#anyway this is very off topic and i need to sleep

[yosh-iro]

just realizing my hearing can be summed up as having a fucking nasa computer for hardware but only ever using it to play that vid of a spinning rat with a compressed version of free bird in the background

[pressureplus]

Various Dating Sebastian Solace Headcannons

Warnings: Mild Suggestive Content, Intersex Sebastian

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

He loves to kiss you more than anything, loves to be loved honestly

Please touch him, he hasn’t been touched in so long

He’s got a fascination with scars, any old scars that you let him see he will absolutely trace with his fingers

Mildly obsessive, 100% possessive, he doesn’t really like the idea of sharing you or letting other people flirt with you

Insecurity is the root of it mostly, who would choose a massive fish monster over any average human? Let alone an attractive one.

He tries to make light of his insecurities with jokes but know that he is genuinely concerned he isn’t attractive enough for you. He plays it up like he thinks he’s the hottest man alive…

He doesn’t.

Very playful and makes tons of jokes about lots of things, dark humor to cope included

Once asked if you were a monster fucker, leaned in real close so you could look into his eyes properly

Grinned because he already knew the answer

He doesn’t like being flirted with by other people unless this means he’s getting something out of them, flirting to get more data is not above him

He knows some of the sick freaks down here look at him funny, and though he doesn’t know why, he wont stop them if it gets him something he needs

Never be scared of him leaving you, he’s got attachment issues and trust issues. You’re practically half his heart.

You better be able to handle being pawed at. Maybe not a ton but he likes to grab at thigh, chest, hip, anywhere that has the most meat. He’s got favorites depending on exactly how you’re built

If you’re on the thin side, he wants to squeeze your hips or waist to feel like he’s got a firm grip on you

If you’re on the average side, he prefers anywhere he can see the most pudge, stomach included

If you’re on the chubby side, he absolutely loves your thighs as it’s the easiest thing to grab for

He only squeezes and bites you when he’s fully comfortable, and would be happy to accept the same

Leave marks. He’d like that.

He doesn’t grab things off shelves for you unless he’s in a hurry or in front of other people

He prefers to pick you up and lift you to whatever you’re trying to grab…he has a habit of not letting you go after though so be careful

He does have a sex drive, he’s just not super open about it…again, insecurities

He doesn’t exactly have a human dick anymore you know

He’s got female anglerfish DNA too…so he also has pussy just cuz I feel like he should.

Yes he struggles with the idea of you being disgusted by that, he had some body issues for a while over it too

Honestly thinks you’d be disgusted with him if you wanted to sleep with him, so he’ll never bring it up and he’ll be nervously avoidant about the topic

Plus, he’s practically twice your size! That probably wouldn’t be fun for you at all anyway

All in all, insecure but loyal and quietly loving. He’s still rude and honestly? Most people would probably tell you to leave that guy. Definitely not the brand of man you wanna bring home to mama

But he’s in love with you. Genuinely. Hopefully that’s all you need from him

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: HAN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: GHOST!HAN, MEDIUM!READER, MASTURBATION, SEX TOYS, PERV!HAN, EXHIBITIONISM (?), POSSESSION, PENETRATION, UNPROTECTED SEX (?), MULTIPLE ROUNDS (2), MULTIPLE ORGASMS, DOM!JISUNG, PET NAMES (BABY, BABE). THE WORD “PERVERT” IS JOKINGLY THROWN AROUND, LMK IF I MISSED SOMETHING! ☾ ━━━ WC: 1.8K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     The moment Y/n stepped into the apartment to tour it, she knew there was something in there. The relator did disclose someone had recently died in the apartment —which explained the lowered price compared to most units in the building. And she’d have to be crazy to not take that deal.

     A month after moving in, is when she actually noticed it. She’d always been more sensitive to the dead, seeing ghosts and the like. Never really interacted until now. 

     It was a long day after work. She was sitting on the couch watching one of her shows, trying to destress. Then she saw him. At first, she felt his presence and turned to him. The ghost had zero clue she had actually seen him. 

     “You know I can see you, right?” she asked him

     He blinked and took a moment to realize she was talking to him. 

     “Me?” he asked, pointing to himself 

     “Is there another ghost here I don’t know about?” 

     It was a very weird friendship from that point on. It was like having a pet. Jisung was always there, never left, a good companion. He just wasn’t as expensive as a pet. Oddly, he became one of her best friends and she told everything to him. And who was he going to tell?

     “What’s one thing you miss about living?” Y/n asked him one night as they were watching an anime he suggested.

     “Besides coffee and food; sex,” Jisung admitted 

     “Really?”

     “Yeah. Speaking of sex, you’re loud.”

     “Do you listen to me masturbating?” Y/n looked at him

     “Not by choice? I haunt this small one bedroom one bath unit. It’s hard not to hear,” Jisung defended himself. 

     “Perv,” Y/n joked and threw a pillow at him, just for it to go through him. 

     Jisung was very good at being able to take energy to take somewhat of a physical form. He was able to sit on the couch and chairs and pick up small items. Still was able to walk through basically everything and stuff mostly phased through him. Helped a bit that Y/n was a natural medium so he could pull from her to stabilize himself in the land of the living. 

     “Me?! I’ve seen some of the guys you’ve brought home! They are into some weird grade-A pervert things.”

     “I can’t even defend them because you’re right,” Y/n sighed, “They all suck in bed anyways.”

     “I know. Need I remind you of last weekend?”

     “No.” Y/n flushed, remembering when the guy she invited over in the midst of being just absolutely desperate for an actual cock.

     The guy had left after he finished and didn’t bother helping her get off and he was just an ass the whole time. Jisung watched the guy leave not even an hour later. He locked the apartment door after him before going and checking on her. 

     He didn’t think much of just walking through the wall into her room, only the be met with her fucking herself on a dildo. He should have left after but he definitely didn’t. She didn’t even notice his presence until after she finished.

     “You didn’t need to watch,” Y/n sighed

     “I mean, it was kind of hot,” Jisung shrugged 

     “Perv,” Y/n called him again

     “I can’t even really deny it now.” The two laughed as they switched their topic to the dumbass shit the mc in the anime was doing at the moment. 

     Three in the morning, Y/n was turning in bed, unable to sleep, and thinking about her earlier conversation with her ghost best friend. At the time the incident happened, she was shocked at him but thinking about it late at night, it was kind of hot.

     “Fuck,” Y/n groaned, dipping her hand into her pajama pants and panties. Rubbing circles into her clit slowly. 

     She could feel Jisung close by in the small apartment. Not in the bedroom, but close. Y/n moved down to push a finger into her, eyes shut as she went through rubbing her walls and thrusting her finger in and out. 

     It wasn’t enough though. Even after she added a second finger into her, it wasn’t satisfying. She pulled her fingers out and sat up, grabbing a dildo and lube bottle from her bedside drawer and stripping herself of her pajamas and panties, rubbing lube on the toy before slowly pushing it into her, imagining her ghost roommate instead. 

     Jisung heard a noise coming from her room. At first, he thought nothing but curiosity hit. He stood outside her cracked door. Then he heard his name being moaned from inside. He went into the room and his jaw dropped at the sight. 

     The pretty girl that had moved into his old apartment in the wake of his death, was laying stark naked in his old room fucking herself with a toy, moaning his name. He didn’t know ghosts could get hard until now. 

     His eyes raked all along her body from her pretty cunt to her perky nipples. He was frozen. Not knowing what to do. Should he say something? Would she let him fuck her instead? Could he even fuck her?

     “Please, Ji. Wanna come,” Y/n whined as she pumped the dildo in and out of her. 

     If he could be in any more shock, he would. She was really fucking herself to the thought of him. God he wished he was alive. 

     Y/n sensed him in the room now. She was too wrapped up in her pleasure to look for him. Her legs opened more, slightly hoping he was watching her fuck herself again. The thought alone turned her on more. Suddenly she felt it get colder near her bed before it dipped down at the end. She slowed down and opened her eyes. 

     Jisung was leaning forward on the bed, eyes glued to her cunt. “Keep going baby,” Han told her. 

     Y/n felt shy all of a sudden. Legs closing to his view but he was quick. Pushed her legs open, sitting between them now. Y/n looked at him with wide eyes, no longer even trying to use the dildo. 

     “Don’t get all shy on me baby. Do you need me to help you get off now?” Jisung pushed the dildo into her again, a whine escaping her

     “Please, Ji. Need your help.”

     Her hand fell away as Jisung took over. Using all the energy he had to hold the base and quickly thrust the dildo in and out of her, watching as her hands moved to play with her nipples and head threw back into her pillow. Then he got an idea. 

     He didn���t know if it would work. But if he could phase through walls and sit on the sofa, he could try. 

     He worked the dildo with one hand as he pushed down his sweats. He was glad he did comfy and was going through the afterlife in a hoodie and sweats. His cock sprung free before he pushed the toy deep into her. 

     He took his hand off the toy and pushed himself into it, stopping when he got to his pelvis. Slowly, he pulled out, testing to see if the dildo would come with him. And it did. 

     Jisung smiled as Y/n looked down. Her face went red when she realized he had possessed the dildo. All thoughts left her as he harshly pushed back in, hands holding her hips. Her eyes went wide while Jisung fucked her. 

     His hands were cold on her skin. They left a trail of goosebumps on her skin as they ran up her skin and grabbed her breasts. Nipples hardened more under his phantom touch. 

     Her back arches as the toy hit a particular spot inside her. Legs shaking the longer he fucked her, not losing any stamina. Hips rolling against his before she finally came. Cursing and calling his name as she gripped her sheets. 

     Jisung slowed his pace down to let her come down from her high. He pulled the toy out and his own dick out of it as well while she caught her breath. Jisung looked over the faux cock covered in her juices. He really wished it was his dick instead that was covered. 

     Y/n focused on him staring at the toy. His own cock was still hard between her legs. 

     “Ji,” Y/n called to him. He focused back on her, one hand still on her breasts. 

     “Can I… please let me fuck you babe.” He squeezed her breasts. Y/n moaned before mumbling a “yes” for only him to hear. 

     Jisung wasted no time pushing himself into her again. It was an odd feeling at first. To feel full but not at the same time. Didn’t stop her from feeling him pounding her sensitive hole. 

     Y/n could only imagine just how good he was when he was alive. How she wished they met when he was still breathing. Probably would have saved so much heartbreak and shitty one-night stands. Especially with the way he was talking. 

     “Fuck. Wish I could feel you,” Jisung groaned, leaning over her and groping her breasts. 

     Everything around her was hot but cold at the same time. She was sensitive from the first orgasm on the toy but the odd feeling of Jisung inside her was doing more than she thought it would. 

     One thing she quickly figured out Jisung was a hundred percent a shit-talker during sex when he was alive. Proven by the way he was mumbling about “no one alive is gonna make you feel this good” and the “got you all pretty on my cock, huh? Like having your ghost roommate fuck you silly?”

     Definitely not Casper the Friendly Ghost but he could at least prove his shit talk. He did indeed have her fucked silly at the current moment.

     “Gonna come Ji,” Y/n warned him as her fingers reached between her legs to play with her clit

     “Give it to me baby. Wanna see you come for me,” His eyes watched where he disappeared in her and where she was playing with her clit. 

     Y/n bit her lower lip as she came for a second time that night because of her horny ghost roommate. 

     Jisung didn’t stop until moments later. He was burying himself in her before pulling out. He definitely felt the motions of an orgasm but when he pulled out, nothing followed nor did he feel anything come out. 

     “Damn. No more creampies,” He tsked after a minute once they both came down from their highs. 

     “You poor thing,” Y/n giggled as she sat up on her elbows. 

     “Maybe I should possess your next hook-up,” Jisung joked

     “They’d probably fuck better if you did.”

     Y/n for up on shaky legs to clean up so she could get some sleep. 

     “It wasn’t weird? Fucking a ghost?” Jisung asked once she came back to her room and tossed her pajamas back on. 

     “Kinda. But in a good way,” Y/n answered as she lay down under her covers

     “I wish I was still alive,” Jisung sighed as he lay next to her

     “Me too. But, we could probably have a lot more fun with you being a ghost.”

     “Who's the pervert now?”

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[luneaticlab]

AMORE (Chapter 1)

Pairing - CEO!Jungkook x Secretary!reader (female)

synopsis- Never in a million years you thought you'd end up with your boss, in bed.

Word count- 1.4k

IMPORTANT NOTE - Hey guys, this my first fic. I promise I'll improve. love and feedback are always welcomed.

•I do not own any of the pictures•

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

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

"come again?"

hesitantly, you repeated the words you said to your bestfriend a few seconds ago "The last time i got laid was 13 months ago..?"

"Girl, are you fucking serious?" Lena, your bestfriend not-so-aggresively threw her hands in the air.

"What's wrong with it? You know i'm not the type to have one night stands and shit" you justified defensively, delicately caressing your 5 month old persian cat, fluff.

"Dude you are in your twenties, you are hot, rich and single, what's wrong with having some fun before you settle down?" all you did was roll your eyes, ready to nag her about hygiene during sex.

"Don't tell me you still have a crush on your jackass boss" alice appeared from your kitchen, a cup of hot choco keeping her hands warm.

you were taken aback, yes, you did have a crush on your not-so-jackass boss, maybe you still do, no one knows, you are too busy with work to think about that. But something about him just makes your thighs clench.

His thick thighs which you would die to sit on, his tiddies who always threaten to come out(thanks to the buttons which do not let them), and his freaking jawline which you want to hold so bad when he kisses you.

