from here to there, not focusing on anything with certainty. Drifting past one of his porns randomly had gotten you here? Flirting with one of the hottest men you'd ever seen in your life. This was like fiction in and of itself. Pushing past your insecurities, your insides clamor with excitement. Arms and legs shaking with adrenaline. 

"Go on! Answer him!" Vi says before pulling you down to sit next to her. Your hands quiver as you take the phone from her, thumbs nervously shivering above the keyboard.

NevermoreWrites: Then what do you do, Yoongi?

"God, imagine if he asks you out on a date? Imagine he fucks you?" She asks, getting comfortable on your bed. 

Her voice falls on deaf ears as you stare at the phone. That nervous niggling beginning to eat at you again. This banter that you'll begin to engage in, where will it lead you? If he wants to meet, you would dare show your face to him? Even after describing Y/N in the books exactly like yourself? 

The insanely loud pop of the Tumblr messenger goes off and you jump from your nervous spell to look at your phone. 

Min1993: I would love to give you some pointers. If you'd be interested. I think myself more of a Bjorn than anything else.

You gasp gently, sending Viola scrambling into your lap. He's read your other books before? Oh God! 

"Amazing! He's amazing! It's official and he has a huge cock!" Viola says before slapping her thighs in a defeated manner.

NevermoreWrites: A Bjorn? Wow, I'm impressed. 

You run your sweaty hands over the knees of your sweatpants. You tilt your head to Viola as she smiles widely. 

Min1993: I've been a fan for a long time Nevermore. Seriously, I have ideas. Give me a call 3721-8724.

Both of you in your room lowly whistle at the same time before laying back on your bed. Your heart beat fills your ears as your roommate giggles. You lay silently for a while before turning to look at one another. 

"So you gonna call him?" She asks quietly as you put your hand over your heart.

"Mhm." You hum to her before beginning to smile. Maybe this project that you began for just yourself is turning into something even bigger than you could ever imagine.

Yoongi doesn't do nervous. He hasn't been nervous since his first audition where he had to have his cock measured. But now, waiting for your phone call, he finds himself incredibly nervous.

Throwing the fourth empty water bottle in the trash, he paces around his kitchen. Even after drinking so much water, his mouth still felt dry. He even put on nice clothes for a phone call. "Something is wrong with me." He whispers to his empty apartment.

This woman, that he's waiting on. The woman he's been a fan of for so long now is going to call him. And, he hopes to the new gods and the old that he doesn't make a fool of himself. Pacing the granite floor of the kitchen, he wills himself to keep his eyes off his phone. Staring at the clock of his oven instead as seconds feel like years. 

It's the ringtone that makes him jump. Knocking over the container of kitchen tools on his counter, he curses before picking up his phone. Taking a deep breath, he answers the call.

"Hello?" His voice is steady, which he is grateful for. But the way his chest vibrates with anxiousness makes him grimace.

"Hi." Your voice is soft. Sending shivers down his spine as he leans against the marble countertop. Your voice sounds so sweet to his ears. 

"Nevermore." The word becomes breathless as he begins to smile.

"Yoongi." 

God, his name from your lips is gold. Shoving off of the counter, his heart finds its regular rhythm. His feet pad to the living room before flopping onto the couch with a sigh.

"I am a big fan of your work." He admits to you. You giggle at his compliment, sending butterflies aflutter in his gut.

“And I am a big fan of your work.” He gives a devious chuckle, his arm finding its way beneath his head as he gets comfortable.

“God, this is nerve wracking.” You say and he can hear your breathless laugh behind it.

The image of your lips, parted ever so slightly and your cleavage come to mind. Swiping his tongue over his lips, he doesn’t find it odd how at ease he has already begun to feel.

“I thought the same thing, but your voice is very calming.” Even without seeing you, he likes to think you’re smiling as widely as he is at his words. 

“Yours too.” You whisper and he can hear shuffling on the other end of the line.

“I really am a big fan. I’ve read all of your books before even seeing that you were writing a series about me.” His fingers play with the hem of his charcoal grey button up shirt as he stares at the ceiling.

“Did I get anything right so far?” You ask him quietly. Your voice was as eloquent as your writing. Every word sounded like a song he never could tire from.

“Some things. I’m a fan of the Yoongi in your book. He’s much braver than me, I like how you portray me. Far better than myself, I’m sure.” He hears you snort gently and he chuckles in return.

“Just because you fuck as a job, doesn’t mean you aren’t human.” You tell him. And, the curse that slips past your lips begins to stir something inside of him.

“You did however get something wrong.” He murmurs, his voice becoming a bit more gravelly as he runs his hand over his chest. The gasp you take, the quick sound has his tongue slowly traipsing along his lower lip as he begins to smirk.

“What did I get wrong?” You ask and the nervousness bubbles through easily. Clearing your throat, he takes that second to chuckle to himself.

“Oh, Nevermore. I don’t make love. I fuck every way till Sunday.” His voice is smooth as velvet, and he finds his cock beginning to stir in his jeans.

“Oh God.” Your voice is faint and you sound like you’re about to pass out.

“I can stop. Or I can show you my ideas on how to make it feel more like me. If you want, we can always just talk about Bjorn or Kyla. What the last chapter is going to be about next week.” He says quickly, hoping he didn’t give you the impression that all he wants is to have phone sex. Because, in all honesty, he doesn’t. He wants to get to know you. Wants to know how your wonderful brain can write such amazing, illuminating things. But, the prospect of you all for him right now is something he cannot pass up.

“No...No. I just haven’t done something like this in a long time.” You admit with a laugh. He chuckles to himself before pulling his arm out from beneath his head.

“We’ll take it slow.” He murmurs before hearing your hum of agreeing.

“Tell me your name. Please.” He hears your unsure hum and he tilts his head. Forehead resting to the couch cushion as he practically feels your hesitant stutter.

“Or don’t. I can call you Nevermore.” He says quickly, hoping to not ruin the mood.

“Y/N.” You whisper.

He chuckles at this. Eyes closing before sniffing. But, you don’t laugh along with him.

“Y/N? Like in the book?” He asks humorously. 

“Yes. Like in the books. My name is Y/N.” Your voice is devoid of any playfulness. Yoongi sits up quickly, fingers carding through his black hair as he nods. You were deathly serious. But, it doesn’t put him off. No. If anything his cock strains harder against the unforgiving tightness of his jeans. With a sigh, he unbuttons them before licking his lips. 

“Fuck. That’s hot.” He announces and the breath of relief you give makes him lay back down. 

“It was supposed to be for me and my readers… I-I never thought that you would re-”

“Y/N.” His voice is quick as he cuts you off, “Shall we begin, little one?”

He can hear your sweet low whine before you hum in agreement. Unbuttoning his shirt slowly, he lets his fingers drift over the smooth skin of his chest.

“You got my cock real hard over here, baby. I’m thinking about that cute little picture you posted for me.” He whispers as he unzips his jeans. 

“Did you like it?” The softness of your voice sends his nerves wrought with excitement.

“Fuck yes. You should have kept it up just a little longer. I was getting hard in public over your little slutty display.” Your gasp elicits a groan from his throat. 

“I wanted you to see how much I appreciated you using my scene in one of your movies.” He finds it cute that you don’t use the word porn like it isn’t something he does almost every day. 

“You can show me now how much you appreciate it. What’re you wearing?” He asks as he tugs off his jeans, throwing them over the lip of the couch without a care. 

“I’m wearing just panties and a t-shirt.” You reply and he groans louder at the thought.

“Fuck. You’re going to take everything off for me, do you understand?” He asks as he discards his button up shirt to the floor.

“Yes.” He curses quietly at your submissive answer before pulling his cock out of his briefs. 

“Your lips looked so pretty parted like that. I want them around my cock.” His hand shakes as he reaches for the length of his cock. Precum beginning to pool at the slit as you keen on the other end of the phone. 

“I’ve wanted to feel you all over me since I first saw your videos.” You admit to him.

“Fuck, I bet you do baby. Touch your nipples for me.” 

With a gentle gasp, you reach for your breasts. Your breath is hitched as you cup them in hand. “Roll your nipple with your fingers and pinch.” He instructs you and your hips bow off the bed at his request.

God, how were you here doing this right now? With him? THE Min Yoongi having phone sex with you. 

Whimpering, you roll your nipples between your fingertips. “I bet you look so pretty playing with your tits, little one.” The use of the pet name that you wrote for him sends you into a frenzy. Stomach unfurling with lava like heat as your legs spread wider on the bed.

“Yoongi, please. I need more.” You beg. The devilish chuckle he gives has liquid arousal seeping out of you towards the mattress.

“You need more? You’ve already seen my cock. I need to picture what your sweet cunt would feel like around me. How you would beg me to fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day.” You pant at his words, breath devoid in your chest as your toes curl.

“Touch your aching pussy for me, then.” He whispers and you hear his breath hitch on the other end of the line. Your hand dips down your stomach, all the while your fingers continue to pinch and roll your nipples. 

Spreading your pussy lips, you’ve surely never felt yourself this wet before. “My pussy is so wet for you.” 

“Jesus, fuck.” He mutters out and you try to imagine how he looks right now. Laying down with his bottom lip clasped between his teeth. Droplets of sweat sticking to his black sideburns. “I bet your pussy is nice and swollen, hmm? Your clit is probably real sensitive, begging to be touched. Why don’t you rub your clit for me, little one?” 

Doing as told you run your middle finger around your clit in gentle circles. Pressing your lips into a straight line you whimper out quietly. He tuts his tongue in a way that makes your eyes roll back. “Who told you to keep quiet? I want to hear you, Y/N.” 

“Fuck.” You mumble through gritted teeth. Hearing your name actually fall from his lips as he pleases himself, knowing it’s really you who he’s giving his pleasure to makes you moan louder. 

“That’s it. Fuck, you sound so hot. How wet are you for me? Put a finger in your cunt.” With a whine, you do as told. Running your fingers down your sodden lips before entering a finger into yourself. Grabbing your phone off the pillow beside you, you place the phone between your legs as you thrust your finger into yourself. 

The moan he gives is almost hedonistically evil, “Another.” 

Pushing the second finger in, the sounds of your soaked pussy emanate throughout the room and you moan his name loudly. “You’re so hot, Y/N. I swear to fucking God.” His voice sounds muffled as if he’s speaking through gritted teeth. 

“Yoongi. I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me.” He whimpers out before groaning. 

“You got me edging myself baby. You sound so fucking good.” Thrusting your fingers, you let out a yelp as you curl them to the spongy spot inside of you. 

“Take them out.” You whine in defiance as you continue to build your pleasure higher. Your eyes roll back as you squeeze at your breast, hips lifting off of the bed.

“Y/N. Take them out of your pussy. Now.” His voice demands respect and submission and with a frown you take your fingers out of yourself. 

“If you aren’t going to listen. We aren’t going to play. I’ll hang up and cum alone, is that what you want?”

“No.” You mumble to him. He hums in agreement as you pick your phone back up from between your legs.

“Put your filthy slut fingers in your mouth and suck your slick.” It’s almost mind boggling how quickly he changed roles. But, fuck, if it doesn’t get you on edge. 

Entering your fingers into your mouth, you whimper at the musky taste on your tongue. “You taste how needy you are for my large cock? Bet it tastes good, doesn’t it? Knowing that your dripping for a porn star you’re dying to fuck.” 

Whining against your fingers, your pussy clenches around nothing as he lets out a laugh. “Spank your cum slut pussy. I want to hear it.” 

Your hand shakes as you rear back before slapping your cunt. “You can do better than that, slut. Slap your filthy cunt.” 

Fuck, how is he so goddamn hot? You slap your pussy, the feeling ricocheting through you as your body jolts. Gasping loudly, you end with his name on your lips.

“That’s it. Good girl, little one. You’re so good at following directions. Play with your clit again, you must be aching.” He says and you can hear movement on the other end of the line. 

“Are you touching your cock?” You ask him.

“Fuck yes. You’re driving me insane, baby.” Your clit throbs, aching to be touched and you concede. Rubbing smooth circles, you whine his name out only to hear a string of curses from his end of the phone. 

"Tell me what you want to do to me." You beg as you continue your ministrations. 

He gives a growl and your eyes roll back at the thought of him stroking his cock to you. "I want to stretch you out on the bed, body flayed for me. Make you cum on my cock so many times you'd go stupid for me. I wanna spank your naughty little cunt for even teasing me this badly." He admits and your whimper earns another curse from him.

"I want to suck your big cock, let you use me like a cocksleeve." 