Just to be clear the chances of this happening is 0.01% .

He's the typical rich, young, hot bachelor desired by multiple women and owned by none. Somehow you always managed to keep a very professional relationship with him so far. But what's life without some thrill?

"Jeon jeongguk? go ahead , have sex with him then. A rich man is a rich man" Lena suggests as if she's telling you to pick out some roses from the neighbour's garden.

"sure, find me a now job by tomorrow then" Lena chuckles at your reponse.

"Girl, its not that hard, he's a man and he might have needs too, if you really want him on the top then maybe wear some sexy clothes at work, you guys see each other everyday"

"Yeah yeah i'll think about it" you shrugged off the topic, not wanting to discuss it further.

:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。

"fuck!" You finally found your release , turned the vibrator off, took a shower, slouched on your bed releasing a lazy sigh

Yes ,the vibrator did wonders when you got it for the first time, but you've become too used to it, you knew you needed more and by more you meant jungkook's dic-

you pushed your sinful thoughts out of the way and forced yourself to sleep.

:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:

next day , 7.39 a.m

You got out of the shower, fresh and clean. Done with the skincare and your usual makeup (nude lips are mandatory!) .you were about to pick your grey sweatshirt, Lena's words resonating in your ears.

Fuck it, it's now or never.

you put the sweatshirt right where it belonged. Took out a white tube top which covered half of your tits, wore a black trouser matching with the blazer of the same colour of the trouser. A black nano belt bag from celine completing your look. Quickly wearing your jimmy choo high heels, you stepped out of your apartment, you felt confident.

You were aware of the stares you were getting at the office, you weren't surprised, not your fault you look good with a minimum effort.

You spot your coworker Diana at the cafeteria, she waves at you , her look telling you that she's got something for you

"Hey y/n, I've completed the list of the guests we are going to invite at the company's gala, Do you mind passing it to Mr.Jeon? I got some last minute work to do." She asked holding your hand

Bingo

"Sure, why not , I was about to give him his espresso anyway." you smile at her politely before taking the file.

Quickly making your way upstairs, you fic your hair before you knock his door.

'"Come in"

"Good morning Mister Jeon, the list for the guests for our company's gala dinner has been finalized." You said as you placed his espresso and the file on his table.

He looked up to see you, "Alright, thank you y/n, I hope you didn't forget we have to go to daegu today."

You caught him stealing a glance at your chest.

"Ofcourse sir" you smiled curtly before leaving his office, swaying your hips on purpose while doing so.

Jeongguk and you had to go to Daegu today for the monthly inspection of the company's factory there.

Being Jeongguk's secretary was undeniably challenging, but the salary was enough motivation to continue doing your job.

・。゜・。・o゜・。゜・。・o゜・。゜・。・o゜

3.39 p.m

"Mister Jeon, we are ready to leave." You said as you peeked out your head from the door into his office.

He nodded while fixing his blue Ralph Lauren coat as he walked past you , you followed him behind, making sure everything is on the right place.

You looked at him from behind, good Lord he was so damn hot then you looked at yourself. You guys would make such a power couple in your opinion.

"Did you have lunch sir?" You asked knowing he might not have eaten given the fact that he absorbs himself too much in his work once he starts.

"I didn't have time to"

"I figured, I ordered chipotle for you, will you be okay with a burrito bowl ?" Jungkook liked having light meals on work days and he gets carsick easily so chipotle was the best option.

"Yes, thank you y/n i appreciate it." He said gratefully, flashing you a small smile which you could write a whole thesis on.

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

You were driving the car and the ride was smooth, you guys talked about work related stuff. Until,

"How have you been lately, y/n?" Jeongguk asked out of nowhere.you glanced at him for a second before replying "I've been good, pretty much the same since 2 years. working on weekdays, staying at home on the weekends. Oh, and I've got a new roommate – a furry one. Adopted a cat a few months back. It's nice having someone waiting for me at home, you know?"

You have no idea why you are giving a detailed explanation instead of the typical 'I'm doing good' but it is what it is.

"Any special someone in the picture?" He asked, a hint of uncertainty laced in his voice.

You glance at him again in surprise before refocusing on the road, this guy is really picking his moments. "No special someone right now sir, how about you?" He started this.

He chuckled a little,"Not at the moment, not into relationships anyway."

well damn, at least it was worth the try.

You catch jungkook looking at you a lot of times during the ride.

"We have reached, sir." You both get out of the car and head towards the factory.

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

7:51 p.m, Daegu.

It was pouring cats and dogs.

"I think we should book a hotel and stay there for the night". Jungkook suggested while looking up. All of the workers were leaving and driving in this crazy rain is dangerous.

"But i don't have any spare clothes."

"Should we buy them on the way?" Jungkook asked finally looking at you.

"I think we should."

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

You guys found the nearest hotel, and went to your respective rooms.Jungkook chose a package of 1 night+ dinner because you guys didn't eat anything after lunch.

"Let us change then meet at the dinner hall yeah?" Jungkook said looking at you, your clothes were a little drenched, the droplets on your half-exposed boobs were visible and he can see your bra underneath the white tube top.

"Sure , sir"

You guys literally shoved your faces in the food because the meal was ten out of ten and ya'll were hungry as hell.

When you entered the elevator, jungkook looked at you for a second before speaking " Good day today"

You smiled at him. Damn that smile, he couldn't control himself , he brought his face closer to yours, literally a gap of 2 centimeters between. "Can I kiss you?" He asked , it came like a whisper.

"Please" You practically whimpered.

Just like that, his lips were on yours.

To be continued

[cherriteaa]

Draken x Black Fem Reader

Honestly, I watched the ep with emma and seeing Draken cry like that hurt me soooo bad. So I'm gonna write some sweet cutesy stuff abt Draken being sooo in love with his pretty gf. And Her taking care of him bc he deserves it. 

Contents: Suuugary sweet fluff 

(not proofread)

I always think it's so cute that they call eachother's gf's in Toman their 'wifey' omg 

Draken is def 100% calling you his wife all the time. Some of the members of Toman even call you by his last name just to mess with you. It's become such a routine joke that it's just become standard. Yall are together 24/7 anyways, might as well get used to it. 

On the topic of that. He will never ever call you out of your name. Not unless it's a petname or something like that. He thinks guys who call women out their name should be jumped. He won't let any other guy get away with calling you out of your name either.

He's super protective of you. He prefers to keep you in his line of sight when you guys are out with gang members just because he knows there are other gangs who play dirty who can attack at any time. He knows other members of Toman will protect you, but nobody can protect you like he can protect you. He's definitely the type to drape his jacket over your shoulders. Not only does he think it's cute, but it also lets anyone know that you are his. 

He's an arm around the shoulders kinda guy. For some reason, holding hands in public gets him a little flustered, but he'll totally put his arm around your shoulders and pull you close. 

He tries his best not to let you know when things are getting to him, but you've been around him long enough to notice what it means when he gets quiet, or when he's clenching his jaw more than normal. Please, please, please take care of him. He appreciates it more than he lets on. Especially when you let him sleep in your cute room. He likes to tease you about you unfathomable amount of plushies and pink items, but it's genuinely the most comfortable place he could ever be. He gets the best sleep of his life there, and you think it's so cute. Literally this tiktok .

Sometimes, guys literally just need to be held by their girlfriends. Of course, he isn't the type to ask though. You might notice he'll be a little more touchy, but he's more silent. However, if you join him in your bed and wrap your arms around him, you just might hear him huff a huge sigh before wrapping his arms around you. You're home to him. Play with his hair and watch all the stress and tension melt from his shoulders. 

On really bad days, for example when Pah or Kazutora went to jail, he will seek you out and just pull you into a hug, resting his chin on your head. He'll mumble something simple like 

"Just needed to hold you." 

Otherwise, he's really content with being the big spoon when you cuddle. He's a big fan of rubbing your back when you cuddle. He's also the type to latch onto you when you're cooking, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder while you cook and just resting his eyes. There's just something about you that brings him peace. 

He's also the type that gets SO embarrassed when he gets caught staring at you. His friends tease him about it all the time, but he can't help it when you're just being...you. He gets a soft smile on his face and he drifts off in his own little world. If he's feeling bold, he just may walk over to place a kiss to your temple, or wrap his arms around you. 

Draken is also a very perceptive man. He absolutely will notice if you got your nails or lashes done. Even if you so much as try dressing a new style, expect some kind of attention drawn to it. He'll grab your hand and admire the new set, or tilt your chin up to look at your eyes and compliment your lashes, or even stepping back to admire your outfit.

As we all know, tokyo rev boys are literally ALWAYS OUT. Which means they often pass shops and things. Occasionally, he might buy a sanrio plushie or cute keychain or trinket to give to you later on. He's very familiar with your obsession with cute things after listening to all your rants.

He's an old-fashion gentleman as always. Opening doors for you, walking so that you are on the inside part of the sidewalk, always making sure you're seated and not him in an area crowded with limited seats, holding the umbrella for you both ect. If he has one helmet and you're riding with him, he's 100% making sure you're wearing his helmet. He thinks you look cute in it anyways.

If you have any younger siblings, he definitely tries to show off just a little. He likes being seen as cool and stuff, and its kind of cute watching him lift heavy stuff or show off his bike to impress them. 

HE LEARNED HOW TO DO YOUR HAIR. He watches you do it, and watches youtube videos. He knows the specific products for your specific hairtype, and if you ever need or want help in any part of your hair process, he'll help you. He's so damn good at detangling, even if you're tenderheaded. 

He takes your problems seriously. He thinks guys who brush their girlfriend's problems off as insignificant are assholes. He's genuinely there for you always. While he may tease you a little if its not something that causes you a lot of distress, and may add some jokes about 'just beating them up' here and there, he always has really good insight on what to say. You can have deep conversations with him and he likes that about you. He's always in awe of how you can think of things he's never thought of.

Overall, he's such a caring boyfriend. At least he tries to be. He's easily flustered and tries to play some things off as cool, but that man will genuinely move mountains for you. His relationship with you is a comfortable one, thats heavy on you both checking in on eachother and making sure you're ok. Even though he's not the gentlest person ever, he tries his hardest for you.

A/n: Omg I'm so excited to get back to writing again!! I love Toman sm so expect more Tokyo Rev posts.

btw, Kisaki is a TRICK ASS BITCH bro. Like die....now. 

as always, please please please reblog and/or comment. I'm restarting my writing blog again, and would love love love to meet mutuals. 

My requests are: Open!

[chishiyaisasnack]

It’s under my skirt, Doctor

Hello everyone! It’s been a while. I finally got this little thing together, and I hope you all like it.

Disclaimer! This is smut. Stay away if you aren’t of agw or if you’re uncomfortable with the topic. Remember to use protection in real life!

Written and posted on mobile, I apologize for any wierd formatting.

Chishiyas life was work. Long hours, sometimes so long that he didn’t leave the hospital before his next shift. The couch in his office had become soft from where he slept, countless days and nights spent there alone. Not that it mattered, not to him. He liked his job. Kind of. There was nothing else he wanted to do anyway, so filling his life with something that kept his brain occupied and evolving was good enough. Once he stopped caring about all the injustice he focused solely on performing surgeries. The heart was an interresting thing, so small, so powerful. One wrong move and a life could end. Sometimes he wondered what that would feel like. He would never play with a life like that, he wasn’t completely insane, but the thought had showed up once or twice.

This particular shift got his mood turning all over the place. Everyone was whiny, rude and just hard to deal with. Twelve hours of pretending to be respectful was hard enough on the good days.

When he got back to his office he sank down into the couch, contemplating buying new cushions soon because they were starting to get uncomfortable. He needed to get his mind cleared out, to stop thinking about work and kids and parents who he wanted to toss in the trashcan.

A vibration went off in his pocket, making his head hurt just thinking about what they would need him for now. He just wanted to rest. So, when he picked it up and saw the notification on his screen he got pleasently suprised.

Y/N: Hey, sorry to disturb your work but I have a medical issue that I wondered if you could take a look at? I can come over in 10 minutes if that works for you.

He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. Normal people didn’t use the words ”medical issue” as a synonym for ”I want to fuck” but it worked very well for the two of them. Chishiya had met her at a work gathering and that turned out to be the best stress reliever he could wish for, and he knew that she used him for that exact same reason. Some might say that they were dating, but the only times they really met in person was just for sex and maybe some lunch afterwards. Chishiya did spend occasional nights at her place since she lived closer to the hospital than he did, and getting his dick wet then sleep in a bed instead of his office couch was a nice change.

Ten minutes later the telltale three knocks on his office door woke him up from his thoughts. Trying not to run to the door in excitement, he stood up, took a deep breath and changed into his normal ’I don’t care about anything’-face before opening it. The ’not caring about anything’-face changed as soon as he saw what was on the other end of the doorframe. He was not prepared for her standing there, panties hanging from slender fingers on one of her hands and her head cocked to the side. The skirt she was wearing was short and flowy, almost revealing what was, or rather what wasn’t underneath it.

”Eager are we?” Chishiya welcomed her in a smug voice, trying to hide the mess his head was already in. She winked at him in response.

”You usually don’t have very long so I thought I’d be prepared.” She walked straight to him, put the underwear in the chest pocket of his white doctors coat and kicked the door closed behind her. Chishiya could hear the click from the lock but was more interrested in the cleavage that her ”too tight to be comfortable”-top was showing. He didn’t even try to hide that he liked what he saw. He knew she liked it. A finger under his chin woke him up from his thoughts and when he looked up he was met with sparkling eyes full of excitement when she gazed back into his.

”Hmm.. I like how professional you look in this outfit” she purred as she smoothed her hands up his chest until she reached his neck, hands tangling in the blonde strands in the back until his hair tie fell to the floor, one thumb tracing his ear. ”I’d let you examine me any day.”

Chishiya rolled his eyes at her attempt at flirting, but rather than giving her a comeback he reached in and put his hands on her bare thighs, inching further up while he kissed that lovely space between her neck and shoulder that made her whimper every time.

”So, what did you want me to take a look at?” Chishiya murmered teasingly into her ear. She hummed and moved her hands back down to his shoulders, gripping onto the neck of his coat.

”It’s under my skirt, Doctor.”

In one swift move she grabbed the stethoscope still hanging around his neck and pulled him with her until they both hit the wall behind her, before crashing her lips into his with urgency, and Chishiya returned it with just as much desire as he was given. It was intoxicating, her soft lips, the sweet smell of her perfume, her hands tugging at his hair trying to coax him closer.

His hands went from her thighs to her waist, with just a quick squeeze at her ass first, clenching his fingers in the fabric of her shirt, pulling her even closer so that she could feel that this was affecting him too. His cock was already getting hard, pushing uncomfortably against his pants, but her soft stomach gave great friction whenever she moaned and rubbed herself against him.

Trying to deepen the kiss, she slid her tounge against his lips, making him smile against her whine when he didn’t answer her attempt. He was the one calling the shots and he wanted her to remember that. Instead of giving her what she wanted he pried his lips away from hers and targeted her neck.

The sweet sounds she made whenever his lips caressed her made his head spin. He couldn’t keep his hands still any longer and torturously slow started to inch them up the skin under her top, feeling the way she moved under them, how she was shivering against his touch and how her lungs moved with every heated breath that left her. He knew that undressing her probably wasn’t the best idea in case someone managed to interrupt them, but when he felt her breast under his palms, so soft and squeazable and utterly wonderful to nibble at, his desire to put his face between them took over his rationality. So, after he sucked down on the skin on her shoulder - and grinned at the sour moan she made - he pulled her top off and started his descent down her body. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard the thump that her head made when she threw it back against the wall but he was far more interrested in the goosebumps that spread under the line he licked down her collarbone. When he finally moved his mouth over her nipple he felt a hand grip his shoulder with a strenght that was sure to leave a mark.

The noises she made went straight to Chishiyas cock. His mind was so clouded by the need to be inside her that he was having trouble keeping his teasing facade in check. Nestling his face in her chest did ground him a bit though, it was the whines that followed it that made him throb in his pants.

”Fuck, Chishiya… lower please” she begged, shivering when he swept his tounge over her other nipple. The gentle squeeze from his other hand earned him another whimper - and a fist in his hair trying to push him further down. He complied with a quiet laugh, loving how aroused she was from just this. Not that he had anything to say about that, he was aching just as bad as she was.

He didn’t bother to take her skirt off, he just held it up with one hand while running the other up her inner thigh, slow and steady so that he could hear her quiet complaints that he took too long.

”Hold it” he commanded, looking at her and then the skirt, nodding towards it to make his point. A shaky hand took a hold of the hem of the skirt and he shifted his focus back to her soft thighs, leading up to her glistening center that he couldn’t wait to be inside. He couldn’t help himself and squeezed the inside of her thigh, thinking about how great it would feel to have them wrapped around him - then laughed at her impatient grunt before giving in and giving her what she asked for.

With one hand he hiked her leg over his shoulder and then he dove in and let his tounge spread her open, loving the wetness he was met with. A cascade of ’yes’-es fell from her mouth as she rolled her hips in time with his tounges movements. A long lick between the folds, flicking over the clit, sucking, kissing, circling… he knew exactly what she liked and he gave it to her. Every time her moans got a little louder he slowed down, dragging out the sensation (and pissing her off just a little just because he could). It was his favourite leisure activity and he could go for hours if he had the time. Unfortunately he didn’t and with a last lick he stopped, her disappointed groan chiming like music in his ears.

He rose to his feet, one hand still lingering on her thigh, the other moving a strand of hair from her face that was so lovely and flushed from desire. There was a hint of irritation from the way her eyebrows scrunched together, but it disappeared when he used the same hand that he just caressed her cheek with to draw a line along her pussy, wet and warm, and so inviting, making her squirm under his touch.

”I want to take my time with you but we’re in a bit of a hurry,” he reminded her. ”Come here.”

Chishiya started walking towards the couch, sat down and patted his lap as an invitation for her to sit.

”I’m tired and have been working all day,” Chishiya playfully told her, watching her eyes roll as she walked towards him, which made him chuckle. He enjoyed how obvious she was with everything and that she didn’t take any of his shit. She was strong and powerful and he wouldn’t have a chance against her wits if she wanted to ruin him. And he didn’t want it any other way.

”You need a new couch” she complained while straddling his lap, knees sinking down too far and throwing off her balance before she put her hands on his shoulder and shuffled her way forward to hover over his length.

”But I really like my couch” he lied, lazily putting his hands on her waist to pretend to help her.

”Sure you do. Take off your pants, or are you too tired to do that to, Doctor?”

For once he hurried, mostly because his dick was aching and he couldn’t wait for it to be inside her. So he moved his pants and boxers out of the way, enough to release his cock. She didn’t waste a second and sank down onto it right away.

Both of them moaned, her from finally being filled and him from finally being hugged by her warm, wet walls. When she started to move, riding him nice and deep, he couldn’t help himself and let his head fall back so he could watch her face as she fucked herself on him.

”Fuck, I’ve been needing this” he groaned as she took him in, Chishiya pushing as far in as he could to savour that warm and tight feeling that her insides gave him. ”You feel so good.”

”Fuck…” was the only answer he got, but it sounded perfect. Breathless and broken, turning into another moan when his cock hit her sweet spot again.

She rode him deep and fast, her wet walls stroking his cock in rhythm with her movements. Desperate to feel more of it, he bucked up into her to bury himself as deep as he could. Her hands was on his shoulders, nails digging deep into his white coat.

Chishiyas hands were everywhere, grabbing her ass hard as she bounced on his lap, sliding up her waist when he went back to rolling her hips, cupping her breasts when he took over and fucked her from below. The bliss on her face drove him on, making him thrust harder and angling his hips so that he hit that spongy spot inside her with every thrust. He could feel her getting close, her insides tightening and clamping down around his cock, stroking the life out of him with it. He wouldn’t last much longer either - he needed her to come so that he could join her. So he slid a hand down to her center, putting two fingers on her clit and started to circle it in time with his thrusts. The loud groan she let out at the sensation made the fire in his stomach grow even more and, fuck, he needed her to orgasm.

”Y/N, come for me,” he hissed and pressed down harder on her clit. ”Fuck, come on my cock.”

And so she did. With a rough moan into his neck he felt her walls clamping down on his cock, so fucking tight, before convulsing around him. Maybe he should have stopped and let her catch her breath but his hips moved at their own will now. He fucked her with desperation, each thrust bringing him closer, until he emptied himself deep inside her. She moaned as he did, rocking her hips to stimulate him more until his cock had stopped twitching.

Chishiyas hands landed on her waist again, this time drawing soft circles on her skin, making her shiver under his touch. Her breath was warm against his neck when she nuzzled her face there. He let her rest on him, he was too satisfied to move anyway. They sat like that until both their breathing had calmed down, and until he had gone soft enough to slip out of - although he didn’t want to. She felt too good. But even he wasn’t able to control his body that much. He had tried.

When she moved it was with shaky legs, tired from overworking them on that dumb couch. He smirked as he helped her up onto her feet, casting a glance on the clock hanging on the wall above his desk. There were still time to have some more fun, and even if his dick was tired, his tounge wasn’t. Standing up next to her he bent in, moved a strand of her hair away from her face, and softly spoke into her ear.

”So, is there anything else you want me to examine?”

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

You don’t need a skincare beauty routine at all if you don’t want one. 

Of course you need to wash your face at least semi-regularly, just like you need to wash the rest of your body (for hygiene and health - washing germs, sweat and dirt off), and you need to put on sunscreen at least on days where you’ll be outside and there’s an UV index of 3 or higher (for skin cancer prevention). But apart from that? You don’t really NEED to do anything at all. 

Certain beauty influencers and companies will try hard to tell you otherwise but, really, you will not die, the world will not implode, the birds will not stop singing.

Or in slightly more realistic worries: You can live a fulfilling life and be a whole adult, even if you never become the kind of person who religiously does ten steps of skincare every morning. 

You won’t even necessarily have horribly-looking skin without a skincare routine. („horrible“ is a very subjective term when it comes to beauty anyway, and much of what we are taught to think of as horrible is simply the beauty industry pushing a beauty standard that is purposefully unreachable, so you’ll keep buying their products). Think about it: for every person who swears by their 25-step-routine, you’ll find someone who swears by their nothing-but-sunscreen routine - and they’ll both have beautiful skin. Clearly, healthy skin isn’t achieved by any one specific product or routine, otherwise there wouldn’t be that many different products or routines being promoted!

All this is not to say that routines are meaningless. Many people find something in their skincare routine that actually has little to do with skin: regular routines provide stability and comfort. It can be a beautiful moment of calmness before you start the day. Doing the same thing before bedtime every night can help your brain switch into sleep mode more easily. Skincare can be a good way to integrate some pleasant touch and sensory experiences into your daily life. Skincare (different ingredients and what they do etc.) can be a fascinating topic to learn about. Trying a new product can be something exciting to look forward to. And so on, and so forth! 

But none of that changes the simple truth: if you don’t want to have a skincare routine, it’s okay to just not have one. No matter if it’s something like “I’d like one, I just don’t have the energy/ motivation/ headspace/ money/ freedom to build one right now” or “I struggle too much with forming reliable habits to stick to one routine for a longer time” or “Skincare makes me uncomfortable because of gender dysphoria/ sensory overload/ etc.” or if it’s just “I don’t feel like it”  or “I find skincare boring” - it’s okay to not have a routine. Use your sunscreen when necessary and call it a day. You’ll be fine. 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[lizdive]

plz im begging u. can u do father figure! welt with teen! reader 😔🙏

ofc i can anon no need to beg <33 welt the man that you are,,, welt you are so man so father so perfect,,,

notes 𐙚 gender-neutral reader — "you" used to refer to reader ,, reader is a teenager ,, platonic relationships ,, short

⭑ WELT who instantly takes you under his wing when you join the express. You’re so young and no matter your strength and abilities he still wants to protect you from the dangers that come with being a trailblazer,,

⭑ He’ll always go on missions with you — it’s like those parents that chaperone their kid’s field trips,, you’re the reason he’s going on more missions and the others don’t complain because his presence is literally protection personified !!

⭑ If you’re cold he’ll give you his scarf !! Wrap it around your neck, around your shoulders as a shawl, do whatever,,, just pls stay warm :( but if you get sick, that’s okay !! He suddenly becomes a professional doctor and you’ll be better in no time.

⭑ He’s very good at comforting you if you’re ever upset,, WELT’s a pretty observant guy so he’ll notice the signs no matter how small but he’ll wait for you to seek comfort first,,, but if you’re not the type of person to do so he’ll comfort you first !! Your definition of comfort is up to you.

⭑ If you don’t like sleeping alone because you get scared or you have nightmares, his room is always open for you <33 no need to be embarrassed !! And nobody can tease you for it, anyways, because they’ll get scolded by him.

⭑ Indulges in your hobbies and would love if you could share your interests with him !! He’ll do his best to remember so that when it’s your birthday he can get you a gift relating to your interests or hobbies.

⭑ His heart will stop if you call him dad/papa/a parental term of any sort. He’ll pause, blink, and then smile softly as he lets out a soft "yes? Anything you need?" or a "alright, be careful."

⭑ Sometimes WELT might come off as overbearing, but he means well and just worries for you. ESPECIALLY during dangerous missions like penacony and the luofu. 95% of the time you’ll be right next to him or in his sight so he can protect you.

⭑ On the topic of penacony, would book a room with two dream pools if possible and if you’re comfortable with it. If you want your privacy he doesn’t mind, he can just get a room next to or across from yours. You both give each other the spare keycards of your rooms.

[fadingdaggerr]

Hii!! I hope you've had a great day!!

So, I had this idea and I can't stop thinking about it, it's like rotating in my brain like a Rotisserie Chicken. IDK if you're still taking requests but I just had to send this.

Anyway, Melissa and reader are in someone else's house (R parents or idk some kind of sleepover with the teachers) and for some reason they can't sleep together in the same bed/room, like they're used to, which is concerning R because Melissa doesn't really sleep well alone.

But Mel tries to ease R saying she'll be just fine for one night, and very reluctantly R agrees.

Well, it turns out she can't. R and obviously a few others in the house wake up to Melissa's screaming in the middle of the night and R runs to her, shes is sobbing, shaking and clutching R for dearlife, just absolutely terrified and not even letting R move. R calm her down and take care of her, like with a lot of fluff and comfort.

I'm just obsessed with R taking care of Mel and being really sweet.

Yeah that's it. I love your stories, they are really really good. And I could only think of you when this thing came out of my brain.

+ I absolutely loved what you did in "Know I'm Alive", I was kicking my feet and internally screaming. (I sent that anon 👉👈) So thanks, I enjoyed it a lot, like a lot a lot, like, if I could I would eat that it.