"Jesus fucking Christ." He says breathlessly. 

"Put your fingers in your pussy. Cum for me, I want to hear it." Your fingers jump at the chance, leaving your breast to play with your sodden hole. 

"I want to bend you over a fucking table and spank you so hard. Want you to drool for my cock and cum. Wanna make you cry for it." You hear faster movement on his end, his breath hitching before groaning loudly.

Entering two fingers into yourself, you keen loudly for him. Toes curling as you set an unrelenting pace. You haven't felt this sexy or turned on in so long. "Did you cum for me?" You ask sweetly before tucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Not yet, baby. I'm real good at keeping myself on edge. It's my job, remember. Curl your fingers to your g-spot." He tells you. 

Curling your fingers, your thighs become turse. "Yoongi! Fuck! I-I want to cum for you."

"That's it, little one. Keep going. You sound so gorgeous when you moan for me. Makes me want to please you so well."

"What else do you want to do?!" You ask quickly as the bubble inside of you begins to expand.

"What else? Baby, I want to do everything to you. Wanna suck on your sweet nipples until they're swollen and red for me. Fuck your cunt until your squirting all over me like a fucking slut. I especially want you to let me use your throat how I see fit and cut off your air with my cock. Watch you gasp for breath as you let me use you as a cocksleeve." You gasp for him, eyes screwing shut as your hips lift off the bed.

"Your pussy sounds so wet. You're making a fucking mess, I bet. I would love to lick it up. Taste your pretty litt-" You whine his name loudly, hips gyrating as you reach your precipice. "-Go ahead, little one. Cum for me."

Willing it to be so, you orgasm. Your head lolls back as your ears go deaf with white noise. You feel your cum leak out past your fingers as you fuck yourself through your orgasm. "Such a good girl." He praises as you whimper his name repeatedly. 

"Yoongi." You whine as you ride out your high.

"Still here, baby. I'm so close to cumming." He groans out.

Fisting his cock in hand, he can hear your exhausted pants on the other end of the line. His cock throbs wildly, having been edged to completion four times already.

"I want to suck your dick so badly. Let you cum in my mouth and swallow it. Show you I'm a good girl for you." Your voice is so gentle, so fucking sweet.

"Goddamn, Y/N. I'm- Baby, fuck!" He curses as he shoves his phone up to his shoulder off of his bare stomach.

"Want you to cum in my pussy and make me lick it off your cock." The beautiful thought of his cum glazing your lips and cheeks sends his fist stuttering.

"Y/N! Shit!" He yelps out as he orgasms. He gasps loudly, eyes screwing shut as he ruts his hips into the air. Warm ropes of cum land on his stomach as he moans for you.

"Jesus. Wow." He slurs out, feeling drunk off of the pleasure. 

There's silence for a bit as you both breath heavily. Yoongi's eyes slowly open before he chuckles to himself.

"Can I tell you a secret?" He asks as he uses his boxers to wipe his stomach. You hum in agreement and the sound tickles him pink as he turns his body on the couch.

"Until I read your stuff, I couldn't cum for a long time. I was really not excited about sex anymore until I read your works." He admits to you. 

"Really? But, you seem so into your work." He feels cozy now. This pillow talk going above and beyond anything he could have imagined. 

"I haven't been for a while. This was more erotic to me then most of the women I fuck." Your silence at his words makes him question if he's said something wrong. Picking skin off of his lip with his teeth, he waits for your reply.

"That makes me feel really warm to hear that." You finally say and he lets out a breath of relief before smiling. 

"Well it's true… Listen Y/N. I'd really like to continue talking to you. To get to know you more." 

"I'd like that, too."

"You fucking like it? Like trying to gasp for air around my cock? Hmm?" He seethes through his teeth as he thrusts his cock deeper into his co-stars throat. 

Yoongi has gotten amazing at shutting his eyes and picturing you behind his eyelids. He hasn't even seen you, yet. But, your conversations on the phone, the way you can giggle and talk for hours it was like a dream. A dream he would never want to wake up from. 

You were so real with him. Your personality is so magnetizing that it almost makes him feel like he's always known you. And in a way, he has known you. Your mind, your creativity and the way you write expressed something deep in your soul that he had always known.

The tap to his thigh makes him stop. Pulling his cock out of his co-stars mouth, he slaps it against her cheek. Smearing his precum and her spit over her face, he tugs her hair roughly before smiling. "Look at you, slut. Begging for daddy to stop when you practically got on your knees to grovel for my pleasure. What does that say about you? Hmm?" 

With a whimper she opens her mouth for him again, black mascara tinted tears streaming down her cheeks. "That's a good girl." He praises before entering his cock into her mouth. Your lips would be much better suited for the task he thinks. Remembering how you begged to let him cum in your mouth just to swallow his seed. 

"Jesus. That's it, little one." His cock throbs as her tongue swirls over the head. Pulling her closer with every thrust, his head lolls back. He wants to cum so badly. Wants to release and let the camera see his cum on his co-stars tongue knowing you'll watch it. 

"Fuck. Your slutty mouth feels so good around my cock, baby." He whispers through gritted teeth. He bets his life on it that you would whimper at the taste of his precum as your fingers dig into the skin of his thighs. That you would extend your tongue just to get every drop of his warm cum in your mouth. 

"Y/N! Fuck!" He yelps out as he orgasms. 

Disregarding the name he just said he taps her cheek roughly before pulling out. "Show me and then swallow for daddy, you slut." 

She does as told, the camera panning to her mouth before swallowing. "Good girl." He says before stepping away from the camera and her.

"Did you like it?" He asks as he cracks open his beer. 

With a laugh you hum unsurely, "I don't know. You seemed awfully pleased to cum in her mouth."

Rolling his eyes, he sips his beer before sitting down on his couch. "You know I was picturing your mouth around me, don't be silly." 

You giggle as a reply and he can hear clacking on your end of the phone call. "What're you up to? Writing?" He asks as he puts his feet up on the coffee table. 

"Yeah. Next weeks chapter of Take One." You tell him and he smiles at your words.

"Am I going to fuck you over a table again? That was hot." He mumbles over the lip of his beer bottle. 

"No. You're making love." You say seriously. Rapid tapping enters his ears and he sighs dejectedly. 

"You know I don't do that. I don't know how." He replies.

"I watched that video of you having sex with a woman on your wedding night." He gives a breathy snort before clearing his throat.

"Yeah but I didn't love her. I was acting. Your Yoongi in Take One is seriously in love with Y/N. He gets all emotional and shit." The sound pauses and silence invades his ears. He's gotten used to your long pauses, taking them as a sign of deep thought now rather than nerve wracking. 

"I'll teach you." You finally say to him. 

His eyebrows quirk up and he leans forward on the couch at your words. "You'll teach me?"

"Yeah. I'll teach you how to make love. Teach you how to feel emotion rather than just fucking someone till they can't remember their own name." 

"If you recall, last night you couldn't remember your own name after we had phone sex." He quips back, a smirk playing on his lips. 

"Yoongi."

"Y/N." 

"I'll teach you." You tell him sternly and who is he to say no.

"Yes ma'am." He replies quietly and he can practically feel your smile through the phone. 

"How about on Thursday? Your apartment or mine?" You ask.

He shivers at the thought before running his thumb over his bottom lip. Fuck, you were amazing. "Mine. Should I buy candles? Maybe rose petals? Decorate a heart on the bed with them?" He jokes to you.

"No. Just you and your pretty cock is fine." 

Fuck.

You stand in front of his front door, tilting your head at the brass numbers. You should feel more nervous that you are, you find yourself thinking. You were more excited than anything else. This is like finally seeing a lover after months of being away from one another. But, you’ve never seen each other. Only talked for long hours until the early hours of the morning. 

You feel comfortable talking with him though. Constantly finding yourself at odds with your gut as butterflies flutter endlessly within you. It just felt natural. You weren’t even that nervous for him to see you in your entirety after portraying Y/N in Take One exactly like yourself. 

Taking a deep breath you ring his doorbell. You can hear sound through the midnight blue door and your heart leaps with excitement. 

A minute feels like hours as you stand in the hallway. “Coming!” You hear faintly.

His voice is even rich and creamy through the door, sending your poor nerves on edge. You pull at the hem of your dress, teeth picking at the skin of your bottom lip.

 The door opens and you’re greeted with the handsome face you’ve only seen on screen. Breath catching in your throats, you both look each other over for a second. Taking in his black hair as it sweeps into his eyes and the black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Wow.” He’s the first to speak.

“Hi.” You whisper before clearing your throat. 

He looks like someone straight off the front page of a magazine. His obvious gawking makes you feel giddy, your stomach flipping and falling like you’re on a high rollercoaster descending to the ground. 

“Hey.” He says, a smile creeping onto his face.

You notice how his arm veins protrude as he pushes the door open wider. “Come in.” 

With the flurry of excitement, you don’t really take in much of his apartment. Besides the fact that it’s clean and neat. You mainly focus on him. On the way he swings the door shut and runs his hands over his face like he’s trying to ebb away a bout of nervousness. Min Yoongi getting nervous, why you’d never think that. 

He presses his back to the door and through his black jeans you can see his thigh muscles tensing. “Wou-Would you like a glass of wine?” He asks, before rubbing his hands together. 

“Sure. That’d be great.” You say.

He nods slightly, before rushing past you and you giggle quietly as you follow him. He’s so endearing. So absolutely handsome.

Rounding the corner, your eyes fall to his dining room table and you shake your head with a laugh at the many candles that are lit. “Very funny.” You say as he steps into the kitchen.

He chuckles to himself, not making eye contact with you as he pops the cork of the wine bottle. “They’re beeswax candles for wax play.” He mumbles and you let out a laugh before leaning down to the table. 

Elbows folding in on themselves, you look over the bright colors before tilting your head to him. Everything he’s doing, every movement and action is filled with tenseness and you feel sorry that he’s so nervous. 

“Yoongs?” You ask gently. 

His head whips to you as you call his name. His smile is gummy and gorgeous as he tilts his head. “You okay?” You question as he picks up the two glasses of red wine.

He hums in agreement before taking a deep breath and handing you the glass. He seems to have an inner struggle with himself as his hand reaches for yours. Probably wondering whether or not he should take it in his own hand. You let him work through it and you’re alright when he puts his hand back down to his side. 

His fingers flex and rub against the fabric of his pants as if he made the wrong call but you don’t say anything. It’s kind of nice to see his all power, sexy demeanor lost at the sight of you. It makes this real. Makes him real.

He shuffles over to the couch and you follow. Sitting down, he stares ahead at the art installation instead of where a television would be in normal living rooms. You can see him swallow multiple times, Adam’s apple constantly bobbing before shifting a glance over to look at you. 

“Nervous?” You ask him before sipping your wine. The flavor bursts in your mouth, undertones of stone fruits and Earth invading your senses. He takes a sip himself before leaning back into the couch and throwing his arm over the top.

“Honestly? A little. You’re exactly how I pictured you.” He says over the lip of the wine glass.

“And that’s a bad thing?” You ask playfully as you cross your legs.

“No! God! No, not at all! It’s kind of amazing. You’re really beautiful. I just don’t hang out with people much. I read your stories and just stay at home by myself.” He finally makes eye contact with you.

His onyx eyes focused solely on your face. They were holding emotions far more than you thought they would. It makes your heart clench, something deep inside of you falling into a cavern without anything holding you tethered. 

“Well, you’re exactly how I pictured you too.” You jeer and he chuckles in reply. 

He seems to relax after that, molding himself into the couch naturally. And you find it surprising how much you adore his not so cocky attitude like you see in his movies. “Your eyes are very pretty.” He announces before leaning over and putting down his wine glass on the coffee table. 

As he moves you can see his upper chest and you tilt your head at the sight. A god among men, perhaps. 

You cross your ankles, outstretching your legs and his eyes flit to your thighs. He licks his lips quickly before sitting back up. “Are you nervous?” He asks as he rests his back against the arm of the couch.

“Not really. I’m more excited to finally meet you, after talking for so long.” He smirks at this before folding his arms. 

“Who would have thought that you would be the one to put me on edge?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask with a laugh before taking another sip of wine. The alcohol burns nicely as it slides down your throat. Warming your stomach and your insides as he throws one leg up onto the couch bent at the knee. 

“You always seem so shy on the phone. I’m surprised it’s me that is feeling the effects so strongly of our meeting.” He says before holding up his hand as it shakes slightly. 

“I’m not shy on the phone. I’m submissive for you. That’s different.” You retort making him hum as you set down your glass of wine. 

Taking a deep breath, he looks you over once more. There’s something primal in his gaze, taking you in now like prey. He reaches forward, fingers sliding over your dress fabric. Your body turns towards him on instinct, ready for whatever he is going to offer. 

This is something you’ve come to terms with. You like him, kind of adore him actually. Talking with him on the phone, giggling and chatting for hours at a time made him seem so perfect. You were honest with one another, your connection very real.

"And are you going to be submissive for me today? If you choose to spend your time with me?" He asks quietly, the octave in his voice dropping so low you could practically feel the baritone shudder through you.

"No." You tell him confidently and he gives a short laugh before inching his way closer to you.

"And why not? You like it when I make you submit." He whispers. 

He was so close now, that his wine tainted breath fans over your face. 

With him being so close, you could see every emotion in his eyes. Every little thing calling out to you. His tongue slowly licks over his bottom lip and your groin twinges with satisfaction as he begins to smile lazily. 

"Because I came over here to teach you today." 

"Y/N." He whines. 

You watch the way his perfect lips part as he speaks your name. The way it rolls off his tongue like a plea and it makes your stomach coil. 

You press your hand against his clothed chest, feeling his pectoral muscles twitch and you feel power surge through you. He was yours to be with today, not anyone else. Not a co-star or any other person, just you. 

"Yoongi." You reply and you watch his breath catch in his throat. His eyes flutter shut and you smirk as he relaxes at your touch. 

"Say it again."

"Yoongi." He groans at the word and you sit up straighter at the effect you're having on him. It's with a simple giggle that you shove him backwards. He hits the arm of the couch with a grunt before opening his eyes.

Pupils blowing out with lust as his onyx irises gaze upon you. You crawl over his body, his hands finding their place on your thighs upon instinct. 

"I like hearing my name from you." He murmurs before showing you the column of his neck as your head bows down. 

You press your lips to his skin, the scent of fresh soap and linen breeching your nose as you give slow open mouthed kisses to his honey colored skin. His fingers dig harder into the flesh of your thighs and you could feel him trembling beneath you. 

"God, your lips. They feel so good." He whispers before swallowing thickly. 

Your hands roam over his shirt, as you suckle gently on his skin. He gasps gently, eyes fluttering shut as he holds you tightly. "I'm going to teach you." You whisper against his skin before nipping. 

His hips lift at the sting, eyebrows furrowing as he turns his head to give you more access. "Fuck." He seethes through gritted teeth. 

Your fingers begin to slowly unbutton his shirt, his hands snaking over your thighs to your hips before squeezing. "You're so fucking sexy. I knew you would look this good." He says as you lift up to unbutton properly.

"You're pretty hot yourself." You joke and he chuckles before looking back up at you. His thumb drifts over your bottom lip as he locks eyes with you. 

"You want me to feel emotion? You got it." 

Your chest puffs up at his words as you shove open his shirt. Revealing small abs and perfectly smooth skin, it's hard to find a place to focus as your eyes flit from here to there. His hands steady your hips before sitting up. 

He grabs you tightly before slinging you over his shoulder with a chuckle as he stands. "Yoongi!" You gasp out and he bends down just to pick up his wine glass. 

He chugs the contents before walking towards his bedroom. With this angle your eyes focus on his backside, every step contorting the muscles of his fit ass. Your hand reaches out for it and you feel a swat at your own backside. "Behave, little one." 

You whimper at his words, feeling arousal beginning to pool in your panties as he steps over the threshold of his room. You want to look around and take it all in but you're met with his bed first and foremost. 

Throwing you down, he runs his fingers through his hair before crawling over your body. The sheets are silk beneath you and you make out a painting on the wall before his face is in your sights. 

"What the fuck are you doing to me? Hmm? Getting me all nervous around you. Making me want to please you so well just to hear my name fall from your pretty lips." He asks as he runs his hands over your dress.

He discards his shirt and you watch his small abs flex under his taut skin with every breath. "Can I take this off?" He asks sweetly as his fingers find the zipper at the side of you.

You lift your body for him as he unzips. He groans at the sound before pressing his lips to your jaw. Sweet kisses glide over your skin and you gasp at the feeling. "I-I'm sup-supposed to be teaching you." You find the words to say as his lips trail down to your neck. 

He suckles gently at the skin, leaving pink and red rose petals in his wake. "I think I got the gist, little one." He whispers against you before nipping at your collarbone. 

Shoving your dress off of your body, he groans at the sight of you. "This is the bra you wore in that selfie, isn't it?" He asks, running his fingers over the black lace hem of the cups. 

You find it in yourself to hum in agreement as he throws your dress to the floor. You don't care how wrinkled it'll get, you can only focus on him as his hands reach for your almost bare body. 

You were making him feel something. Something he certainly isn't fucking used to. 

Knocking your legs open, he situates himself inside them. "Are you okay? Do you want to continue?" He asks for your confirmation as his hands run over your sides. 

"Yes. Fuck, yes." You whine. He chuckles before bending back down. His hands grab at your breasts, squeezing them rough enough to elicit a loud gasp from you. 

"Your skin is so soft, little one." His tongue laps over the skin atop your bra before tugging down the cups. Your breasts heave up at the action and he groans at the sight. 

"Look at your pretty nipples. Fuck." He curses before encircling your areola with his lips.

You were everything he had hoped to see. Everything he could possibly want and here, underneath him like this was sending him into overdrive. 

His hips rut in the air as he flicks at your nipple with the tip of his tongue. Rolling and squeezing your other breast in hand. Your back bows for him, gentle moans escaping your throat as your legs spread wider.

Your hands grasp at his strong shoulders. As he forsakes your nipple to leave his marks around the skin of your breast. "God, you're fucking amazing." He mumbles before moving to your other breast.

Whining his name, your hips lift up begging for more. Hooking his fingers into the sides of your panties, he slowly pulls them down. Tugging on your nipple with his lips as he leaves your core bare for him. "Spread." He instructs.

You find it arousing how he hasn't even looked down below yet. As if he's waiting to reveal it to himself like the greatest gift. Spreading your legs for him, you can feel strings of arousal breaking and snapping to your inner thighs. 

His lips trail down the valley of your breasts and your breath becomes caught in your chest. His thumbs flick at your nipples as he takes his time, kissing and suckling every inch of you. "What the fuck? Were you made for me? You're so perfect." He says before dipping his tongue into your belly button.

"Yoongi." You whimper out as your fingers find his soft locks. Tugging on it, he growls against your skin before looking up at you. 

"Keep doing that and I'm going to forget this whole love making thing and fuck you till your bow legged." He promises and you tug gently at his hair with a giggle. 

He rolls his eyes in response but you don't miss the smirk he gives. He shoves your legs open roughly and your jaw drops in excitement. He kisses at the bare mound of flesh of your pubic bone before picking his head up. His hums to himself, tongue licking over his lips. 

His bottom lip purchases between his teeth as he makes a V motion with his fingers opening your pussy lips for him. He stares lewdly at your cunt and you could see his hard cock throb through the leg of his jeans. "Look at your pretty little cunt. You're fucking dripping." He mumbles before rearing down and spitting. 

You moan at the feeling, hips thrusting into the air. 

His fingers glide over your soaked cunt. Your eyes screwing shut as he prods at your entrance with a finger. "Eyes open. Watch me." He instructs. 

Your eyes snap open as he nestles his face between your thighs. He breathes in deeply before latching his lips to your now swollen clit. 

"Oh fuck!" You whine loudly as your back bows off the bed.

His mouth was so incredibly skilled, lapping at your clit with such expertise. 

His eyes were on yours as he devours your needy pussy. 

He gives a flat stripe to your sex, before showing you the amount of arousal on his tongue and swallowing greedily. "You taste so fucking good." He mumbles before suckling at your clit again. 

You keen loudly, hands fisting tightly at his hair as he flicks the tip of his tongue to you. Your body jolts with pleasure as you mumble his name. 

Without warning he enters a finger into you. He himself moaning against your sex at the tightness of your dripping pussy. "God! Yoongi!" 

He hums in agreement before lifting up, slowly he drips his spittle from his mouth. You watch with keen eyes as it meets your cunt before he's ravaging you once more. Grinding your clit to the flat of his tongue, you feel white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins. Your skin feels aflame, your stomach tightens as you course towards the precipice. 

He curls his finger inside of you before slipping in another easily. "God look at you, so eager to cum for me, little one. So gorgeous." He praises and you whine as he lets you ride his tongue again.

He could feel his cock begging to be released from the confines of his jeans. Straining so tightly to the fabric as he precums at the sight of you losing all semblance of reality. You were gorgeously fucked out beneath him, cheeks tinged pink with arousal. He feels something stirring in his gut, something completely different than arousal. An emotion that sends him aflutter and he wonders if he's catching real, true feelings for you.

"Cum for me, baby. Cum on my tongue." 

Tugging on his hair harder, he groans against you. The vibration shoots through you as your eyes become spotty. Gasping for air, you babble his name as the tightness within you is almost too much to take. It's the image of him as he picks up his head that makes you lose it. Lips, cheeks and chin coated thickly in your arousal and you careen over the precipice as his fingers lovingly strike the soft bunch of nerves inside of you. 

You see stars as you orgasm. Hips undulating violently as your ears ring with white noise. "Goddamn." You hear from him faintly as your thighs shake.

He watches you lay so fucked out beneath him and he smiles. Yeah. He's caught fucking feelings. Moving up your body, he presses gentle kisses to your nipples before kissing you. 

Your first kiss together is wildly heated. Tongues lashing over one anothers as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. You can taste your arousal on his tongue and you whimper against him as he flips you over easily. "You're so fucking pretty." He murmurs with wonder.

Your legs straddle over him and you barely notice his hand creeping down your stomach. He rears back before slapping your pussy hard. You writhe with overstimulation, gasping loudly as your thighs lock. "Had to." He jokes before hooking his hand around your neck and pulling you down for a kiss. 

The kiss is languid now, tongues exploring each other's mouths as you unbutton his jeans. The sound of the zipper sounds so loud in the silent room and it fills you with gusto for what's to come next. 

He doesn't break the kiss as he shoves his pants down roughly. He sighs loudly into your mouth as his cock springs free from the confines of his jeans and briefs. 

You've been dying to see his cock in person. And boy, does it not disappoint. You practically gape at the size and thickness. Rose colored veins meet your gaze on his length and you find yourself practically drooling at the sight. His bulbous head is a mean shade of red as it weeps precum begging to be touched. "All for you." He says as he runs his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Me and every other porn star." You joke and he clicks his teeth at your words.

"I don't want them like I want you. I've never wanted to feel a body like yours in years. You're special to me, don't you get that? You make me feel shit. You make me cum. Nobody does that anymore, baby." Your eyes greet his as he speaks. And, you watch him earnestly pour out his emotions. You give him a sweet smile before running your hands over his chest.

He sighs at the contact before combing his hands through your hair. "I'm serious. You want me to make love to you? You got it. You want me to fuck you so hard you'll beg me to stop? You got it. Anything. Anything you want, I'm here to please you." 

Your heart swells at his words and you smile wider before grasping his cock. He gasps at your touch, hips rutting into the air before gritting his teeth. "I want to please you." You tell him.

"By all means." He mumbles as his jaw muscles flex. 

Bending down, you pepper kisses over his long length. Earning gentle groans from him as his hands make a ponytail with your hair. Your tongue laps at a trail of precum as it lazily runs down his length and he shivers in response. "Fuck." He curse before gripping tighter at your hair.

Swirling your tongue around the tip, he lets out a hiss of pleasure. The sound makes your pussy clench around nothing. "Goddamn." 

Spreading your legs wider with his hands, he rubs gentle circles onto your clit and you moan loudly as you take his length into your mouth. "Agh, Christ. Your mouth is amazing." He hisses out as you assiduously work your mouth on his cock.

Hollowing your cheeks with every suck, you feel brazen as he moans your name. "Not even some porn stars can suck cock like this. Jesus Christ!" He yelps out as he shoves your head down on his cock. Gagging around his length, he moans louder at the sound. 

Tears spring forth from your eyes as you look up at him. His bottom lip is trembling between his teeth as you run your tongue flat over the base. "That's it, baby. Just like that. Your mouth is amazing, baby girl." He praises you and you keen as he pinches your nipple. 

You whimper against his large cock, your hands gripping at his terse thighs as he lifts his hips with every head bob. He makes it a point to praise you every time you gag. Show love to your body as you cry on his cock. 