You're really talented!! <3

by the sun, by the moon

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above! | 4.8k

includes: no pronoun use for r, fluff, hurt/comfort, family play fights/sibling banter, r’s family adores mel, probably ooc!mel oops

warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamic (short), attempted violence (short), mentions/insinuations of sex, one outdated traditional value, sleep difficulties/nightmares, anxiety/panic attack

note: please feel free to skip the section that discusses the unhealthy relationship dynamic/violence. it begins after the first section divide with the line “for her entire childhood…” those topics are only explicitly stated there and only referenced one other time. please do not feel as tho you need to read triggering material to understand the story, i tried to make it understandable without having to read potentially distressing content :)

Melissa’s head tips back when she hears you coming back downstairs, having been waiting for you since your mom called during The Real Housewives time. The way you’re watching your feet with furrowed brows makes her fully turn until she’s kneeling on the couch, leaning over the back to get closer to you.

“Something wrong?” Melissa asks, reaching to grab your hand to pull you closer.

You shake your head, “no, no.” Warm hands rise to cradle the redhead’s face, “how would you feel about spending the night at my parents place Saturday? They’re hosting Jonah’s birthday, wanted our help to set up the night before.”

Her eyes widen, “just Saturday night?”

“Just Saturday,” you reaffirm, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. She cautiously nods, barely moving. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it, I’m not going to make you.”

“I know, I know,” she says through her breath, “we’ll stay the night.” The kiss you press to her forehead feels heavier than just a silent thank you.

—☽—

For her entire childhood and through her marriage, Melissa slept like a rock. She slept through Kristen Marie’s and Joe’s snoring, her college girlfriend’s sleep talking, her parents having a screaming match so loud the cops got called. Before starting teaching, she even had to train herself to wake up at the sound of her alarm, knowing that being late to the school was ten times worse than being late to JC Penney.

Two years after she finally left Joe, Melissa met Eric.

Tall, charming, nice-smelling Eric with his salt-and-pepper beard always tidy, a covered up Marine tattoo on his forearm. He’d bought her drink after his friend accidentally knocked hers off the counter of the bar, and two hookups later, she was agreeing to a real date. Three months later, she was his girlfriend and allowed him into her apartment. He got to know where the spare key was hidden after a year.

Eric was everything Joe was not. During arguments, Joe would shut down and leave, only returning when he smells like cheap liquor and some other woman’s perfume. Eric always stayed, told her his point of view, listened to hers, calmly told her when she was overreacting. He was smooth, never raised a hand towards her or threw things at the walls. Melissa always knew when she was in the wrong, but he never made her feel bad about it.

Eric was particular. He liked his shirts folded a certain way, beer only from a glass, and silence when he worked. If she was excited about anything, he only ever allowed her to speak about it until he’d lost interest, almost always by the time she paused to take a breath. When he properly introduced her to his friends, his hand on her knee would tighten when she spoke. Quickly, she learned that the tighter the grip, the less she should speak. Four hours at some sports bar and Melissa had only been able to say a total of six sentences. Eric liked Melissa quiet. Melissa became quiet.

He started to prod about meeting her family, and she shut him down. Again and again. The fourth time, he banged his fist against the table, the end of his fork creating a small dent. Green eyes fixated on the dent as he began to calmly explain that he had introduced her to his family, it was her turn. Mumbling those were your buddies got her stuck on her own couch that night, clutching the blanket Nana made her before she started college.

Two months later, she began to slowly bring back Eric’s clothing to his apartment on the off-chance they went there for a night. Grading her student’s assignments began to take longer and she triple-checked the scores to waste more time, suddenly too tired to have sex or even talk before going to sleep. Otherwise, she listened to his rules, spoke when spoken to, cooked when asked.

The morning he narrowly avoided calling her a moron to her face when she made the eggs over-medium instead over-easy, she officially made her choice. That night, at the Italian restaurant he brought her to, she called it off.

“Why?” Eric asked, eyes stone, unwavering from hers.

She took a deep breath, “you treat me like a pet. Speak when spoken to, move when told, I’m sick of it.” Her grip on the table cloth tightened, “tomorrow, I will put your stuff outside. You’ll pick it up when I tell you to, and then you will leave.”

He sits back in his chair, tongue poking at his bottom lip, “and if I don’t want to break up?”

“Too bad,” she shrugs. Standing from the table, Melissa leaves him with the check and the sad excuse of Italian cuisine on the table.

At work the next day, it takes all morning, lunch, and prep to fully debrief Barbara on everything that had been going on. It made sense to the kindergarten teacher why she had yet to meet this Eric fella, but after hearing this, she knew Melissa wasn’t proud of getting herself in this situation. A promise of a wine weekend and greasy food makes Melissa truly smile. Barbara hadn’t realized how fake every little grin had been until now, she missed her best friend.

That afternoon, Melissa came home to the loose brick that hid her spare key ajar. The blood in her veins runs cold. Opening the unlocked door, glass scratches across the wooden floor, crunching under her heels. Every picture frame, the television, the radio, the coffee table, the stovetop, the tea set from her grandfather, all smashed to pieces. Holes were in nearly every wall, the stair railing broken. The entire first floor was destroyed, only upstairs was left pristine, as if nothing had happened at all. Bat in hand, she checks every closet, under her bed, in the bathtub, everywhere. He was gone.

Leaning against the wall, she slides down and sobs. Melissa is forced to make a choice she didn’t want to make. Opening her phone, she calls Joe.

Joe, despite everything he had done, was at Melissa’s house within the hour. In one hand he held a bag from the hardware store, containing new locks and keys, the other hand had his very own bat, nails pounded through the wood. Like he said when they signed the papers, just because he wasn’t in love with her, doesn’t mean he didn’t care.

Three weeks later, after things had settled and locks were changed, Melissa felt more secure. Still every night, she woke at every sound, wind and the smoke detector quickly became her mortal enemies. Bundled in her soft pajamas and thick comforter one night, she finally fell into a hard, deep sleep forced from pure exhaustion.

Paperclips, a screwdriver, and a small sheet of flexible metal are all someone needs to pick a lock and shift the deadbolt. Eric surely knew that, always the smart man, yet never the brightest. Slowly, he moved up the stairs, bourbon fueling his motions as well as his heavy steps.

A particularly loud thunk wakes Melissa, hand flying under her pillow to the bat Joe had made her promise to keep there. Another thump made her jump out of bed and to the side of her dresser with an iron grip around Edith Houghton. When her door opened, she stayed pressed into the corner, hoping she stayed hidden just long enough for him to leave so she could grab her phone.

Liquor breeds stupidity, worsens it when it is already present, and Eric had left to check the bathroom. Quickly, Melissa called the police, shakily texting Joe as she whispered to the operator. At that point, she didn’t care who got there first. She just wanted to be free of him.

She moved to a new apartment before the month even ended. Barbara insisted on cameras, which Gerald installed. Joe insisted on a nailed up bat, which he made himself. Not a night has gone by since then where she didn’t have it within arms reach of the bed.

It took six years for her to sleep again.

—☽—

The light tracing of nonsensical patterns on her abdomen is what wakes Melissa, eyes cracking open to the bright sun peeking through the curtains. She wishes now, more than ever, that she had agreed to the blackout curtains, groaning into her pillow. With the knowledge she’s now awake, several soft kisses press against her shoulder, traveling to her neck. With a sleepy grin on her face, Melissa turns to face you.

“Morning,'' you mumble against her lips, hand traveling up to her hair to separate the knots that you created. “Sleep good?”

The only response you get is a little huff that almost sounds like yeah, her face burying in your neck to hide from the light. You lay there with her, finishing your detangling mission as Melissa’s nails trace up and down your arm. A final, sound kiss lands on the crown of her head before you shuffle out from underneath her, reaching for your previous discarded university shirt and sweatpants. The redhead watches through droopy eyes, scanning over you before your pajamas cover everything she adores.

“Gotta get up, beautiful,” you say through a yawn as you walk out the room, “we need to be leaving for one.” A tiny groan escapes her lips as she rises from the bed, though a small smile crosses her lips when she sees your sweatshirt thrown over the chair in the corner, just waiting for her.

Not even halfway down the stairs, there’s a clatter from the kitchen and a quiet exclamation of fuck. “You’re not even awake and you want me up,” Melissa says as she walks to the coffee maker. She’s met with a small slap on her ass in return, not even caring to be embarrassed of the girlish giggle she lets out.

Whose fault it is that you’re late leaving, who could tell? Between the forgoing packing and wrapping your cousin’s present last night for a taste of Melissa and her lack of pants this morning, it’s hard to say. Nothing that going a gentle twenty over on the highway can’t mend.

Driving up the dirt road, the dense trees thinned and your parent’s yellow house came into view. Your father’s questionably functional truck sits in the front of the garage, your mom and brother’s cars parked close together on the lawn. Seeing the way your hands tighten on the steering wheel, Melissa slides her hand from your elbow to the free hand on your thigh, playing with your rings to calm you. Being at your parents house was always overwhelming, fun, but overwhelming.

Narrowly avoiding scraping the side, you pull in next to your brother’s car. Looking at each other, you and Melissa give each other a nod of we got this. She’d been over here before, she’d been to three family reunions and almost every birthday party, but never had you two stayed the night, always being some of first to leave to sleep in your own bed.

With a little grunt, you hop out of the car and jog to Melissa’s side to open her door. She gives you a half glare when you tap her hand away from helping carry the bags in, you never let her lift a finger, if you can help it.

“Well, look who decided to show up!”

Both you and Melissa jump at your mother’s yell from the porch, bangles clanking together as she widely waves to the both of you. Gravel crunches under her feet as she rushes over to the two of you, immediately pulling Melissa into a hug. Before you were banned from saying it, you used to joke that your parents preferred your girlfriend to their own child. The giant smile on Melissa’s face when she interacts with your family makes it worth it.

Tumbling upstairs, you bring your bags into your childhood bedroom with Melissa close behind. Even with every time she had been here, she loved being in your room. It was a time capsule of your life before college, all the posters of bands and movies still hanging on the walls, trinkets covering every space. She particularly loved the little collection of rocks on your bookshelf, clearly in order from favorite to least favorite.

The bed bobs as you both drop onto the mattress, groaning at the comfort after three hours in the car. You turn your face towards her, leaning to press a kiss to her shoulder, “I love you.”

Melissa leans in closer, “I love you, too.” She watches your eyes flick to her lips, beating you to the chase and pressing her lips to yours softly. It takes every ounce of effort to not moan at your tongue tracing her lip, her hand coming up to grip your shirt and keep you close. Stomping up the stairs makes you both jump apart, feeling like teenagers getting caught, not that the room was helping.

The door opens to show your dad, boots trekking in dirt that will inevitably get him in trouble with your mom. The hand not on the doorknob is over his eyes, “you two better be decent. Ma has lunch ready downstairs and clothing is probably mandatory.”

“Knock it off,” you mumble as you shuffle towards him so he can give your head a gentle noogie. Neither of you were big on hugs, only really being physically affectionate with your partners, but the love is always clear in every fistbump and hand on your shoulder.

You and Melissa trail behind your father as he goes to the kitchen, both fighting laughs after nearly getting caught by your dad. However, the second your mom peers over at the two of you, you both act like you had been silent the whole time, eyes flicking around in feigned innocence.

Lunch is a mismatch of all the foods your mom made for the birthday party the next day, making you all be her taste testers, even if she only really wants Melissa’s opinion as the other cook in the family. Pasta salad, potato salad, mac and cheese, shortcake, even some chicken with her new lemon pepper recipe. You and your brother fight over who gets first dibs on the pasta salad, ending with his wife taking the serving spoon from your hands and grabbing some for herself.

“Act your age,” Kennedy says to her husband, making you laugh, before she gives you a sharp glance, “that goes for you, too.” Melissa turns away to unsuccessfully hide her own laugh from you.

Lunch ends with your mom and your brother arguing over another serving of macaroni, “we need food for tomorrow! Fuck’s sake, Marcus.”

—☽—

Your father divides everyone into groups to set up the backyard. Your mother takes Melissa and Kennedy to help set up the tables and lights, forcing you and Marcus to help your father with the tent, bonfire pit, and yardgames.

Getting all the yardgames for the little cousins was the easy part, even if it took a while because the three of you had to play a game of cornhole before you could do anything else. None of you got a single one in after two turns, making you all set into defeat, the game was agreed between the three of you to be stupid now. With your father taking a break now, getting the tent together was a doomed venture with you and Marcus.

“If you don’t let me hold it up, it’s gonna keep falling.”

“Fuck off! No, it won’t,” Marcus says with confidence, trying to stand the tent all at once before securing it. Four had already fallen, and a job that should only take twenty minutes was taking nearly an hour.

“How is it gonna stay up if nothing’s holding it, huh? Thought you knew everything?” He flips you off and doesn’t answer, continuing putting the spike in the ground, though without the other end being held up, the weight pulls it down again. Giving up, you walk away and attempt to find your dad for something else to do. You stop in your tracks, just step from the patio.

Watching Melissa with your family always makes butterflies erupt in your chest. She used to be so nervous around them, uncharacteristically quiet and meek, but now she’s almost as carefree with them as she is with her own. The sunlight makes her hair shine, and it’s damn near impossible to look away. It seems you’re of similar mind, her head turning towards you, fighting a grin when she sees the dopey grin on your face.

You almost start to walk towards her, but a strong hand pulls you back. Your dad pushes the hatchet into your hands, “you’re on firewood duty.”