Spittle and precum stream over your chin as he begins to lose himself in the pleasure. "God, I've wanted to fuck your mouth for so long. Since you put that selfie up for me. I knew you would feel so fucking good around my cock, baby. So fucking eager to please me." His cock begins to throb as you swallow around him. Trying to get him as deep in your throat as possible. 

"Fuck yeah. Let me use you like a fucking cocksleeve." He murmurs out as your nose nestles to his bare pubic bone. He rears back before spanking your cunt again. Your body undulating at his ministrations and he holds up his hand showing you your fresh wave of arousal on his fingers. 

"Look at how horny you are for me. Fuck you're incredible." He enters his fingers into his mouth, moaning both at your taste and as he fucks his cock deeper into your throat. 

This wasn't particularly love making in a normal sense, but who gives a fuck. Right now, as he fucks your throat you can only whimper and want more. Getting so caught up in being with him that there really wasn't anything but perfection in this very moment. "Y/N. You're going to make me cum, baby. You're- Fuck." He curses before pressing his lips into a straight line. 

He tugs on your hair roughly, his eyes still on you and surprisingly not on his cock as it disappears into your mouth. His heart swells with admiration, wiping your cheeks of your tears as his jaw tightens. Licking over his base you watch him gasp loudly and your thighs tighten around his.

"Oh baby. Fuck. I'm cumming! Shit!" He whines out and his cock gets thicker inside your throat before orgasming. His eyes roll back as ropes of cum slide down your throat. He whispers your name ardently as you swallow diligently.

"Show me." He gasps out and you pull off of his cock before opening your mouth. 

"Such a good girl." He praises.

He takes a second, blinking the lusty haze from his eyes before flipping you onto your back. You giggle at the sudden movement, a smile painted on his face as he leans down to kiss you. Discarding your bra to the floor, he pecks at your lips.

"First woman in my bedroom. First woman to get me to cum that hard in so long. I got a lot of firsts going on today." He whispers against your lips before nipping your bottom lip. 

"Really? I'm the first girl in your bed?" You ask, surprised.

"Oh yeah. No ones ever been this special for me to invite them over. Keep playing your cards right and I'll make you dinner." He jokes as he spreads your legs.

Your giggle is cut off as he enters two fingers inside of you before stretching. With a whimper, you whine his name. "Cum for me one more time. I gotta stretch you to fit my cock in." He expertly curls his fingers inside you and your chest heaves upwards at the feeling.

"You-You never stretch any of the other girls on camera." You say as he scissors you open.

"They don't need to be stretched, they're constantly loose or have already been prepped. Also, stop talking about them and my job. This is about us right now." He says before silencing you with a kiss. 

The pad of his thumb rubs over your bundle of nerves and you gasp into his mouth. His fingers begin to fuck you faster as his tongue glides over yours. His taste, the subtle hints of wine and your arousal have your mind becoming fuzzy for the second time. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, arms hooking over the back of his neck as he nips at your tongue.

"You're such a good girl cumming again for me." He whispers before curling his fingers so fast inside of you that you feel all the air in your lungs disappear. 

"Y-Yoongi! Fuck! I'm-"

"Go ahead, baby girl." With a loud moan you orgasm for the second time and he scissors your pliant channel open as he whispers words of praise in your ear. Your vision goes white behind your eyelids and you barely feel his fingers leave you. 

He waits for you to come down from your high. Caressing your cheek with loving strokes as he aligns himself to your entrance. You whimper as he prods at you before looking up for confirmation.

"Just say the word and we can stop. I don't want to push you too much on the first round." So he wants more with you? 

You pull him closer and he pushes his bulbous head past your entrance. Both of your mouths falling open in tandem as he slowly thrusts inside. He was stretching you so open, the feeling almost mind boggling. 

"Oh God." You whine as he buries his face into your neck. Kissing over your heated skin, he pushes himself to the hilt inside of you. He allows you to adjust around his considerable length as he plays with your nipples. Pinching and rolling them between his fingertips. 

"I'll make love to you for however long you let me." He announces into the crook of your neck. 

He suckles more vivid colors to the surface of your skin as your legs wrap around his waist. He pulls out slowly, letting the head of his cock drag against your soft walls before thrusting harshly back inside.

The both of you moan loudly, your hands scrambling to grab onto his arms as he begins a diligent pace. He pulls your face with his hand to look at him as he fucks you lovingly. "You drive me so crazy. So fucking nuts. I can't believe I get to do this with you. You're like a dream." He whispers before kissing you softly. 

The balls of your feet dig into his backside as he continues his pace. You can tell he's dying to go faster but he makes it a point to give you what you want. He was truly making love to you, every thrust having purpose and meaning as he sheathes himself inside of your heat. 

"So nice and wet for me. So fucking tight." He seethes out through clenched teeth and you rock your hips with every thrust to meet him. He grabs your hands before intertwining your fingers together. 

His lips suckle at your skin as he begins to fuck you faster. Sweat beginning to produce on his sideburns. Your hands tighten your grip on his as you lift your hips for more. "I really like you." He tells you as you moan.

"I like you, too. A lot." He smiles before thrusting harder inside of you. Your head lolls back as he begins to fuck you with everything he has. 

"Oh fuck! Y/N!" He cries out into the valley of your breasts. You're a blubbering mess beneath him now, the tightening in your stomach coming back in full force as each thrust meets your cervix folds. 

Lifting himself up, he watches how your breasts jiggle with every thrust. How gloriously in pleasure you are beneath him and he can't deny the feeling of ardent emotion as his heart strings tug at the sight. "Shit!" He curses loudly before letting go of your hands to grip your hips.

Pulling you down onto his cock with fluid motions, you feel his cock begin to throb within you and your pussy clenches around him.

His hand reaches for the apex of your thighs, pinching your clit skillfully. Your eyes roll back, mouth drooling for his cock as he splits you open.

"You're so fucking tight for me. So fucking made me for me. Who does this pussy belong to?" He asks before pinching your bundle of nerves again.

"You! Yoongi!" You gasp out as your veins pump with pleasure. 

"Cum for me again." He mumbles.

He hooks your ankle over his shoulder before drilling into you at a speed that shouldn't be humanly possible. Mumbling his name incessantly you cum for him a third time. Eyes screwing shut as your cunt milks his cock for his cum. "Fuck yeah. So fucking tight." He mutters out as he watches you bask in deep seeded pleasure.

Your cum squirts out of you, landing on his thighs and he growls animalistically before pulling out of you. Flipping you over, he lifts your hips in the air and you can barely understand what's happening as you moan loudly. He enters you in one fluid motion, simultaneously spanking your ass hard. 

Lurching forward you moan his name as you grip at his bedsheets. Fisting them until your knuckles become white. "Fuck. You're so amazing. So fucking willing to keep creaming on my cock." He growls out as his hand grabs at the back of your neck.

He pulls you back onto his cock with fervent need, his eyes on your smarting globes and the way your pussy sheathes him so tightly. "So beautiful." He says before smacking your ass again.

You appreciate the sting, letting it bring you back to reality. His hand finds the junction of your thighs once more and he rubs furious circles to your clit. You yelp out at the over stimulation, eyes watering with tears. 

"Yoongi! Can't!" You whimper. 

"Yes you can. My woman can do anything." He's claimed you right then and there. You allow yourself to be pushed through the over stimulation, crying and whimpering before your simpering turns to loud moans.

"That's it, baby. Good fucking girl." He seethes out before spanking you again. "Let's go for four." He pulls out of you almost fully before spitting on your battered cunt. Pulling you harshly back onto his cock, your cunt continues to convulse around him as he begins to throb harshly.

"Oh fuck. You're going to make me cum." He alerts you. Thighs shaking, you rock your hips back to him with every thrust. Your hands grip the sheets tighter as you cum for a fourth time without warning. 

You bury your face into the mattress crying out loudly as he groans. "Oh fuck! Baby!" He yells out before stilling inside of you.

Ropes of cum smatter the walls of your cunt and you whimper feebly as the warmth fills you. He lays his chest to your back before kissing your cheek. You can feel his chest heave for air behind you and he pulls out gently. Pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek, he chuckles as you cream with his cum. 

You flip onto your back with a tired whine and he laughs quietly. Bending down, he kisses you gently before standing. "Let me clean you up, okay?" 

You hum as you close your eyes. God, hes fucking incredible. 

Cleaning you up, he watches as your head lazily tilts towards him. "You okay?" He asks with a laugh. 

Snorting gently you nod before looking over his naked body. "Did you mean what you said? Do you like me?" You ask him and he stops his ministrations.

Bending down he kisses you. The kiss filled with passion and reverence. "Yes. I like you. Very much." He replies.

"So...what are we?" You ask quietly as he lays down beside you.

His arms pull you into his chest as he rests against the headboard of his bed. Pushing some stray hairs behind your ear, his lips meet your hairline. Brushing against it gently, he closes his eyes. 

"I claimed you while we were having sex and that still stands. I'd like to see where this goes between us. Your soul is so pure, so honest and I'd like to know you on every level I possibly can." Your eyes flutter shut and you smile into his chest as he holds you tighter. 

"I'd really like that Yoongi."

"Me too, little one."

"Baby." His voice is loud as he steps over the threshold of your shared apartment. 

You jump at the noise, sending your fingers flying over the keyboard of your laptop before looking up. You smile at his figure, his bleach blonde hair falls into his eyes as he smiles back. You erase the keyboard smash before closing your laptop.

"Don't stop on my account." He tells you as he sets his keys down on the kitchen table.

"I'm almost done anyway, I was just editing the next chapter." He raises an eyebrow at you before padding over and kissing the top of your head. You purse your lips for a kiss but he hums awkwardly.

"Might not wanna kiss me. I gotta go take a shower too." He says before taking off his shirt and showing you the wax candle burn marks on his chest. You laugh, rolling your eyes as he winks at you.

He notices how your eyes shift to your laptop as he continues to stare. What are you hiding? "Wanna come take a shower with me?" He asks as he discards his pants.

"Sure." 

"Who'd you film with today?" You ask as Yoongi runs the bar of soap over your back, pressing sweet kisses over your bare shoulder.

"Candy. She says hi." He whispers as he pulls you closer to his naked body.

"While she was gagging on your cock?" He snorts into the nape of your neck before swatting at your backside. Whining at the sting, you turn your head and pout to him. He nips at your protruding bottom lip before nuzzling his nose into your wet hair.

"What were you writing before? Take One?" You hum in agreement as he runs the bar of soap over your breasts.

"What are we doing this time? Fucking in a car on our way to the Porn Awards? Or, maybe going on that vacation we won at the charity ball?" He quips and your body goes rigid as he questions you. Fuck, you're acting odd. 

"Just fucking." You say, your voice sounding small under the sounds of running water as it slaps the floor. 

He pulls away from you before rinsing his body off. "I'm done with the shower, are you?" He asks, finding himself sounding distant. 

You shut the water off and grab the towel from him watching him walk away and out of the bathroom.

Yoongi lays in bed, watching you comb through your hair with your fingers and he folds his arms. Your back muscles were terse and he raises an eyebrow as you throw your body down onto the bed as if you're frustrated. 

He can't seem to understand where this was coming from. You've been together for years now and every time you've shown this sort of tantrum or distance from him, he's always just fucked it right out of you till you couldn't remember why you were upset in the first place.

You were usually very vocal. He remembers the first fight you had gotten into, something that he still agrees is his fault. He was careless at first, when you began dating. Not really telling you the subject of the porns he was filming.

He would come home with hickies and scratch marks, without thinking of how you would take it. But, he hadn't had to explain himself to anyone ever. So he understood when you finally snapped and cursed him out. You put him on a sex ban for almost a month and he felt like a hollow shell, reverting back to not being able to cum inside of his co-stars for that little while. 

Just thinking about it gives him shivers and he pulls the covers over his chest higher. Getting comfortable in bed, your back is turned towards him. "Baby, come lay on me." He insists as he runs his hand over your bare thigh.

You stay silent before huffing out and flipping over. Wrapping his hand around your body, his thumb presses into the muscles around your spine. Kneading them gently as his lips drift over your temple. "What's wrong, baby girl?" He asks quietly.

"Nothing. I'm fine." You reply as you lay your cheek on his chest. He rolls his eyes at your hollow words before tipping your chin up with his index finger.

"I'm your fiance, you're supposed to talk to me. We're in this for life, remember?" His eyebrows raise with his words as your fingers run over the wax burns on his body.

"I'm fine. Seriously." You give him the fakest smile he's ever seen in his life before closing your eyes and he sighs a little too loudly.

What the fuck did you write that's got you so upset?

Yoongi picks at the skin on his lip as he watches you sleep. You've been distant for over a week now and he's starting to think he's done something frighteningly wrong. 

He made it a point to tell you that he didn't need to read Take One anymore. That you could pour your emotions and feelings into the story almost like a diary. He wanted you to have that creative outlet that brought you so much freedom.

He loves that about you. Anything and everything you write has meaning, you make it count. And, if you needed to write about how annoyed you were with him in your books then so be it. Vent to your heart's content as long as any real major problems were discussed with him first. 

But, God there was something wrong and he knows he would find the answer if he opens up Take One. Grabbing his phone off the bedside table, he lays you down gently before standing up. He stares at you for a second in your moonlit bedroom, watching you wriggle from the movement before becoming dead to the world once more. 

He sighs as he walks to the bathroom. His feet pad against the heated floor before locking himself in. Sitting down on the toilet, he unlocks his phone. Blinking rapidly at the bright light before scrolling through your blog. 

Chapter 99: To New Beginnings

"Oh Jesus." He mumbles nervously before putting his cheek on his hand as he begins to read.

It's early morning when your husband wakes you up. Breakfast in bed was never his thing, burning eggs so easily as if they were going out of style. 

But it was a welcome sight as your stomach grumbles with hunger. His smile stutters your heart as he sets the plate of food down before you. 

His touch is warm as he caresses your cheek. The feeling waking you up faster than the strongest coffee ever could. 

After last night's ball, how you danced among countless bodies with no faces, he seemed to become reinvigorated. Wholly invested in love for one another. 

He watched children in small dresses and suits play beneath glittering chandeliers. Watched their small bodies dance effortlessly to the cords of classical music and it struck something inside of him. 

"Little one." He whispers to you.

Looking up from your plate, your eyes greet his. His irises show you nothing but ardor as he grabs for your hand. 

Running his thumb over your wedding band, he swallows thickly. Nervousness sweeps through you as his eyes flutter closed. 

"What's wrong?" You whisper, setting down your plate.

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I just want to talk to you." You nod to him, sitting up straighter as you give him your undivided attention. 

His hand is atop yours, running smooth circles over your skin. In the morning sunlit room, you can see his forehead crease with tension. It seems like he has something to say and it just won't come out. Like he could shout underwater without any outcome. 

He takes a deep breath before looking up at you again. 

"I want to try for a baby." He tells you. 

Your heart lurches deep in the recesses of your chest. Eyes wideni-

"Oh, baby girl." Yoongi whispers before running his hand over his exhausted face. He has thought about it, surely. But, he never put much stake into it with the job he has. 

This is why you've been so distant? You want a baby? Why weren't you comfortable enough to tell him? You could talk to him about anything and everything.

It doesn't seem far fetched to think about having children with you. You were the greatest love of his life, the only love of his life. If it's what you want, then he wants that too. 

The thought sends his mind alive, waking from his exhaustion as he continues to read.

Sliding his hands over your bare body, his lips caress your breasts. Suckling at your nipples with the new intention of having them swell for his child. 

"God, how amazing you're going to look with my child inside you. So pretty and swollen for me." He whispers above your nipple, his breath hardening the bud to stiff peaks.

With a gentle mewl, he spreads your legs. Eyes on yours as his irises begin to swell with lust. 

"Wouldn't you love that, baby? Letting me cum deep inside your fertile womb and give you my son or daughter?" He asks as his fingers knead at the flesh of your thighs.

"Yes! Fuck! I want you to put a baby in me!" You cry out as he begins to smirk deviously.

Yoongi shifts in his seat, hand reaching down for his cock before stopping. God, this was fucking hot. 

Then he imagines you, swollen with his child as he lavishes upon your body. You walking down the street hand in hand as your rub circles onto your stomach. 

"Oh fuck." He mumbles before rubbing at his cock through his briefs. 

Reading through the sheer eroticism you have written, he finds the thought of you becoming pregnant weighing heavily on the front of his mind. Knowing him, he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it until he makes it a reality.

Standing up from the toilet, he opens up the medicine cabinet doors. Rifling through the small objects and toiletries he finds your birth control container. Without a second thought he clutches it tightly in his hand. "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you."

Unlocking the bathroom door, he leans against the door jamb as you lay fast asleep. “Fuck, I love you.” He whispers, before walking back over to his side of the bed.

You can see him staring at you through the big mirror in your bedroom out of the corner of your eye. Shutting your laptop, you meet eyes with him and you both tilt your heads at the same time to each other.

You giggle gently before looking down at the comforter beneath you. You really shouldn’t have been so pissy with him over the last few days, especially when you haven’t even talked to him about why you were so short and rude. 

He knows you too well by now, he probably knows something must be going on with you. It’s just all been coming to a head lately, you could say. Seeing Viola and Taehyung’s baby, seeing pregnant women in the street glowing and looking happy. It makes you feel like something is missing in your life. 

And, you want these things with him. You love him with every ounce of your being. You should just talk to him, just tell him. It scares you, what if you tell him and he says that because of his career it’s not really too hopeful to have a child. It’s nerve wracking.

“What’s up, baby girl?” Your fiance asks as he sits up straighter. His onyx irises feel like daggers through the mirror and you stand up before giving him a sweet smile. 

“Nothing, going to get ready for bed.” He hums to you before throwing his phone on the bedside table. 

Rifling through the medicine cabinet, you raise an eyebrow at where your birth control should be. You move things around before furrowing your eyebrows. 

“Yoongs?” You call to him as you shove his razors and shaving creams out of the way.

“Yeees?” He asks before stepping into the bathroom behind you.

“Have you seen my birth control?” You ask quietly.

You feel his lips press against the back of your neck. Giving soft kisses to your skin, he ignores your question as his hand runs over the hem of your tank top.

“Babe?” You ask gently.

Shoving your tank top up, your breasts bounce freely before being shielded by his hands. He groans as he cups them, squeezing gently. Your body shudders at his touch, pressing back into him as you steady yourself on the granite countertop. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I love you so much.” He murmurs against your skin.

Tilting your head to give him more access, you raise your arm to rifle through more of the medicine cabinet. He’s quick to push your arm back down, grinding his hardening cock against the globes of your ass. 

“You aren’t going to find them, they’re gone.” He tells you as he rolls your stiff peaked nipples with his fingers.

With a whimper, your eyes flutter shut adoring the attention. Especially, when you think you don’t deserve it with how nasty you’ve been with him lately. 

Kissing over the shell of your ear, he holds you closer before thrusting his hand down the front of your sleep shorts. Gasping gently, your hand hooks around the back of his neck. 

“Wh-Why won’t I find them?” You lick your lips as his fingers part the folds of your pussy. 

Suckling small marks of reds and pinks, you can hear his hum. Feel it vibrating through his chest as he holds you so close. 

“Because I have them." He whispers before spreading your feet wider apart with his own. Running his fingers over your cunt, he moans as your slick begins to coat his fingers. Digging into his sweatpants pocket he produces the aluminum packet, holding it between his two fingers.

“Why?” You question him, before biting your lip as he rubs circles onto your clit with his middle and index fingers. 

“Because I’m going to stuff you full of my cum and make you carry my child.” He says nonchalantly.

You gasp loudly as he slaps your pussy gently. How could he know what you wanted? Was he that in tune with you? 

"Can I throw them away baby?" He asks, his breath fans over your ear before nibbling your earlobe.

"Yes." Your voice is breathless. 

Groaning at your response he chucks the packet into the garbage before picking you up with his strong arms. Taking off to the bedroom, he kisses over your neck.

“I’ve been thinking about getting you knocked up for the past few days. It makes my cock so hard to think of you swollen with my child, baby girl.” He says as he throws you unceremoniously down onto the mattress. 

Rubbing your thighs together, you watch him crawl up the bed. His tongue laps slowly over his lower lip as his eyes devour you. 

It sends your heart racing. Knowing that he’s going to fuck you with such intent. Knowing that he’s fucking you with purpose and not just for both of your pleasure. 

“Why do you think I haven’t been shooting all week? I want my cum to be potent for your fertile cunt.” He announces as he climbs over you. 

His hands grip at the sides of your shorts before tugging down roughly. Leaving you bare and open to him as he spreads your legs wide. He eyes your soaked cunt before giving you a lazy smirk. Running his fingers through his blonde hair, you can feel your gut explode with wanting. 

“You’re going to let me fill your sweet pussy up, aren’t you baby? Let me fill you to the brim till your tight little cunt is dripping with it.” You let out a sob of pleasure as he plucks at your nipple with his lips. 

“Yes! I want you to give me a baby so badly!” You whine out as he nestles between your legs.

He lavishes on your breasts, groaning gently as your hips thrust upward. Your pussy clenches around nothing, your clit starting to swell with need. His hands press your hips down firmly to the bed as you writhe beneath his ministrations. He looks up at you, his eyes give a stern warning and you know not to move again without being told. You whimper his name gently as he kisses down your stomach, mouth leaving hot, wet kisses before hovering over your womb.

“Look at you. You beautiful minx, I can’t wait to see you swell with what’s mine.” He whispers before licking from your lower stomach to your sex. His tongue is achingly slow, sending your toes curling as you do your best to keep your ass planted on the bed. 

Kissing and suckling at your slick folds, he moans at the taste of you. Lapping up your arousal on his tongue like it’s his favorite meal. Frankly, it fucking is.

"Oh Yoongs! Fuck!" You whine as his arms hook around your thighs. 

Prodding at your entrance, the amount of arousal that leaks from you has his lower half already rutting into the mattress. When it comes to his job he can stave off any sort of pleasure but with you, he just can't help losing himself. 

He enters his finger into you slowly, enjoying how your thighs twitch and lock as he suckles on your swollen nub. 

"Fuck. You're soaked." He groans loudly against you. 

Adding a second finger, he could already feel you beginning to pulsate around him. Trying your hardest to not move at his request. "Grind on my tongue baby, you deserve it." He murmurs before letting his tongue hang out.

With a mewl, your hands fist at his blonde hair before gyrating your hips. Your eyes meet and the whimper you give has his cock twitching into the mattress. 

"I want it so badly. Want you to get me pregnant with your baby. Fuck me so full of cock and cum." You whine loudly.

His eyes roll back at your words as your breath quickens. His fingers curling so fast inside of you, it must be the work of the devil. 

"I'm gonna cum! Fuck!" White hot pleasure courses through you, cutting your nerves to the quick. 

Your fiance grips hard at your thigh, his fingers pumping into so fast you might have just seen Jesus as you rush towards your precipice of pleasure. 

His tongue flicks your clit at a dangerous speed sending you over the edge moaning his name loudly. Back bowing off of the bed, you cover your mouth with a shaking hand as you let out a sob of pleasure.

He kisses over the inner skin of your thighs waiting patiently for you to come down from your high. Running your fingers through his hair, you wince as he scissors you open.

"I know baby, but I gotta prep you. Your pretty pussy is too tight for my cock." He tells you as his lips drift over your skin. 

Stretching you open, he tugs down his sweatpants before sighing at the freeing feeling. Watching his cock spring out, you let out an involuntary moan at the sight. Precum weeps mercilessly from the head as his tip turns an angry shade of red. 

Spreading your legs wider with his own, he pulls his fingers from you gently. The loss of being full makes you focus more on his cock. As his eyes run over your figure, you can see it pulse and twitch with need. Your mouth goes dry at the sight, hips lifting off the bed at the sheer excitement of being filled with him. 

“I know baby. I’m coming.” Yoongi whispers before running his cock through your slick folds. The stimulation to your clit has your jaw tightening as your teeth grit together. It’s a sexy concoction of overstimulation and need as your body jolts with each rut against you. 

Pressing his lips needily to yours, your tongues collide in heated passion. Gripping the base of his cock, he enters you slowly. Moaning in tandem into each other's mouths. 

“Christ, your cunt is so tight.” He groans out against your lips as he thrusts himself to the hilt. 

Letting you adjust around him, his lips pluck at the column of your neck. “Gonna look so pretty for me, little one. So beautiful with my child inside of you. I can’t wait to eat your needy cunt while rubbing your big belly.” He whispers against your neck, groaning loudly as your pussy clenches around him at his words. 

“Oh, you like that so much don’t you? Picturing my baby inside you as I fuck you every way I can.” He jeers as his fingers roll your nipples almost painfully slow. 

“Yes! I can’t wait to be big for you. Sucking your cock as you play with my milky tits.” You whisper as you card your fingers through his hair. 

“Oh, fuck yeah.” He curses.