“Bu-”

“Nope, you’re not slinking off to your girl. Go chop the wood, Casanova,” he says as he walks back to help Marcus with the tent.

It’s hours before you even get a chance to see Melissa again, as if your parents were keeping you apart. Which they were, knowing that you’d ignore everything you had to do if it meant you got to just look at Melissa. By the time you got back inside, the button up you’d been wearing was abandoned on a lawn chair and you were out of breath. How much firewood does one bonfire even need?

Walking in the backdoor into the kitchen, Melissa is leaning against the counter, her eye on the mixer filled with what will be cheesecake going to your tanktop clad form as she chats with Kennedy. Creeping up beside her, you wrap an arm around her waist and press a lingering kiss to her cheek, mumbling a greeting into her skin before trudging upstairs to shower the sweat and dirt off.

—☽—

By the end of the night, everyone is half-awake and struggling to keep their eyes open as a TV movie drones on. Neither you or Melissa are paying attention, too wrapped up in one another in the arm chair. Legs dangling over the arm, Melissa is seated on your lap, head tucked into your shoulder as you mindlessly play with her hair. The hand on the back of your neck stops its soft ministrations, her breathing slowing as she fights falling asleep.

You speak quietly for only her to hear, “you ready for bed?” She just nods against you, and you tap her legs to prompt her to move. Her hands hold onto your arm to steady herself, wavering where she stands.

“Alright, we’re calling it. Night guys, we’ll see you in the morning,” you announce into the room as Melissa starts going towards the stairs, not trusting her ability to speak when she’s this tired. You get a quiet chorus of night before you walk to the stairs, but your mother’s voice stops your movements.

“Jellybean, could you do me a favor and take the trash out before you head upstairs?” she asks without taking her eyes off the TV.

You internally groan before nodding, turning to Melissa, “go up, baby. I’ll be right there.”

This catches your mother’s attention, immediately moving to face you, “you mean to say ‘goodnight,’ right?”

“What?”

Her eyebrows rise, “you’re saying goodnight, then going to your room. Right?” Melissa’s blood immediately runs cold, color draining from her face. If she was tired two minutes ago, she was wide awake now.

“No...” you say slowly, confused, “why would Mel not also be in there?” You peak over your shoulder to Melissa, giving her a look before your attention is back on your mother.

“So, you’re staying in the guest room? Or is Melissa?”

Your face screws up, “Neither of us? My room’s got a full, that’s fine for us.”

“No.”

“Hell you mean ‘no,’ Ma? Marcus and Kennedy are sharing a full, it’s not a huge deal,” you hear Melissa step down from the stairs, her shaky hand holding your elbow.

“Marcus and Kennedy are married, unlike you two. I know you live together, but my roof, my rules. You know that,” she says matter-of-factly. The other three people in the room pointedly avoid looking at you, not wanting to get on your mom’s bad side.

You argue back, “that’s fucking ridiculous, Ma. We are grown adults, in a relationship.” The arched brow on your mother’s face tells you that you shouldn’t be arguing, but she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know about the panic that is starting to eat away at Melissa’s veins at the sudden thought of sleeping without you, something she hasn’t done once in over three years now.

“No rings, two beds. Don’t think I won’t be checking.”

Not wanting to make more of a scene, Melissa tugs on your arm to gain your attention. Turning to her, you can see the silent plea in her eyes for you to give it up. Shoulders sagging, you let out a grumbled fine. Breaking away from her, you go to the kitchen and roughly pull the trash from the bin. It takes a great deal of effort to not slam the door as you stomp to the garage. When you come back in, you don’t bother saying anything to anyone, just wrapping an arm around Melissa to guide her upstairs.

When you get into your room, you shut the door and lean against it with a huff. The two of you silently change into your pajamas, moving slowly from exhaustion and an attempt to prolong your time together. Melissa turns away to fold her clothes on the bed, and you move to wrap your arms around her waist, propping your chin on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I’ll stay in here tonight. Not like she can’t ground me anymore.”

Melissa turns in your arms, loosely wrapping her own around your shoulders, “it’s alright, I’ll be fine. I don’t want her mad at you for my sake.”

“Baby-”

“Don’t do that,” she says, though the sigh in her voice gives away her uncertainty, “I’ll be okay, amore.”

Your eyes scan over her face before you nod. Her arms pull you closer, noses brushing before she presses a sound kiss to your lips. Melissa’s arms shift and her hands cup your face, moving your head to press kisses to your cheeks, forehead, and chin, until the sour look on your face disappears.

Tugging her into you, you bury your head into her neck, pressing a long kiss there. From her neck you mumble, “I’ll be in the room right next door.”

“I’ll survive in the guest room, this is your bedroom,” she says, though she doesn’t fully mean it.

“What’s mine is yours. Plus, this one’s more comfortable, you’ll thank me later,” you hug her tighter, “so... I will be next door.”

“I told you, I’ll be fine,” she says. It’s more for her than you this time. Three years. Three years of falling asleep with you still awake beside her and waking up with you already looking at her.

You walk her back towards the bed, getting in with her, though not under the covers. With everyone, especially your mother, you don’t think it’ll hurt to stay until Melissa falls asleep. Her back presses to your front, hand holding yours to her chest, fast beating heart beneath. In a hushed voice, you speak about little things that don’t matter in hopes that it will calm her enough. Slowly her breath evens out, face burying into the pillow as it always does when you hold her like this.

Carefully, you detangle yourself from her and press a kiss to her hair, “I love you.” Stepping out of the room slowly, you leave the door cracked just a little and eye Melissa before turning. At the top of the stairs is your mother, brows raised.

“You better be going to your own bed,” she says quietly, though her tone is hard.

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “I am. Just had to make sure Melissa was asleep first.” You try to go into the room next door, but your mom’s face is silently asking for context, “she doesn’t sleep well. Different place, different sleeping arrangement, it’s difficult.”

You don’t particularly appreciate the dismissive way your mom just nods before walking towards the master bedroom, clearly thinking it was just an excuse, but it’s too late to fight about it. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you can wake up and crawl into bed with Melissa before she wakes. You watch the crack in the door and listen for Melissa until sleep comes over you.

—☽—

Something wakes you just past three in the morning, an ear splitting scream coming from next door. At first, you think it’s just your own anxiety, closing your eyes slowly. A second scream, this time of your name, and you’re springing out of bed, throwing the door open hard enough to bounce off the wall and slam shut. Four steps bring you to your childhood bedroom, rapidly swinging the door open to run in, not noticing the others joining you in the hall.

When you get into the room, moonlight illuminates Melissa where she’s sitting up with a hand gripping her shirt as she breathes in quick, panicked pants, eyes flying around the room until they land on you. Before she can even reach for you, you’re practically pouncing on the bed to get in front of her. Your hands go to her shoulders, her own gripping your forearms, her watery eyes darting around your face. Taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, you motion for Melissa to mimic you, trying to slow her rapid breath and heart.

Short gasps become slow, shaky breaths as panic begins to fade and tears form. A whimper of your name makes you pull her into you, her arms gripping your shirt and she cries into your neck. Between broken sobs, only the words window, knife, and everywhere and mention of a him come through, but you understood. This wasn’t the first time Eric’s actions haunted her at night, though it had been nearly two years since she’d woken up in a sweat.

Peeking over your shoulder, you see your parents and brother in the doorway. The look you give your mother is filled with anger and a raised brow that says I told you to listen. The clear fury makes your father pull her back towards their own room, pushing your brother to his. Some level of courtesy hits your mom, closing the door fully before she gets tugged away.

Attention back on Melissa, you alternate between playing with the ends of her hair and lightly dragging your nails over her back under her shirt. You tuck her hair behind her ear, tacky from tears, “you’re safe, Mel. Nothing and no one’s going to hurt you, I promise. I wouldn’t let them.”

Rocking side to side gently, you feel her breathing return to normal, body no longer shaking from tears. Trying not to jostle her, you turn your body to lay down with her, keeping her tucked into your neck with your arms around her. Pressing a kiss to her head, you slide an arm down to grab her hand, lacing your fingers together.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, just below your ear.

You squeeze her hand, “you never have to apologize for this. If anything, I’m the one that should be sorry. I should have stayed.”

She sniffled, “I’m a grown woman, I should be able to sleep alone.”

“And I should be able to stand up to my mother about sleeping in the same bed as my girlfriend, yet here we are,” you say jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

Thankfully, she chuckles, the vibration on your skin making you smile, “so it’s all your fault.”

“I’ll gladly take the blame,” you mumble as you settle into the bed more, relaxing as you feel the redhead relax against you.

In a sudden move, Melissa props herself up over you, hair dangling in your face. Leaning down, she kisses your forehead, then each cheek, and finally your lips, long and loving. It’s a quiet thanks that she will never owe you.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you more,” you whisper back.

It takes half an hour for sleep to creep back in, Melissa’s breathing growing slow where she rests on your chest, your heart beating under her ear. When she eventually falls back asleep against your chest, you stay awake and trace lines on her back. You’ll gladly stand guard if it means she sleeps peacefully, stay awake if it means she’s safe.

note: solaris write a fic under 3k like u planned challenge good lord man. also thank you thank you for the compliment, it’s an honor to be the first person u thought of to write this. i hope i did ur vision justice <3

as always, feedback appreciated <3

[sailoryooons]

Lights | Episode 1 | jjk (m)

❀ Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Producer! F. reader

❀ Summary: Meeting Jungkook was a chance of fate. A moment frozen in time, eyes meeting across a room full of lights. The more the two of you advance in your career, the more lost in the lights you become. What if you never find your way back?

❀ Word Count: 15,069 

❀ Genre: Heavy angst, Idolverse, strangers to lovers, eventual smut

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

❀ Warnings: Discussions of manipulation in the music industry, there are gentle hints at the potential for Jungkook and reader to be addicts, general topics of competitiveness between kids growing up, recreational drinking, references to people using sex as advantage, allusions to topics of promiscuity, recreational drug use (weed), reader’s agent straight up trying to get her to have sexual relations with people, implications of using people, reader is aggressively goal-oriented, Jungkook and reader are a little naive and sort of love-at-first-sighting, explicit language, explicit sexual content, three sex scenes, sex in a public place (restaurant bathroom), oral (m. and f. receiving), spit play, spit in general, light degradation, rough sex, sex under the influence of alcohol (both are able to consent and want it), Jungkook drives after drinking (not implied or referenced that he’s drunk but he is driving after having glasses of wine), nipple play, vaginal fingering, reverse cowgirl, ass play (f. receiving), missionary, fucking from the side, a little bit of come play, voyeurism if you squint, a hint of possessiveness, literally so many bodily fluids like a ton, reader kind of being in something like subspace and being fucked stupid/to sleep basically, aftercare referenced, implied toxic relationships with past coworkers/current coworkers, references to vicious/toxic work industry, light depictions of cocaine use (not explicitly seen) by a side character, honestly Jungkook and reader are a lil cringe in this and moving very fast but they have addictive personalities idk what to tell you, there are hints to their addictive personalities, talk about social anxiety needing medication/alcohol to take the edge off (not good to do people!!!), very light hinting at traits that will be a problem 

❀ Published: October 6, 2023

❀ A/N: This might be the most gratuitous thing I have ever written - it actually might be too much sex? At what point is it too much and just too much come and kissing and the word c*ck, genuinely? Anyway, my goal with this chapter wasn’t so much plot as it was to introduce how volatile these two have the potential to be. If you’ve ever known someone who has struggled with addiction, you will notice the little innocent behaviors that have the potential for utter disaster. These are two people who are wildly native and very much think they are in control of their life, but who are a little reckless. It will seem like they get together fast because they do with like.. Very little regard for anything else. I really hope you enjoy this story. I think it will become sort of a little thing for me to put parts of past traumas I have into it to finally let them go, maybe! Also - I am using the western naming pattern in this with first name last name because of the ambiguity of where this story takes place. ❀ A/N 2: This story was originally named ‘Hiraeth’ but after chatting with a kind anon, I realized that the definition and translation of the word did not fit and lost cultural context from its original meaning and thus changed the title to Lights. Thank you @here2bbtstrash for the loyal beta read and @gimmethatagustd for helping me get VERY unstuck multiple times by letting me talk in circles and offering words of wisdom.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. This series does not attempt to paint a realistic depiction of idols, or the industry, or draw comparisons. None of the scenes or elements in this series in any way reflect how I perceive the music industry and do not represent any opinions. This is not intellectual commentary, it is just straight-up fiction. 

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Ask | Lights Playlist | Previous Episode | Tag Lists | Next Episode

Jungkook looks like sin. It’s the first thought you have as you pause at the bottom of the stairs, eyes nearly blinded by the twinkling lights above. But there he is, standing in the glow of flashing purples and pinks, looking right at you.

He’s standing at one of the booths on the far end of the club, which has been rented for an event that you don’t remember the details of. His eyes land on you, and though you’ve never met, you suddenly feel a connection snap into place, something magnetic. For a moment, everything goes quiet, like in those romance books you used to read when you were a teenager.

Before, it used to seem a little silly. You didn’t think it was possible to suddenly see no one else in a room full of people except one person.

Now, it doesn’t seem that preposterous. You’re only able to take in a fraction of information in the second that your eyes connect with his: round face, long, wavy hair, and an arm full of tattoos with a drink held in his hand. 

He is stunning. You already knew that from the other two times you’ve caught a flash of him at events, but every time you see him in person, you’re awed all over again by the effortless way he catches the eye.