Pulling out of you, he steadies himself on his elbows above you before thrusting hard into you. Your hands grip at the sheets beside you, knuckles going white as your head lolls back.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby. Soaking my cock so nicely. Shit.” He whispers in your ear. 

The feeling of his breath producing goosebumps on your skin as he begins to bulldoze himself inside of you. Hooking your legs around his waist, you begin to meet each thrust with your hips. 

“Your cock feels so good inside me! I love when you fuck me!” You moan for him as he sits up on his knees.

Shifting your leg over his body, he presses your legs flat against one another. Your pussy becomes tighter around him at the new angle as he practically turns you on your side. Spanking the globe of your ass, you moan as your skin smarts with the sting of his slap. 

“Gonna take my cum deep in your aching little cunt, aren’t you little one? Let everyone in the street know how well I fuck you to get you so nice and big for me.” His head lolls back, licking at his lips as he grips at your hip. 

Plowing into you, your mind becomes muddled. Babbling and whining as he fucks you with every ounce of passion he has. “Rub your clit for me baby, I’m so close to blowing a load in your sweet pussy.” 

Lifting your leg, he grips your knee as you press it against his stomach. Your fingers rub your clit with furious circles, aided by how much of your slick weeps out of you. "Oh fuck, you feel so good, baby. I'm so close." He whispers as his eyes flutter shut.

His bottom lip purchases between his teeth as he holds your leg tighter to his body. Snapping his hips faster your stomach churns with delight. Your eyes flutter shut as you lift your hips higher, letting the head of his cock brush against the soft patch of nerves inside you.

He could feel your cunt beginning to twitch and clench around his cock and he curses loudly before bending down and kissing you deeply. Swallowing your moans, he groans against you as the head of his cock brushes against your cervix folds. Losing your mind once more, you grip onto his shoulder.

"I'm cumming!" You sob out as your eyes fill with tears.

"Good girl, baby. Cum on my cock. You look so gorgeous when you cum for me." His thumb trails over your bottom lip as you lose yourself in the pleasure.

Your body locks before going boneless as you orgasm. Sobbing loudly, your back bows off the bed. Ears ringing with white noise, you whimper gently. 

"Oh shit! That's it, little one. Your pussy got so tight!" He cries out as he snaps his hips harder. 

His hands grab at your breasts, squeezing and rolling them roughly as his thrusts become erratic and out of rhythm. 

"Oh God, please give me a baby. Take my cum deep in your pretty pussy. Please baby." He begs as he stills inside of you.

"Fuck, take it deep baby girl. Shit!" He cries out as ropes of warm cum paint the walls of your cunt. 

He lets out a shaky breath before burying his face into your neck. "I love you baby so much." 

He pulls out gently before lifting your hips. "Keep 'em up for a bit." He instructs before kissing you sweetly.

"You read Take One, didn't you?" You ask, voice riddled with exhaustion. 

When he doesn't respond you smirk tiredly. His lips drift over your cheek before nodding.

"Forgive me." He whispers to you.

He sits up on his knees before stuffing his cum back into your pussy as it begins to slowly weep from you.

"I'm sorry I wrote it and didn't explain why I was being so coarse with you." He runs his thumb over your bottom lip.

"I love you, little one. We're perfection together and children will only add to our amazing life. I want them with you, too. I want everything with you." He tells you, onyx irises staring earnestly.

You giggle before opening your arms. Laying beside you, he clicks his teeth before pulling you into his side. 

"I love you, too. Always." You say as you hook your chin to his pectoral muscle. He wrinkles his nose to you before kissing your forehead.

Sitting down on the couch, you close your laptop before side eyeing your fiance. 

There he sits, beautiful and poised as ever. Sipping his beer, his hand lands on your thigh. He leaves gentle strokes as he notices the attention you're giving him. 

Turning his head away from the movie, he tilts his head to you before leaning in and kissing your forehead. You smile at the warmth of his lips before coddling into his side. 

"Finished this weeks chapter?" He asks gently as his thumb caresses your skin.

"The last chapter actually." You reply as he offers you a sip of his beer. You shake your head with a smile as you extend your feet to the coffee table. 

"Last chapter? But we have so much more to do together. Like getting married and having kiddies. Buying a house and things of that nature." He whispers as he kisses your cheek.

"The ending is perfect for right now. I would really like you to read it." 

Muting the television, he turns his body towards you fully before furrowing his eyebrows. "I don't read it anymore, you know that. It's a trust thing for us." 

You giggle before putting the laptop on his lap. "Just read it. Okay? It's the last chapter… You might find it...uplifting." You tell him.

Placing the beer on the table, he sucks air in through his teeth before opening up your laptop. "Alright." He mumbles

Your feet find their place tucked underneath you as he begins to read.

There are certain ways that one can feel pure bliss. Whether it be seeing a lost loved one after a long while or hearing a song that strikes all of the right cords inside of you. Pure bliss can come in many forms. 

Today was your form of pure bliss. The sex god, your sex god had finally arrived back home from work. Sweaty, with a tired smile gracing his face as he throws his leather jacket onto the coat rack.

Your insides jump with joy, nervously excited giggles raring to pass your lips as he turns to you.

"Hi beautiful." He murmurs with a wide smile before pecking your lips gently.

"Hi." You whisper again his lips before copying the expression on his face.

His head turns to the dinner table, fully set with hot food waiting in the middle. Two candles on either side, picturesque like it was taken straight out of Good Housekeeping. 

"Wow. This looks amazing. Thank you baby!" Yoongi claps his hands happily as you both walk over to the table. Usually you both sit at the ends of the table but today you've taken the seat beside him.

Grabbing your hand, he gives the back of it a gentle kiss before leaning back in his chair. 

"Why such a lush dinner? Did you see my newest movie?" He asks with a laugh.

Butterflies roam free within you at his question. You giggle with him before holding your breath as he picks up the linen napkin from his dish. He gives a quick glance to the plate before almost giving himself whiplash to look back down at it. Sitting in the middle of the plate is a monochrome picture. 

Just a little hint of something white inside grey matter. Taking a sharp breath, he lets out a strangled noise before shaking hands approach the picture. "Oh my God." He whispers before clutching at the paper.

Your hands press together like a prayer as you bring them to your lips. He lets out a loud sob, eyes screwing shut as his hands continue to shake.

"You're pregnant?!" He cries out loudly.

"Yes. I'm pregnant." You say with a giggle as he kicks his chair away. Grabbing your wrist tighter he hauls you up before burying your face into his chest. 

"Oh, little one. Thank you." He cries as he holds you tightly to his body.

Yoongi wipes at his eyes before turning his head to you and sniffing quietly.

"It's beautiful, baby. Seriously. You need to be published. Get your own movie or something." Your fiance says as he closes his laptop.

With a smile, you lean your head against the top of the couch. "So what do you think about me being pregnant?" You ask gently.

He smirks before placing the hardware down on the table and grabbing you. He holds you close to his chest and you can feel his steady heartbeat which has become your life song. 

"We're trying, it'll come babe." He whispers as he runs his hand over your head in a calming manner.

"I use Take One as a diary. It's there to help me keep track of real life events too." He hums in reply before swaying your bodies in tandem.

He smiles unknowingly as his eyes shut. Real life events? Real life?

You wait patiently for it to set it, staring at the television as it lights up with different scenes of the movie he was watching. 

Then all at once, he goes rigid and you give a relieved laugh.

"Didn't take too long now did it?" You tease him as he pulls away from you.

Looking back up at him, his eyes are wide. Pressing both hands to either side of your face, you can see his eyes beginning to water with emotional tears.

"You're pregnant? With my baby? My perfect, precious baby?" He asks and he takes in a deep breath as you nod.

He scoffs loudly before sobbing. He caresses your cheeks with his thumbs as his eyes screw shut. His chest racks with emotion as he bites his bottom lip. 

"Fuck I love you." He cries.

His lips press to yours and you close your eyes to take in the passionate kiss.

"I love you too." You whisper against him.

Yoongi groans as he sits down in the director chair. He sips his coffee before looking over the set for the day. He chuckles to himself before folding his arms.

It's your voice that has his head cocking to the side as you step on the set. Stomach so large he's certain you can't even see your feet today. 

"Hi my loves." He says as he holds his hand out to you.

You wrinkle your nose, grabbing his hand as you place a kiss to his temple. 

"Hey boss man! I'm ready to go." He hears from the side of the set and his attention turns to the owner of the voice as he rubs at your belly.

"Y/N, this is Park Jimin. He'll be playing Yoongi in Take One." He introduces the younger man.

You bow your head to him as you take a seat besides your husband. Lazily he rubs at your stomach before calling everyone to their places. 

"Look at us, huh? A director and a screenplay writer for the biggest porn films in the industry. Who would have thought?" He whispers in your ear as the lights begin to dim.

With a laugh you nudge his shoulder as Jimin props himself up against the hotel door just like the first chapter of Take One.

As the scene begins, you find your attention wavering to your newly married husband. Tilting your head, you take in his handsome features. A god among men.

The giddiness explodes inside of you as normal and you feel his son kick inside of you. With a snort, your thumb runs over his wedding band as he holds his hand.

Who knew writing a simple story would get you here? In the greatest place you could ever dream of?

There’s something magical about meeting the right someone. Captivating, even. The way irises flit between one another in a moment of glorious silence. The breath that is held within one’s chest as you stare longingly at the other person before you. Hands could shake from nerves, excitement- both, even. It had never happened for Min Yoongi. Until you. 

[jiminrings]

can we get a fratboy Jimin and good girl oc with pinning from both sides 👀 ahhhh thank u in advance love ur writing!!

cherry king

drabble week: day four

drabble week masterlist

pairing: fratboy!jimin x goody two-shoes!reader

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: "y-you uhm, you-? y'know, you like... doing that? is that why it's your nickname?"

feedback + support mean the world to me!!

“next!”

great!! the line’s moving :D

that’s only like the 87th time jimin has heard the word next and it makes him wonder how much more would it take him to bring him to the front

(it’s actually only been 14 times and jimin might just be a self-admitted impatient bitch!!!)

he understands that yes, it’s ten in the evening!!! and reasonably-large stores/pharmacies like these can have less staff at the time compared to ten in the morning

sure, checkout machines and cashier lanes could be broken down!! or they could just not be open at all

jimin gets that alright, maybe the self-checkout machines are close at this time of the night because it is ten in the evening

what’s not clicking in his mind, however is that at the exact time that he comes here

as in the EXACT time that he’s here (!!!) — there happens to be dozens of people in a store at ten in the evening, and there happens to be a grand total of one (1) cashier lane

atleast random store music would be entertaining :((( all he hears are the beeps of a scanner and the chatter of groups of people who came here

jimin was eavesdropping on some guys in front of him and he wAS invested but lmao turns they were just discussing the plot of die hard or any testosterone-jacked movie like it

he’s also tried looking at the smaller middle-aged woman’s phone in front of him who’s scrolling through her facebook feed, but quickly decides against continuing it

because what if u could see his face and when she turns it off, she’d see a college guy deeply-invested in the baloney article she was reading about how subway sandwiches are the work of the devil

so uh yeah he’s just looking everywhere besides the front, back, and the sides of him and in all angles basically

he’s,,,,, aimlessly scrolling through his instagram feed he’s already scrolled through tHREE times and his explore’s page a little too dry

it’s a good thing that jimin’s entirely sure he’s the nosiest person out of this line and no one else is trying to figure him out

might be wrong though

“cherry king?”

hold the fuck on

jimin’s eyes widen, head snapping up and clueless to the fact that he doesn’t look discreet at all, and his head-cocking’s the most movement he’s done the whole time in this store

WHO’S SAYING HIS NICKNAME?????

it can’t be a coincidence either because as far as he’s concerned, there isn’t anything named cherry king that’s being sold here

there is literally NO other plausible scenario happening here besides the fact that someone who knows him is in the store!!!!

his gaze falls to the person behind him, brows knitted in confusion until it clicks

oh

that was you?

“jimin? huh, it really is you. i thought i was losing my mind for a second.”

“y/n?”

okay maybe hE’S the one who’s losing his mind here

he knows you!! you’re the smart girl in his year who’s known for being pristine and stuff!! you’re like the good-est girl he’s ever known and heard of

.... quick question lads is that weird to know someone by

“you could’ve just called me by my name, y’know,” jimin chuckles heartily, still a little dumbfounded to see you here but he’s grateful for the interaction nonetheless

you look casual today?? like you still look like yourself but everyone else would think it’s an out-of-body experience to see you out of your pretty dresses and monochromatic get-ups

it’s you..,.. in a hoodie three sizes larger than your size with your pristine shoes traded in for socked-feet wearing slides

jimin thinks that you look like grace under pressure

“i wasn’t sure,” you smile right back and it’s the first time he realizes that there’s glasses atop your nosebridge, softening your image more from the usual composed look you carried

“how were you sure enough to say my nickname out-loud though?”

jimin questions you, bringing light to how he’s wearing a plain white shirt and is looking as relaxed as ever with how he’s dressed — his hair long enough to be put into a messy sprout of a bun

you clear your throat, the amusement bubbling in your scratchy throat

“you have yourself as your lockscreen, jimin.”

oh my gOD

he winces when you say it, eyes screwing shut in embarrassment that he whines in pain with how direct you put it

“n-no way — fuck you respectfully, y/n. i-i’m not- i’m changing it right now!!”

does he look the vainest person alive rn

the way he has a mini freakout entertains you to your core, giggles unable to be suppressed as he finds the latest-taken picture he has of dogs that he comes across with

that’s 10/10 an experience he doesn’t want to repeat again

“it’s okay. i won’t tell anyone.”

he hears you reassure and he believes you, a flustered blush on his cheek still as he coughs to make up for a diversion topic he couldn’t think of

frankly, you’re getting bored too and jimin’s the only form of entertainment you have because using your phone atm would be too disorienting

“what are you doing here, by the way?”

your head tilts in query and he’s relieved that you address something else, not being relieved seconds later when he realizes his answer

“just a little supply run for our frat. we weren’t supposed to run out of things for three more days, so this is just a lil emergency haul for awhile.”

you nod in understanding, glancing down at his basket and uh

uhm 1/4 of the space is literally occupied by boxes of condoms

....

......

jimin’s confused to why you turn silent, thinking that he must’ve gotten boring to continue talking to until he follows your gaze to his basket

NO WAY?!]>|>]%%[%]%]

“i-it’s not l-like that!!!” he crouches and immediately gets the food and the bottles of shampoo and conditioner to bury the condoms in the bottom of the pile, attractively getting more attention from you who’s ready to let it go

“i-it’s not — it’s ours — n-no!! t-they just gave me a list and i just put it because it’s on the list b-but like it wasn’t my-...”

how many more times will the universe fuck jimin up in front of the person he has a lil happy crush on

you only smile meekly, tilting your head and he thinks this is the part where you tell him how much of a douche he is

"y-you uhm, you-? y'know, you like... doing that? is that why it's your nickname?"

:O

“t-that?” jimin clarified albeit confused, thinking back to his nickname as he tries to rapidly connect the dots to not look like a fool

cherry king? that?? what do you-

WAIT WHAT

“nO!! o-of course not!!”

he almost shrieks and his voice sounds ultimately defensive, shaking his head no

why does he look so frantic

“hey, hey, i believe you! — calm down, jimin. you don’t have to explain anything to me.”

whew

fuck

but he argues that it iS the truth though!!!

but why won’t you just ask him why he’s called cherry king though >:(

you’re already content with the silence after the conversation but he isn’t, still wanting more

is it so bad that he wants redemption D:

“how about you? what are you doing here?”

you don’t answer instantly and it’s because you’re nudging jimin to continually walk, the cashier looking much more visible now as he’s nearer in line

he takes a look at the handful of things that’s in your basket —

electrolytes, hot pockets, soup, cup noodles and fever patches...?

“oh. i think i’m running a fever.”

what???

what are you doing here aLONE if you think you’re running a fever???

he’s not gonna lie about the fact that you don’t look too good

what if you pass out and no one’s there for you and all the graveyard shift employees do is put a wet floor sign around your figure???

“y/n?? what are you doing here alone then?? are you oUT of your mind??”

the panic in jimin’s voice is clear as day and you’re a little startled, instead responding to tapping him on the shoulder to point that he’s already the one on the cashier

what he does is grab your basket before he is, putting it in front of the conveyor belt because he couldn’t even wait for it to roll out

“i said i think i’m running a fever.”

jimin stops from simultaneously rummaging for his rewards card and putting his items on the counter to unceremoniously drop the box of condoms down jUST to put his hand on your forehead

“you are.”

you surely don’t think low of jimin but you can’t help be surprised either at his concern for you when this is the only time you’ve had a conversation with him!!!

“you drove here?” he asks in seriousness, sending you a look while waiting for the total amount

“walked. the airconditioning makes me even more sick,” you answer with no fuss because even thinking about car fresheners while you’re sporting a fever makes you want to gag. “let me-...”

jimin already pays for both your items in cash, getting them bagged separately as he’s not gonna take no for an answer for what he’s gonna propose next

“then i’ll keep the windows down. i’ll drive you back to your dorm.”

he grabs both your bags in one hand and uses the other to beckon you over, holding you still because it’s dark out and a fever vision wouldn’t exactly help

it’s only when he straps you in and (true to his word) puts the windows down and starts his car that you start asking

“why are you doing this for me?”

why IS he doing this for you??

jimin thinks about his answer in a second

“would you do the same for me?”

well

if you were in front of him at a godforsaken line, had yourself as your lockscreen, realize that jimin’s behind you with a fever and is by himself in a store at 10 in the evening

“of course i would.”

jimin smiles, steering away from his parking spot

“then i would too.”

( ♡ )

maybe you’re thinking of jimin

no wait you’re dEFINITELY thinking of jimin

you’re much better now and your fever’s already subsided enough for you to go back to class!!!

the whole interaction with him was three days ago and maybe your head is just full of him at this point

“are you sure you’re okay to handle this by yourself??”

jimin worries when he drops your bag to your hands, briefly coming inside your dorm to set it down

“mhmm. i’ll just sleep it out.”

“i think if you’re missing a couple of steps.”

you snort as his paranoid features, waving him off. “i’ll eat. then go to the bathroom. and then sleep.”

okay good enough

“what if this just-“ jimin trails off, his expansive mind suddenly running as he points to your chest, “stops????”

cute

“i have a smart watch.”

“would you put me as one of the emergency contacts? please?”

he’s making you take down his number without malice because jeez he’s gENUINELY worried!!!!

it may not always be great sharing a house with his frat brothers, but he knows that if he has a fever, atleast half of them would dote over him and you have atleast one who would go into hysterics!!! it’e a full package!!

“i’ll be okay, jimin. i’ll call you when i need someone to hand me my puke bucket.”

“please do. i’m not even kidding. get better now because i miss your dresses.”

o_O

uhm

“n-no i meant your usual style!! wait, not that there’s anything wrong w-with your style right now. i-i was-...”

“yeah. i miss them too. now go home, jimin.”

“you sure?”

u never really had the impulse to invite a guy to go inside your place but maybe now you do

“mhmm. drive safe.”

okay

:-)

“good night, y/n. call me whenever.”

classes were a bit rough today because you’re still easing yourself on getting back to the groove of things, but it was tolerable!!!

you’re getting your key out of your backpack when a lock clicks open a couple doors away from you, the hinge noisily squeaking

it’s jimin who leaves it, with seri who’s the actual occupant of the dorm leaning on the doorframe

“y/n—!”

he squeaks the moment his eyes land on you

your hand automatically waves, the same meek smile for him to see

“jimin.”

( ♡ )

the last interaction you had with him is still on jimin’s mind, a whole week later

it’s been bothering him recently that you know what it looks like the last time around!!!! but he could swear up and down that it wasn’t

he just feels this great urge to explain even if you haven’t asked

“oh. so we have to move out for the time-being?”

jimin clarifies with namjoon, the head of the frat, and he’s met with a solemn nod

it makes sense!!!

the house got checked today and there were mULTIPLE fire hazards!!! and it needs to be fumigated anyway under new campus protocol so it indeed makes sense

practically everyone's going home because it’s a long weekend anyway because of a holiday

and he’s not sure if he wants to take the same route.

“hi.”

jimin squeaks the moment you open your door, surprise evident on your face but not shock to the point you’d close the door on him

“jimin?”

okay maybe he’s gonna go straight to explaining

“frat house needed to be closed because of some complications, and it wouldn’t be open to us for another three days. most of the guys are coming home,” jimin clears his throat, his head down while he shyly scratches the back of his ear, “i have one, but i’m not sure if i wanna.”

oh

it’s that problem

it takes one, two seconds before it all registers in your head, nodding surely

“you can take my bed. i’ll take the couch, it’s a pull-out anyways.”

you open the door for him widely and the only thing you ask if he’s had dinner and if he’d like some

god you’re really throwing him in a loop here

it’s after a batch of your cooking that jimin’s only ache is why you were the way that you were, half-dazed the whole time he’s met you properly

“why do you never ask me?”

“hmm?” you hum as you dry the dishes that you’ve used, wanting to get it done as soon as possible so your full attention would be on him

no, actually. jimin WANTS you to pry!!

he wants you to worm your way into his privacy and into the confines of his mind

but it seems like you’ve already did without even asking.

“ask me why i’m called the cherry king.”

you tilt your head in confusion, that time playing in your head of why jimin looked confused when you didn’t continue to ask further

maybe you’ll indulge him

“why are you called the cherry king?”

jimin smiles, leaning to your couch with his arms relaxed

“we did secret santa for christmas at our frat house. taehyung thought it would be nice if he pranked me by gifting me a jar full of cherries, but i thought that was his actual gift, and i liked it to the point that i finished it in one sitting.”

tHAT’S ACTUALLY PRETTY ENDEARING

cute, even

“ask me why i came out of seri’s apartment last week.”

oh that’s.,.,. that’s a bit higher in level compared to nicknames

“why did you come out of seri’s apartment last week?”

“because seri’s the ex-girlfriend of hoseok, my frat brother, and he wanted me to return all her stuff because he doesn’t want to be reminded of his cheating ex.”

well that was definitely weighted

jimin plays with the hem of his shirt, the words tumbling out of his mouth

“ask me why i love you.”

why do you wHAT

your mouth drops open, the new position you took on the other end of the couch taking an impact on him

“w-why do you love me?”

jimin’s a lot of things but he’s not drunk tonight

he doesn’t know why he’s letting his feelings slip either, but it’s the bottomless need that he feels when he’s around you

“i feel wanted. i feel needed.”

he smiles cheerfully even if he feels shy dropping this on you all of a sudden

“not sure if you want me nor need me, but i feel welcome with you if that makes sense.”

:)

“you just make me feel loved, i guess.”

jimin looks at you for the first time since he’s opened his mouth, an equally fond look on your face

you said no words but what jimin receives is a gentle tug, your hand on the side of his face until he’s leaning on your shoulder

“i wanna know what's up there.”

he points a finger to your temple, an amused lilt to his tone, “surprise me.”

it’s an unfolding of things that was weeks in the making but months in developing, the distant glances leading you to recognize jimin in the shop in the first place

“i feel the exact same with you,” you answer honestly and it makes his laugh from his chest, his cheeks warm and his heart content

and you just wanna suspend yourselves in this moment forever

“oh! and if i were to lose my virginity to anyone at the moment, it'd be you!!”

...

....

jimin swats at your shoulder to which you only giggle at, a toothy smile on display as this is the warmest he’s ever felt

“i wasn’t kidding!!!”

you yawn when you defend yourself, predicting that you’d fall asleep sooner or later on the couch, but for the time-being, you just stroke jimin’s hair to soothe the both of you

jimin is now the furthest thing from sleepy

"what? you told me to surprise you!!"

[ac3id]

Plaything | 18+

plaything 0/ ?? | part 1

pairings: yandere! bully bakugou katsuki x fem! reader

warnings: [series] blackmail, bullying, dubcon/ noncon, filming w/o consent, yandere themes, no quirks au. ALL CHARACTERS ARE ABOVE 18 YEARS OF AGE.

↪ for chapter 0: dubcon, blackmail, humiliation.

summary: by luck, you get enrolled into u.a high the best school in your town. the only catch is that the school is filled with rich, spoilt, and powerful brats who just seem to hate you, and among them, a certain red-eyed blonde dreads you the most

↪ for chapter 0: you reject bakugou’s proposal to fuck in the dirty boys' washroom so he teaches you a lesson.

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wordcount. 2k+

a/n: hello !! so this is like a little introduction to my yandere! bully! bakugou series fic. there’s also going to a lot of other bnha character mentions but the main pairing will be w/ baku n reader. enjoy!

“bakugou, i don’t want to do this,” your voice is weak as you bite on your lower lip, trying to stop sinful moans from leaking out of your mouth. bakugo has you bent over the cold and wet sink counter, your chest pressed against the dirty marble while your skirt is flipped over your displaying your bare, perky round ass to his stalking eyes. “who are you calling bakugo?” he spanks your ass with force, making you lose your footing as your head bumps lightly against the mirror.