The tension between the two of you breaks as someone knocks into you and you stumble, trying not to twist your ankle with the high heels you’re currently wearing. Too short to see over the rest of the crowd, you lose sight of Jungkook. Music comes rushing back to you, the vibration of the base and the hum of synth making it nearly impossible to hear what your agent says next to you.

“What?”

“Do you remember the list I gave you?” Mila demands, grabbing your wrist and pulling you through the crowd. It hurts a little as she drags you along, impatient after arriving at the event late because you had a problem with your wardrobe for the evening. “That list is imperative.” 

“Yes.” 

The list is impossible. You have memorized at least two dozen people that your agent expects you to talk to and rub elbows with tonight. Some of them are certainly doable - people at your own company, artists you’re familiar with. Others are ridiculous, including idols that are several calibers above your station as a newly promoted producer at ILIA. 

Sure, you have the new glow of recent popularity after some surprising award wins and being likable on social media - which matters to your company as much as producing award-winning records - but you know what they all think. You know that they think your parents paid someone or that you fucked your way out of being a junior producer. 

It helps that neither is true. It doesn’t help that you would have done it anyway, if it meant feeding the simmering hunger inside of you that never seems to fade, your desire to win outweighing everything else. 

“You should catch up with your old friend Luna, she should be easy. You trained with her in the early building stages of ILIA.”

“Yeah,” you mutter faintly. “I remember her.”

You remember almost all of them. Something about spending your formative years with a bunch of teenagers being pitted against one another to be the best has made their faces and names permanent. Even the ones who didn’t make the cut or quit on their own.

Quitting is a foreign concept to you. It’s not as foreign as Mila kissing the cheek of some manager at some company you don’t know, pushing you toward them. You don’t care about who he is. There’s nothing he can offer you if he’s not someone who makes music. And as far as you’re concerned, you’re under the careful and powerful tutelage of the Suga. 

Yoongi is a better connection than almost everyone in this building and you know it. 

Suddenly you regret turning down his offer to stay at the studio and work. Yoongi has the agency to say no to scheming agents and public relations teams. He’s already paid his way to be able to do whatever he wants. Specifically, he’s paid in manipulation, blood, sweat, tears, and drama.

You are fresh meat swimming alone in shark-filled waters. Still, you look people in the eye as you shake hands and force smiles all night, going through your mental rolodex of names and achievements. You exchange phone numbers with a few actresses, promising to get drinks. You’re sure they wouldn’t want to if you weren’t fresh off an award-season win. Still, it’s something. 

You spot Jimin in the crowd, feeling relief as you step up toward the series of booths that you spotted Jungkook near earlier. 

“Finally someone tolerable,” Jimin yells when he sees you, tossing back the rest of his champagne. He has kohl smudged around his eyes, making his gaze far more intense as he gives you a once-over. “You look ravishing. Are you sure you don’t want to take me up on the offer to come home with me?”

It would be a lie to say you both haven’t flirted with the idea. There’s something genuine in your friendship, though. Something difficult to find, a twin-flame soul that you’d be hard-pressed to ruin for a bit of publicity. Even if Jimin is the most divine creature you’ve ever laid eyes on. 

It’s out of the question, though. Jimin has become your safehaven in a house of cards world.

Looking him up and down, you let out a long whistle. His hair is freshly dyed bubblegum pink, glittering earrings looped through his ears that scatter the light. Tight black pants with a designer belt and a silk shirt tucked into the waist make him look elegant, the textured Chanel blazer cut perfectly to his narrow frame. 

“Honestly, Mila doesn’t care whether we fuck or not. She still sells that rumor to the press. Doesn’t matter if it’s true. ”

Jimin makes a face at your agent's name. He glances over to where she’s talking up someone from X Entertainment. “She’s a fucking snake.” 

“Well, she’s the snake assigned to me. It’s not like I picked her. As soon as they saw me as marketable, there she was hissing at my door and telling me I have to get in glam to wipe my ass.”

“So bite back. I know you have it in you.” You grimace and reach for a glass of champagne from a tray as it passes you. Jimin sighs as he looks you up and down. “I know you have fangs, little monster.”

You sip the champagne and make a face. It is far too sweet, fizzing on your tongue. “A dragon does not kill the sheep because it feels threatened. It kills when it pleases.”

“My girl. Let’s go around the room, shall we? I want to keep those rumors going.”

With a laugh, you take his hand and let him lead you around the room, passing Mila who grins at you as you go. You try not to leer at her, irritated with her obsession with your relationship with Jimin. When she first noticed that you and Jimin hit it off, she surprised you with an entirely new designer lingerie line. Just because, she had said. A girl should feel powerful and sexy. 

After a few attempts, Mila has finally learned you’re not a dumb little lamb. You’ll take her advice when you want it, but you refuse to let it be at the expense of the single person you trust outside of Yoongi, though Yoongi does not entirely count. As your mentor and senior, he would be horrified to hear you call him a friend. 

After nearly an hour of fake smiles, forced laughter, and far too much champagne, you’re tired and buzzed. You’ve talked to at least ten people on Mila’s long list of celebrities, execs, investors, and influencers that she’s pushed onto you. Another member of that list is standing a few feet away from you, laughing loudly at something Jimin says as she puts her manicured hand on his arm. 

As you contemplate whether or not you should bite the bullet and risk saying hello to Luna, someone behind you says, “She hates you. I think she still holds it against you that you got a producer deal without debuting.” 

Whirling around to identify the voice, you stop short. Jungkook Jeon stares down at you, his eyes just as dark and alluring as they were earlier when you made brief eye contact from across the room. This close, he is taller than you expect. His skin-tight white shirt leaves nothing to the imagination, showing the defined muscles of his stomach and chest, and his perfect, tapered waist. 

It’s a face you’re familiar with, pasted across fashion campaigns and media outlets as he talks about his new single. Your heart is pounding as you drink him in. Soft lips, round cheekbones, and gentle eyes that darken considerably when he watches you look him over.

“Yeah,” you say back, swallowing the rest of your champagne. The carbonation catches you by surprise, making you cough as you swallow the sweet liquid the wrong way. 

He laughs and takes the flute away from you, sticking it on a tray as a server passes by. “Bad swallower?” Instead of answering him, you put one hand on your chest as you cough and the other on his arm, steadying yourself as you lean over and cough, clearing your throat. “Damn, Mozart. You okay?”

“Yeah,” you rasp, feeling your face warm in embarrassment. You remove your hand from his arm and ask, “Mozart?”

“Don’t you do all that composing and shit?”

“I do that producing and shit, yeah.”

“It’s about the same. You’re Min’s prodigy, which means you’re Mozart. And he’s Haydn.” 

“I’m sorry, you know the names of classical composers?”

He smirks. “I know your name.”

“Well, I’m afraid I don’t know yours.” 

It’s a lie. You both know it is, and the grin that spreads across his face is downright devilish as he sticks his hand out. “Jungkook,” he says. You shake his hand, admiring his tattoos. And his fingers. But mostly his tattoos. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure is mine.”

“I would love to make that come true.”

You raise a brow. “Is this how most of your conversations go? Telling people that others hate them, name-dropping classical musicians, and making sexual innuendos?”

“Honestly? No, but I am having a great time. I will, however, drop the innuendos if they’re not your style.”

You smile. “I didn’t say that.” 

His answering smile makes your stomach flip.  “Want to get a drink?”

“Depends. Are you going to tell me about all these people who hate me?”

“This is my promise to you that I will only ever be honest with you. So yes.”

You gesture toward the bar. “Lead the way, then.”

Bodies press against you as the two of you snake through the crowd. Jungkook turns a few times to check on you and flashes you a quick smile to reassure him that you’re okay. It’s cute, you think. You don’t know much about him, but you’re impressed thus far. 

And perhaps a little intimidated by his star power and reputation. 

At the bar, the crowd pushes you closer, knocking your arm into his. He steadies you, keeping his hand on your elbow. “What’s your poison?” 

“Vodka soda!” you shout back to him. He nods and leans against the bar, giving your order to the bartender. Jungkook draws attention like moths to a flame, people looking at him and whispering behind manicured hands. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.”

You narrow your eyes as he waits on the drinks, one elbow propped on the bar, his other hand still on your arm. He bites his bottom lip, staring at you. “One might try and say you have something up your sleeve.”

“Nope, just my heart on my sleeve. You’re cute and I’ve heard nice things about you from Jimin. We grew up together.”

“Wait, really?”

That is a surprise to you. Jimin has never mentioned growing up with Jungkook or being remotely friendly of the sort. You frown as you think about it, wondering if Jimin left it out for a reason or felt that it was an unimportant fact. 

“Mhmm.” Jungkook hands you a drink, the glass already sweating from the humidity of the club. “What, Jimin doesn’t brag about me?”

“We don’t gossip about people in the industry.” 

Carefully, the two of you navigate back toward your section. Jungkook finds an empty booth and slides in, patting the seat next to him. You sit down and lean back, kicking your legs out in front of you and crossing them at the ankle. Your dress is short but remains modest, enough to keep people guessing. You take a sip of your drink, the burn making you hiss.

“I so rarely see you at events,” Jungkook says after a sip of his dark drink. “I’ve wanted to introduce myself for a while and then you came in and it was like we had a moment.”

“You mean you wanted it to be a moment.”

“Maybe I did.” He smiles. “So where have you been hiding?”

“Legend of Zelda isn’t going to play itself. I come to the events I feel like are worth it.”

Actually, you come to whatever Mila drags you to. Jungkook doesn’t need to know how most of your time is spent in a music studio with the caffeine shakes trying to perfect songs to make sure you don’t get tossed out on the street.  

He narrows his eyes. “Tears of the Kingdom?”

“Obviously. I’ve been building weapons of mass destruction for days.” 

Jungkook tilts his head back and laughs. “What other games do you like, Mozart?” 

Talking to Jungkook is a pleasant surprise. He isn’t at all what social media makes him out to be. You find he’s incredibly kind, certainly flirty, but also wildly endearing. You feel a little guilty at assuming his veneer would be thin and made of plastic like the rest. 

It certainly doesn’t feel like you’re talking to someone who went number one on Billboard the week prior. Jungkook doesn’t talk about other people he knows or ask about work. He flits through topics like a curious bird, quizzing your interests, scrunching his nose, and pouting when you say something he doesn’t like. 

It’s cute. He’s cute, and you’d be lying if you said that the longer you sat next to him,  you haven’t started to think about what it would be like to taste him. Even if he moves on the next day like his reputation has led you to believe. 

But… there’s something there. A spark, though perhaps a trick of the lights.

-

“You want me to what?” you ask, lowering your voice as you lean into Mila’s ear. 

A raucous chorus of Happy Birthday is being poorly sung on the dance floor. You hadn’t even realized this event was for someone’s birthday, and you have half a mind to ask who the hell you should be wishing a happy day of birth to, but Mila is bitching you out in front of the building’s restrooms. 

Even tucked away in the hall outside of the bathroom, you speak in hushed tones, worried someone will overhear her scheming. She looks down her beaky nose at you, eyes like an eagle. “Fuck him,” she repeats slowly, drawing out the syllables like you’re a toddler. “He’s into you and it would be great for publicity.”

“I’m sorry, but since when do you dictate my sex life?” 

Not only are you a little too buzzed to have this conversation, but the very implication that your agent thinks she can make you fuck Jungkook is hilarious enough to have you start giggling hysterically. Mila watches you with narrowed eyes as you cover your mouth, laughing behind your hands. 

“You are not a naive little girl,” Mila hisses at you. “He wants to fuck you, so let him. He’s attractive, he has influence, and he’s with one of the big four companies. It would be good press.”

“You and the fucking press, you’re obsessed!” 

“No, I’m right. My job is to be right and to tell you what to do, and right now I’m telling you that Jungkook is already known for sticking his dick in anything he can. He’s been staring at you all night. You’d be doing yourself a favor.”

You take a step back from her and hold up your hand. “If I fuck him, it’s because he’s hot and I want to. Not to play political chess for you, understood?”

“In my experience, you either become interesting or watch your career fade. Your time of being interesting is ticking. Your call. I’m getting out of here. Do what you want, like you always do.”

What Mila says hurts but you refuse to let it show, holding out a hand to gesture the way out of the hall. She walks by you brusquely, sweeping her blunt, black hair over her shoulder as she goes. You stand in the dark, the door to the bathrooms opening and closing, flashing bright light and then leaving you in with colors pulsing in front of you as your eyes try to readjust every few seconds. 

A loud group of girls startle you as they stumble out of the bathroom, laughing raucously. They’re a tangle of legs and heels and sweet-smelling perfume, nearly running you over as they sway, a collective mass of bodies. They look exactly like the women you cut out of magazines and pasted in your journal as a kid, dragging your finger over the pretty dresses and the designer names listed in the captions.

Luna stops short when she sees you, straightening and brushing her freshly dyed silver hair out of her face. She is cherubic and beautiful, her round cheeks flushing naturally and doll mouth always rosebud pink. You feel trepidation as she regards you, the girls in her group hanging back a bit as she assesses you.

“How are you?” she questions, settling on polite while flashing you a pointed smile and holding out her arms. 

Fake. Fake. Fake. Fake.

You feel a flicker of anger at yourself as you let her pull you into a hug, resentful that you must play this game. She smells like vodka and vanilla, and when she pulls away, you see the barest hint of white on her nose. You brush your finger back and forth on your nostril. 

“Oh.” She wipes it off with the back of her hand, giving a short, shallow sniff. “Thanks.”