“sorry, master,” you answer barely above a whisper but it’s loud enough in the empty washroom for him to hear yet he makes you repeat yourself,

“what was that, brat? i couldn’t fucking hear you.” he spanks you again, his heavy hand coming in contact with your soft ass with ferocity sending you flying off your feet.

“i am sorry, master!” you exclaim a little loudly, hoping it would satisfy him. and it does. he scoffs crudely, ghosting his fingers over your pussy lips before dipping his large fingers between them and petting your dry hole. he plays with your cunt, stroking his fingers lovingly over your little pearl, gathering wetness as he slips one finger into your hole. pumping them in and out at a slow pace. he takes his time, building up your orgasm while laughing wickedly as you try to hold in your moans. his fingers inside your cunt increase their pace as your juices start dripping down to your thighs,

“you said you don’t want this?” while his right hand destroys your cunt, his other hand wraps around your small neck. grasping it lightly, making it harder for you to breathe. “why are you dripping everywhere like a slut? hm?”

he had pulled you aside from regular classes, declaring them boring as fuck and that he wanted to do something much better like; fucking you in the boys' washroom. you denied, you told him no. you wanted to attend the lesson and besides skipping with him wouldn’t be any good to you. he was not kind to you, he was a meanie. he still insisted; telling you it’s fine, he knows the material. he can just tutor you later. no harm done, see? see?

if there was anything you hated more than being stuck in the prestigious u.a. high where everyone seemed to be out for your blood was spending time with bakugo katsuki. and being with him alone was another nightmare. he hated you. you didn’t know why, he’d never say why. you just assumed it was because of that one time you accidentally spilled coffee on him or maybe it was just because you breathed. honestly, both seemed favorable in this situation.

after many failed attempts of convincing you to come with him, he gets fed up. he pulls out his phone and shoves it into your face. his screen displays pictures of you which he had taken before and the ones which you had sent him. they are all lewd shots. pictures of you sucking him off while looking into the camera with glassy eyes illuminated the screen and as you swiped right it changed to another with the same background, lighting, and angle but the only difference being that your face was now covered with his seed while you posed for the camera with an innocent smile.

a look deeper into his gallery and you find your nudes which bakugo had forced you to take. it was necessary for you to be naked with your tits and ass being visible, he also wanted to see your face and would never settle for anything else. he never settles for anything without your face in it, makes you take those shots again and again until he’s satisfied with the results. he saves them, all of them. even the ‘bad ones' have been screenshotted and saved onto his phone for his personal use. he never tells what he uses them for but you don’t need to hear it from him. you already know he’s jerking off to each one of them every night before he goes to sleep.

it’s funny, anyone could take a look at those pictures and find out they are not photos exchanged between lovers. your expressions- no matter how hard you try, you always end up looking like you want to cry. there’s fear in your eyes and it just doesn’t feel authentic. it looks forced. like someone had put a gun to your head while you sat and took them. and well, that’s not a far-fetched idea.

he promises these are for his eyes only, “no one else gets to you like this. you are mine.” his words exactly but when his friends also start staring at you with lust-ridden eyes, you can’t help but question his words.

he blackmails you into coming with him. threatening he’d leak those pictures all around the school if you didn’t come with him as if he hadn’t already. as if your compromising photos weren’t already saved in all of your classmates’ phones anyway. bakugo should give himself a pat on the back, he’s such a great actor!

“for someone who doesn’t want this,” his demeaning, rude voice pulls you back from the dreamland you were trying to escape to. he forces you nearer to your edge, tiny whimpers leave your lips accompanied with loud moans as his fingers brush deliciously against your sweet spot. your precious cunt greedily pulls him in deeper and deeper, inviting him graciously into your womb but unfortunately, his fingers aren’t that long. but you know what is?

“you sure are dripping like a whore.” with every whimper which leaves your supple lips, bakugo feels himself get harder. his pants tighten as a bulge starts straining against his expensive, pleated bottoms. the hand prettily choking your neck detaches itself leaving you inhaling puffs of air as he works his pants off his hips. as you hear the rattling of his belt coming undone, a loud cry enough to draw attention from others outside of the room leaves your throat.

it catches bakugo off guard but nonetheless helps him get even harder, he likes to make you cry and get off to it. “why are you crying, bitch? it’s not doing you any favors here.” his fingers rub against your swollen, little pearl while lining up his fat cock to your blinking hole. “please, bakugo, don’t. i will do anything, anything else. just not this, i’ve never done this before.” you sound pathetic. your voice breaking with every word you utter. big, fat tears rolling down your cheeks while you ugly cried. bakugo almost feels sorry.

but in all honesty, he really couldn't care less about you. all your whining and crying only incite him further as ruthless ideas to break you down flood his mind. the kindest so far being him taking you right here and now but, but a sudden flash of seeing you utterly broken and in misery flashed before his eyes and he couldn’t let go of it. he wanted to see you tremble much more than you were right now. he wanted to see you cry much more than you were crying right now. Maybe he did hate you, he always pushed you around like you were his little pet of some sort to prove a point- that he is better than you. he is superior, you must respect him. you should kiss the ground he walks on, you should let yourself be his little plaything. then maybe, he’ll let you loose? who knows, he might just get even more obsessed.

as he watches you cry beneath him, your pathetic whimpers reverberating off the marble walls, a wicked idea pops into his head. he pulls his dick away from your exposed hole instead, replacing it with his fingers like before. “fine, brat.” his voice is softer, it surprises you. was he not going to rape you after all? “just because you said anything.” there it is again, the edge in his voice that makes you regret what you said. now, you know he has something worse planned for you. but it’s too late, you can’t go against your word now. you said anything, get ready to do anything. “stop squirming, i’m trying to make you cum. god knows whether you can even do that for yourself.” you most definitely can.

"a bitch like you needs someone to do everything for her.” again, you are probably the most independent student in the whole school,

“am I right, princess?” you are so wrong. “yes, master.”

no matter how crude and humiliating his words were and how much you hated his voice, you still found yourself clenching around his fingers almost ripping them off. your cunt squeezed his digits tightly as the coil building in your stomach tightened. moans of his name echoed all over the room as you felt yourself come closer. bakugo was taking his time playing with you, drawing you out making your release painfully slow as a form of revenge. you begged for him to play with your little clit so you could achieve ecstasy but he was too petty. after minutes of agonizing you to the point, there were tears streaming down your face and drool escaping your lips, falling onto the wet counter. he finally decided to flick his finger against your hardened bud. rubbing tight circles, he played with it aimlessly until he felt the gush of wetness around his fingers and the high-pitched scream which left your mouth as you came. his other hand pumped his still-hard cock. he was still pissed that he wouldn’t be able to cum inside you but it was fine for now. he had something much brutal set up in his mind for his plaything, he was aware that what he was planning might completely destroy but he figured it was worth it. much better to have a mindless slave who lives to fulfill her master’s wishes anyway.

he lets go of you, backing away with his hard cock still out and aching for relief. the huge head blushed red and leaking with pre, too bad he won’t get to finish inside of you yet. you quickly walk away from him, bending forward to search for your discarded panties. bakugo grunts at the sight of your wet pussy presenting itself to him, riling him up even more than he already was. He wastes no time pumping his cock at the sight of your exposed bottom, gasp and groans of pleasure escaping his lips,

“oi, what the fuck are you doing?” he asks, catching you sliding your panties on your legs. you turn around to face him, face burning when you are met with him stroking his cock at your movements. your eyes almost can’t leave the sight of his leaking cock, hard and begging to be played with and as much as you to admit it; it lights a fire inside you.

“stop fucking staring, you’re making it worse,” he growls and you immediately turn your eyes to his face. he smirks, “what? do you want it now? too bad, it’s too late,” he taunts. his eyes trail your body, eyebrows furrowing when he looks down your legs. “who told you to wear them,” he points at your panties between your legs. you give him a confused look, “you’re not allowed to put them on. give them to me,” he commands and panic crosses your eyes. you hesitate for a moment, debating whether you should listen to him or not. his fists clench as he glares at you, sending shivers down your spine, “what are looking at! give!” he speaks louder this time in a demanding tone as if he was scolding a little child who had picked up something from his office. your fingers tremble as you reach out to give the pink fabric to him, “leave.” what? you look at him in confusion. your big, doe eyes racking fear and anxiety. you wait for him to laugh or make a sarcastic remark about how gullible you are but it never comes. instead, he wraps your cotton panties around his cock, right in front of you, and begins jerking himself off. you are disgusted and petrified by his shameless actions, “what are you standing here for? leave. remember you said anything?” yeah, so you did. and you regret it already.

your legs tremble as you walk towards the door, pushing it open and peaking your head to check for people in the hallway. once you find it empty you walk out to the outside before sparing one last glance inside the dirty washroom. you hope for bakugo to call out to you, call you back but all you see is him cumming thick ropes into your panties while his eyes are screwed shut in ecstasy. yeah, you weren’t getting those back.

with shame and defeat written all over your face, you make your back to your classroom. your face is heated with embarrassment and humiliation as you remember you are walking around practically naked just an accident away from flashing yourself to anyone who cares to see. for the better half of the day, you walk around tugging your skirt as low as it can get. you don’t see bakugo for the rest of the day as he leaves you alone but when you do catch his eyes for a second or two, the wicked grin stretching over his features is hard to miss. He knows exactly what he is doing.

just as the day is about to end, he walks behind you squeezing your bare ass from under your skirt managing a surprised shriek from you when you feel his warm palms caress your ass pervertedly, “cute.” he whispers in your ear before turning you around and pinning you the wall. his fingers slide up your thighs moving closer to your cunt. warm digits graze over your slit earning a gasp from you, “come over, I will tutor you on the subjects you missed.” he kisses your neck, “come just like this.” he spanks your ass lightly before he leaves you be. his words are absolute and you know better than to disobey him, all of this was happening because you disobeyed him. you gather your things and walk up to his dorm room dressed just as you were before: in your school shirt, blazer, skirt, and no panties just as he wants it. when you arrive in his room you are met with his entire friend group sitting there with their books and pencils out. kaminari, kirishima and sero are not as surprised to see you as you are to see them. they greet you with happy faces which you return with a light smile.

“hey,” bakugo says with a smirk, guiding you to sit between sero and kirishima. between them the two humongous men, you feel like a child. with kirishima being tall and muscular and Sero being tall, lean and surprisingly packing a few too, makes you feel like a dwarf. you feel small and tiny in their presence and they very much notice it, sending knowing looks to one another while bakugo tries to tutor you. you know something’s up.

not a lot of studying takes place as kirishima grows impatient and slides his hand under your skirt and settles it over your cunt, rubbing his fingers on your pussy lips, occasionally pressing them on your clit. sero flips your skirt displaying your naked cunt to peering eyes. kaminari whistles, “wow, she really wasn’t wearing anything the entire day,” he comments. with one hand, Kirishima captures your wrists behind your back and pushes you on his lap. sero holds your legs to prevent you from squirming around like a dead fish, trying to break free. “so who goes first?” kaminari asks, walking over to you and crouching at your level. kirishima holds tightly with him seated on bakugo’s bed, kaminari flashes you a charming smile before his fingers run to unbutton your t-shirt, pulling your tits out of your bra. he tugs on one of your nipples while kishima’s large digits tugs on another.

“obviously me, dumbass.” bakugo barks coming closer to you. tears prick at your eyes as you beg him to stop, you tell him you’re sorry and that you will never disobey him ever again but he’s too far gone. the other men in the room might feel a little shitty about what they were going to do but there is no remorse in bakugo’s eyes. he looks at you like a predator looks at his prey, stalking about to pounce at any given second, “shut up, whore. you asked for this.” tears break loose as kirishima starts spreading your legs on command. wandering fingers rubbing at your pussy, trying to get you ready are forced to stop as bakugo declares that it must hurt for you. he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“you know you should have never said no to me right? be grateful for what’s being given to you, you’re our little plaything. a cute, little slut. you don’t get to say no,” his rough fingers grab at your jaw, prying it open as he spits in your mouth. “now just shut up and take our cocks, okay?” you cry out yes but he’s not satisfied. His hand strikes against your face, your cheek stings with burning hot pain as more tears leak out of your eyes. grabbing your face harshly, he lifts it up so you’re facing him, “okay?” he repeats. you calm your breath before answering him, fear and anxiety fucking you up in dread for what’s to come.

“yes, master,” you say in the most submissive voice you make out.