“You look nice,” you offer stiffly. Your tongue is heavy from drinking and you scramble for compliments to say, even if they aren’t true. “I like your new song.”

“Thanks! I have the best producers and writers available out there. They really know exactly what they’re doing.” 

You feel the strain in your smile tighten. Moves and counter moves. “That’s good.”

“My team is great. I’m so thankful I had the opportunity to be with S3vn.”

Luna’s voice is polite. Happy, even. But you hear the double meaning in her words. Remember the way she cut your hair before a major review day when you were sixteen. She’s become better at being mean in a nice way. And you have become better at being unaffected, knowing it is her least favorite response.

“It’s nice to see you, Luna.”

Her smile drops when you don’t get upset. You turn and leave the hallway, palms sweaty and head spinning. Swallowing thickly, you wipe your hands on your exposed thighs and walk back to where Jungkook is sitting, surprised to see Jimin has joined him. He narrows his eyes as you approach, but his expression is overall unreadable.

You sit back down silently on the other side of Jimin, staring off into space. The room feels like it’s spinning. You’re toeing the line of buzzed and drunk, so you sip some water, letting yourself go silent as you absently stare into the crowd, watching the cascading lights, a little lost in them.

Jimin waves his hand back and forth in front of your face. “Are you listening?”

You blink a few times, turning to see him and Jungkook looking at you. “What?”

“Jungkook invited us to an after-party. J-Hope is having some people over.”

“Oh.” 

Chewing on your lip, you let your eyes drift to Jungkook. He gives you a tentative smile, nodding his head in encouragement.

“You should come,” Jungkook encourages with a coy grin. “I’d have fun with you there.”

“Do you want to go?” you ask Jimin quietly, looking back at him. He still has a vague expression, one you can’t figure out. “I’ll only go if you do.” 

“Sure,” he offers. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

-

“So you’re Yoongi’s prodigy? No shit!” Hoseok asks, looking at you from the front seat of the van. City lights blur on the other side of the window and it’s hard to hear him over the screeching singing in the car and the blaring music. “You’re about as hard to meet as Yoongi is!” 

J-Hope - Hoseok, as he has asked you to call him - gives you a bright smile. You just stare at him, shocked that he has any idea who you are. You make a mental note to thank Yoongi for even mentioning your name to him. Hoseok is an absolute powerhouse and someone you’ve followed for years. It’s a good connection.

“Told you that you’d want to meet her,” Jungkook says, voice deep. 

Jungkook’s body presses against yours in the packed-tight vehicle. His hand is on top of your knee. His cologne smells like amber and sandalwood, making your eyelashes flutter as you breathe in. You lay your head back against the headrest of the seat, letting it roll to the side a little to test his reaction when you place your head on his shoulder.

He turns his head toward you, his breath fanning against your forehead. You smell his mint gum. If you look up at him right now, your mouths would be close enough to kiss. “Hi,” he says softly. 

“Hi.”

“You have pretty eyes.”

“I grew them myself.”

Jungkook’s laughter is abrupt. You grin at his mirth. He has a cute laugh, totally at odds with the edgy tattoos and the way he carries himself. The paradox intrigues you.

“That wasn’t very smooth, was it?” 

He shakes his head. “It’s honest. I like it. Your reactions are probably the most genuine thing I’ve seen all night. I like genuine.” 

“There’s not a lot of that to go around.”

“I know. That’s why I’m glad we locked eyes from across the room.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, The Lonely Island.”

Hoseok lives in a luxurious apartment on the east side of the city. The entrance is private in a parking garage, away from wandering eyes. Everyone piles out of the car and when you slide to exit, you find a tattooed hand waiting to help you out.

Grinning, you take Jungkook’s hand. Your fingers tingle where they’re interlocked with his, warmth spreading across your palms. Once you’re out of the car, you start to let go. Jungkook squeezes his fingers tighter, urging you to look up at him. There’s a question in his eyes, gaze flicking down to where your hands are clasped. 

A small grin lights up your face and you squeeze his hand back. He leads you toward the elevator, swinging your hands back and forth. You know this game well: Jungkook is priming you. The hand-holding, the compliments, and the staying near you all night are all his signals to you that he wants you to go home with him.

You want that too, but you also don’t want it to come easy. It’s a risk to make him work harder for it, but you want to see if he will.. 

“Cute,” Jimin mutters, raising a brow as he walks next to you. 

Hoseok’s apartment is a dream. It makes sense for someone with as many writing and choreography credits across the industry as him, in addition to having two top charting albums, a clothing partnership with a popular designer, and countless brand endorsements. 

It’s much nicer than the small but flashy apartment ILIA has put you in. Where your apartment feels like a model home that you can’t leave fingerprints in, Hoseok’s feels authentic. There are hand-selected pieces of art on his walls, a towering bookcase of awards and plaques, blankets and pillows thrown over the couches, books and video game controllers on the coffee table.

Someone gets control of the speaker system and starts pumping hip-hop through the two-story apartment. You navigate to the kitchen where you run into Hwasa pouring drinks. She screams when she sees you, abandoning her bartender duties and making everyone in the kitchen flinch and turn in your direction. You let go of Jungkook’s hand, casting your arms open.

“Helllooooo?!” She grips you tight, kissing your forehead and both cheeks. You laugh, immediately feeling yourself relax having seen a familiar face. The greeting is a little more than you expect, but she’s drunk and happy. You take it in stride. “I cannot believe you’re here and with… well isn’t that new?” 

“Hello, Hwasa.”

“Jeon,” she greets, narrowing her eyes. She tucks you into her arm, pointing a finger at Jungkook. “You better not fuck with this girl, understand me? She is way too cool for your bullshit.”

He rolls his eyes. “What bullshit?”

“I’m so serious. I like her.”

Hwasa lets you go and laughs it off, giving Jungkook a quick kiss on the cheek before going back to her drink-making. Jimin is nowhere in sight, having drifted off to a corner of the living room to chat with Hoseok, leaving you with Jungkook. 

Jungkook scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry about that,” he ventures.

“It happens.”

“Still awkward.” 

“It is,” you snark. You bring your fist up to your mouth, speaking into it like you’re giving an interview. “Jungkook, how does it feel to be put on blast for your spicy endeavors right when you walk into the party?”

You hold your fist out to him, offering him the mic. “Spicy endeavors?” 

“Promiscuous has negative implications and we are sex-positive here.” 

“Wow, such forward-thinking media. I’ve never heard of that before.”

“You never will again, I’m afraid.”

Jungkook shakes his head and chuckles, gesturing to the drinks all over the counter. “You want a drink?” 

“I do.”

With a drink in hand, you both return to the party. There’s dancing going on in a corner of the living room, a card game going on in the dining room, and a smoke session going on around the couches. Jungkook sits on the arm of the couch next to Jimin and another girl you don’t know.

You freeze up a little, unsure where to sit. Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice, reaching a hand out as he joins the conversation around the coffee table. You hesitate for a second, a little caught off guard before placing your hand in his and letting him pull you against him, leaning onto his thigh with your hips pressed together. His arm loops around the back of your thighs, hand resting on the outside of your leg. Your hand drops on his shoulder as you lean into him. 

People you know stop and say hi, their eyes lingering for a long time on the way you and Jungkook lean into one another. You ignore them, content to let them wonder how it is a little producer from ILIA got her claws into Jungkook for the night. 

When a weed pen is passed to Jungkook, you watch with curiosity to see what he’ll do. He takes it but looks up at you, raising his brow in question and holding it out like he’s asking for permission. You’re surprised but you nod - you don’t control what he does.  It’s sweet. Surprising, but sweet.

Jungkook takes two short pulls, blowing the smoke in the opposite direction from you. The girl next to him whines, swatting at it and smacking his leg, giggling. You pay it no mind, unworried about the flirting. He’s not yours, and even if he was, it’s your waist he has pressed against him.

Jungkook holds the pen up to you and you make a face. “I don’t know whose mouth has been on that.”

He snorts. “Alright, Mozart. I have my own. Would you prefer that?”

“Yes, I would.” 

Rolling his eyes but smiling, he passes it over to someone else and stands, your hand falling from his shoulder. “Come on, brat. We’ll go to the balcony so we don’t have to share.”

“Thank you, that’s what I deserve.” 

He giggles. “You can’t even say that with a straight face.”

“Imagine if I meant it.”

Jungkook navigates the apartment easily. You follow him, not unaware of the gazes and whispers that pass. You lift your chin. Let them talk. The only opinions that matter to you are those of your bosses, Yoongi, Jimin, and occasionally your mother on a good day. 

Right now, nothing else matters. 

It’s cold outside. You shiver while Jungkook shuts the sliding glass door to the balcony just off the bedroom. Light floods in from the hallway into the room, casting a golden glow behind you. Jungkook leans on the railing, pulling a weed pen from his pocket and waving it in front of you like a prize. 

You snatch it from him, sticking your tongue out. Bringing it to your lips, you suck gently on the tip, filling your mouth with acrid smoke as you inhale. It burns a little, making your eyes water as you let the air and remaining smoke out before passing it back to Jungkook. He echos your movements. 

Leaning against the railing, you look out at the city. It is dazzling from this high up, a home made for a god to watch over their creation. Silence hangs between you, occasionally passing the pen back and forth. The wind feels good, though a little cold. And you appreciate how quiet it is, the sounds of the party muted through the windows. 

Down below, the street looks mostly empty. It’s so far down that you’re not really sure. Your high starts to hit, dulling the edges of everything and making you feel a little soft and floating. You grip the railing a little tighter, looking at Jungkook from the corner of your eye. 

Fuck if he isn’t beautiful. 

“What?” he asks, a smile in his voice as he side-eyes you. “You’ve got a look on your face.”

“Nothing.”

“Mm. Not nothing. What?”

“You’re not what I expected. It’s a really nice change of pace.”

“Ah,” he answers, ducking his head. You grin, realizing that he’s blushing and trying to hide it. You poke his arm, laughing as you prod at him. “Stop, you’re making me shy.”

“You? Shy?” 

“Oh yeah. I am a mess around people. I might seem good at it, but it takes champagne and sometimes a Xanax to get me to operate at a level that’s normal with everyone else.”

“And then do you stay up all night re-thinking every single interaction you had and punishing yourself like why the fuck did I say this very weird thing?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, frowning and tilting his head up toward the sky. “It is exhausting. Sometimes I’m so worried I’m going to embarrass myself that I skip an event altogether and take the fucking verbal beating from the company.” 

“Ugh, Mila would fit right in.”

“She’s kind of a snake, huh?”

You hum. “Jimin called her exactly that earlier tonight.” 

“My agent hates her. Says she’s a total control freak and vicious.” You snort. That is an understatement. “Makes her successful, though. She has some of the world's biggest names under her.” 

“Yeah, but I didn’t choose her. She was assigned to me. Honestly, I don’t think she thought I had any potential to bring her success and be a household name until I won that award for producing Hwasa’s song.” 

“It was a good song.”

You smile distantly, looking out at the hazy lights of the city. Everything feels a little slow and dreamy, your thoughts fluid. “I liked it. I want to do better - be better. A lot of it’s about connections though and I… am not great at that part.”

“I think you’re doing pretty okay.”

Jungkook shifts closer. He’s turned to you, so near that you’re almost touching. He looks down at you through long lashes, watching for your reaction. You look up at him, a little starry eyed and dizzy at his proximity. This close, you can see the freckle just under his mouth. You want to kiss him, but you hold back, feeling your insecurity worm its way in.

“Yeah?” you ask, a little breathy. “Are you saying there’s a connection here?”

“Uh-huh.” He tucks his bottom lip between his teeth. He reaches a hand forward and brushes the underside of your chin, tilting your face up toward him even more. “Come home with me.”

The breath leaves your lungs. You’re not surprised that he’s asked, and yet your body still reacts, adrenaline taking over. His gaze is hungry as he watches you, waiting for your response, finger still propped under your chin like he might kiss you.

“Take me on a date,” you assert. Perhaps it's the drinks and the weed that makes you so bold, but you want more than anyone else has had from him. You want to be different. “Dinner.”

He tries to fight a smile, tonguing the inside of his cheek. The action is wildly attractive for some reason, nearly making you waver and let him take you home now. “Do you like Italian?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he says. “Tomorrow.”

“The day after. I’m busy tomorrow with work.”

He narrows his eyes. “Damn. Gonna make me wait in agony, huh?”

You grin. “I’m worth waiting for.”

“You very much are. Day after tomorrow at eight. Wear something nice.” 

“Fine. Wear those necklaces you wore for your Vogue shoot.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Oh?” Jungkook purrs. “You like the necklaces?”

“I like to imagine what they look like dangling above my face.”

He shakes his head. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me.”

“Good. The day after tomorrow.” You take a step back, a wicked grin on your face. He drops his hand, staring you down. “Don’t be late.” 

-

Jungkook isn’t late and you wish that he was. Cursing over and over again, you pull the knee-high boot up your leg, thankful for the supple, flexible leather that fits your calf. You nearly fall over tugging on the next, finally getting your boots on and standing up straight in front of your mirror out of breath and flustered. 

The outfits had not gone according to plan. Something about going on a date with Jungkook has you feeling all out of sorts, going through enough outfits that your bed is now covered in them. You refused to tell Mila that you were going on the date, knowing that if she caught wind of it, she’d send paparazzi. As it is, Jungkook has assured you he’s gone through the hoops for a private dinner at an upscale Italian restaurant near the river. 

Turning in the mirror, you decide that the short, black dress over sheer black pantyhose paired with platform boots and a long, black peacoat will have to do. Grabbing your phone, you text Jungkook back quickly that you’re coming downstairs, apologizing for the delay.

Jungkook: Like you said, you’re worth waiting for. 

Me: Oh, I can take longer… 

Jungkook: Don’t make me come up there. 

Jungkook: Actually, on second thought, make me come up there.

As you pass your kitchen, you double back and run to the alcohol cabinet, pulling a bottle of tequila down quickly to shoot back a quick swig. It burns your throat, making you cough and squeeze your eyes shut as you hack for a moment, corking the bottle and gasping for air. 

At least it will take the edge off. 

Wiping the traces from your chin, you rush out of your apartment, letting the tequila burn its way through you to set the first layer of calm. In the elevator, you take in a slow, deep breath for five seconds. Exhale for five seconds. Inhale for five seconds.

The elevator dings, making you flinch. Clutching your purse to steady your trembling hands, you step out onto the ground floor of the parking garage where you find Jungkook parked illegally and leaning on the side of the vehicle. 

Slowing your steps, you appreciate the boy and then the car. Jungkook is dressed in black slacks with a belt at the waist and a black, tight-fitted turtleneck. The material of the shirt forms to his body, showing his defined arms and toned chest. 

Jungkook’s hair is slicked back, a single dangling earring on his left lobe paired with the rest of his signature hoops. You have no idea how a single piece of jewelry changes everything about his energy, but your heart rate skyrockets as you approach him, a little shy. 

He lets out a low, slow whistle. “Fuck. You are a knockout.” 

“You look pretty good yourself.”

“Nah, Mozart. You look…” He shakes his head and scratches the back of his neck, laughing a little. “You’re gonna fucking wreck me.”

A nervous laugh escapes you and you chew the inside of your cheek as you stop in front of him, hands crossed in front of you. He pushes off the car, which is a sleek Porsche, and sticks his hand out to you. Tentatively, you place your hand in his. 

Leaning forward, Jungkook places a kiss on your cheek. Your lashes flutter, skin warm. He pulls away with a small smile. “You look beautiful. I mean it.” 

“You’re making me nervous.”

“No kidding, I feel like my heart is about to come out of my chest.”

He’s going to be the death of you. It’s endearing, how honest he is, letting what he’s thinking pour out of his mouth. You’re unsure if it’s part of his game or if it’s genuine, and it puts you a little on edge, trying to guess what’s going through his mind. 

Lacing his fingers with yours, Jungkook escorts you around the car and opens the passenger. The interior of the car smells clean and is lined with white LED lights and red leather seats. You raise your brows as you slide inside, your coat protecting you from the cold leather. 

Jungkook closes your door and rounds the back, slipping into the driver’s side. He turns to you, tilting his head to the side. You fiddle with the buttons on your coat. “What?”

“Kiss me,” he says, sounding breathless. “Kiss me so we don’t have to be nervous anymore.”

“You just want me to kiss you.” 

Jungkook puts his elbow on the center console and leans forward. He looks down his nose at you, eyes focused on your mouth. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to fight a shiver of adrenaline threatening to take over. “So what?”

“Ask me nicely,” you murmur, leaning toward him. You look him in the eye, trying to still your hummingbird heart. This close, you see the flecks of gold in his irises, swirls of brown and caramel. They’re beautiful, framed by silky lashes. “I’ll take it into consideration.”

“Please kiss me.” 

“Hmm?”

“I am begging you to kiss me.”

“Almost…”

“I need you to kiss me.”

So you do. 

Jungkook’s mouth is soft. He laughs in surprise but leans into the kiss, slotting his mouth against yours firmly. It’s innocent and sweet, just a gentle brush of lips. You pull away, noses bumping against one another as he rests his forehead on yours. 

It’s quiet and cold in the interior of the car, only the sound of your shallow breathing and the hum of the engine audible. Something electric courses through your veins, ignited by the feeling of his mouth against yours and you immediately want more. You’ve never felt this sudden, carnal desire before. This need to fall into him. 

For a second, you fight it. Then, you give in. 

Leaning forward, you catch Jungkook’s lips in a real kiss. It’s slow at first. You catch him off guard but he’s quick to keep up, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth greedily. Dizziness makes your world spin. You press up against the center console, sliding your tongue gently against his. Jungkook reaches a hand up to your face, cradling you as he deepens the kiss. 

His mouth tastes like spearmint gum. Your skin is overheating, and you suddenly feel  stuffy and constricted in your jacket. Jungkook breaks the kiss, panting against your lips as he presses chaste kisses to the side of your mouth and lips. 

“Did you drink tequila?” he asks, voice husky. He starts kissing your jaw and your head lolls to the side, eyelids fluttering. “Tastes like it.”

“I was nervous,” you pant, almost moaning as his tongue flicks out to lick at your skin. “So I took a shot.”

“I make you that nervous?” His teeth pull at your earlobe. You sink further into the seat, starting to turn boneless. You feel like you’re melting at the joints, abruptly unable to string together a sentence under the attention of his greedy, warm mouth. “Cat got your tongue?”

“You’re supposed to take me to dinner.”

“Oh, I am. And then we'll order ice cream, and then we’re going home.” 

“Oh?” 

“My home. I have necklaces to show you.”

“Fuck.” 

Reluctantly, Jungkook pulls away. His lips are wet and a little dark from kissing you, his eyes wild. You watch him from where you’re sunken in the seat, a little wrecked from just kissing. You realize that Jungkook has the potential to ruin you. To crack you open and devour you.

And you let him. 

Reaching across the car, you cradle his face, thumb pulling at his bottom lip, damp with your lip gloss and spit. “Pretty,” you murmur. His tongue darts out, laving across your thumb. You grin. “Dangerous.” 

“Not with you.” 

“I’ve heard that before.”

“Well, I mean it.”

“We barely know each other.”

He shrugs. “I don’t care. I have a sense for these things.”

“Mmm.” You drop your hand from his face. “Dinner, then. And ice cream. And then home.” 

-

Jungkook’s first lie is that he’s not dangerous with you. He nearly kills you several times on the way to dinner, leaning over at almost every stoplight to bring your mouth to his again. His mouth is addictive, each kiss intense and intended to make you fall further and further into this waking dream you’re in. 

By the time the valet opens your door to a private entrance at the restaurant and helps you out, you think you might be entirely drunk on Jungkook’s kisses alone. He laces his fingers with yours, pulling you close as you walk up toward the back of the restaurant.

Inside is a dark hall, barely lit by fixtures in the ceiling casting gold light. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust as Jungkook gives the host his name. To your right is a curtain with the soft hush of diners and piano music. To your left is another curtain with no sound coming through. 

“Thank you for choosing us, Mr. Jeon. Right this way.”

The host bows his head slightly, guiding you to the left curtain. He pulls it open and gestures for you to enter. You step through after Jungkook, raising your brows when you realize it’s a private dining room. It looks reserved for events and parties perhaps, but the room is furnished with a single table and rich, mahogany chairs. 

Velvet drapery covers the walls and a large, crystal chandelier hangs over the table. The heels of your boots click on the hardwood floors as Jungkook leads you to your seat, letting go of your hand to pull out the chair. You flash him a smile, sitting as he helps you scoot in. 

He sits across from you, adjusting his shirt sleeves. Your eyes momentarily get sidetracked when you realize he has on the layered necklaces you ask for, and you grin before averting your attention to the host who instructs that the chef and the sommelier will be with you momentarily to talk about your dining options for the evening.

When he leaves, it’s just you and Jungkook with the soft sound of piano trailing from somewhere distant. You level your gaze on him, watching him watch you. The setting feels intimate, leaving you a little overwhelmed but in a good way. You’ve gone on dates, but not like this. 

“What?” he questions gently. “You have a look on your face.”

“I’m just impressed, is all.”

“It only gets better from here. I have so many ideas for dates.” 

“Oh? Plural?”

“Mhmm.” He leans back in his seat, tonguing his cheek. “If all goes well, anyway.” 

“So far so good.” 

The sommelier and the chef arrive together, hands tucked behind their backs. It’s hard to pay them much mind. Jungkook is distracting, even as he gives them his full attention, nodding along and answering their questions. He looks to you for input, but you feel a little useless, barely listening to what they’re saying. 

“Trust me enough to order?” he asks, leaning over the table conspiratorially. 

“Well, you’re with me, so you must have good taste. I trust you.” 

His foot nudges your ankle under the table playfully. He orders a round of appetizers and wine. When the sommelier asks you to sample it, you follow Jungkook's lead, inhaling the dark red lightly. It smells strongly of cherries and something sweet, making your mouth water. The taste is lush and wonderful, pleasing to the palate. 

The sommelier bows and leaves the two of you alone, vanishing behind the curtain. Jungkook lifts his wine glass to you, smiling. “Here’s to our first date and many more.” 

“Cheers.” 

After a sip, you set your glass down and look at Jungkook from across the table. “Was it absolutely painful, waiting for today?”

“I hardly survived, to be honest. All day yesterday I lay in bed dreaming of today.”

“Hmm. Is that all you dream about?”

His gaze darkens. “Careful, Mozart. I dream very vividly.”

Jungkook does impress you. With his knowledge about a wide variety of topics, with the charming expressions he uses as he speaks, with… him overall. He’s multifaceted in a way you rarely get to see with others, and you feel giddy as you listen to him.

Though you have a similar experience getting into music, it’s nice to hear Jungkook’s story. You keep it light, avoiding the darker parts of going through trainee programs and how competitive and hard it was to be a kid, growing up while working. 

He asks you about music. Not just the music you work on, but the music you grew up listening to, your favorite genres, and the technical aspects of making music. Jungkook is intelligent and familiar with the mechanics of making records. He asks questions and nods along, interested and curious in learning. 

You can’t remember the last time you had a conversation go this well, even outside of dates. When you urged Jungkook to take you on a date, you weren’t sure you’d end up liking him. Now though, as he lets you take the last stuffed mushroom because you can have whatever you want, you realize that you like him. 

It is such a dangerous game to play, especially with the rumors you hear about him. 

Instead of thinking about it, you enjoy dinner. You both finish the bottle of wine and he orders another. You’re feeling loose and warm, laughing more often and giving him lazy smiles. Even without the wine, you want to drag him to the bathroom and get on your knees. Now with a few glasses in, you’re thinking about it more and more. 

Dinner sobers you up a little, but it doesn’t remove the heat between your legs and the growing desire to kiss him again. You think about the way his mouth moved against yours, tongue gentle and talented. Your mind wanders into places less innocent, especially after dinner comes to an end and ice cream is brought out, as promised.

Jungkook carves the spoon through the dessert, leaning forward with it held out. You smirk, leaning to meet him halfway to let him slide the ice cream into your mouth. Cold vanilla melts on your tongue. It’s good and creamy, but you hardly pay attention to the taste, eyes fastened to Jungkook’s. 

“Good?” His voice is deep, soft. “I want to taste.”

You pick up your spoon, picking up a small scoop. You hold it out to him and he repeats your motion, bending to meet you. His eyes don’t leave yours as he eats it, tongue running over the bottom of his lip after to catch any extra. 

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, getting up abruptly. He holds his hand out to you and you place yours in his. He hoists you up and surprises you by pulling you into his chest. “We’re going.” 

You lean up on your toes, stealing his lips with yours. They taste like the wine you’ve been drinking. Your mouth tingles as you kiss him and your thoughts are cottony and slow, only focused on the way he hums, leaning forward to swipe his tongue eagerly into your mouth.

The kiss turns a little messy. You’re woozy, letting him bend you backward as he steals the breath from your lungs. Jungkook is intoxicating, your hand dropping his to wrap around his neck. You thread your fingers through the waves at the nape of his neck. They’re silky soft, sliding between your fingers. You tug a little, pulling a groan low in his throat.

“Careful or I will fuck you here,” he pants, spit-slicked mouth moving against yours. You run your tongue along his bottom lip, tasting more wine. “Devil.” 

“What’s stopping you?” 

Jungkook pulls away from you, holding you at arm's length. You stare up at him, eyes heavy. You feel arousal pool in your stomach with the way he looks at you, his mouth wine-stained. 

“That’s how you want it?” His tone is threatening. Laced with something carnal. Your stomach flutters as you nod. You’re not thinking about anything but him, not worried about anything. “Fuck.”

Without hesitation, he grabs you by the hand and pulls you across the floor. You follow him eagerly, heart hammering as Jungkook all but kicks the private bathroom door open. He yanks you inside and spins you, pushing you toward an elegant sink.

The bathroom is dark. The walls are painted black and the gold-fixtured lighting is dim. It would be romantic if Jungkook wasn’t flicking the lock behind him and advancing on you. Just as he reaches for you, you surprise him, dropping to your knees and looking up through your lashes. 

He raises his brows, looking down at you, heat behind his eyes. You lift your hand to the zipper of his pants, slowly pulling it down, pausing for permission.

“Go ahead, baby,” he murmurs, nodding. “Take what you want.”

Licking your lips, you do exactly that. Your fingers are nimble as you undo the button at the top of his pants. You pull them down a little, just enough to get them out of your way. You eye the hardening outline of his cock against his briefs, breath catching. 

You look up at him. “You have a huge cock, don’t you?”

He sticks out his tongue between his teeth. “Why don’t you find out, hmm?”

Leaning high up on your knees, you lick the outline of his cock, watching as he shivers. You run your tongue to the tip of his cock, stopping to mouth at it. He curses, hips twitching as you soak the fabric with your mouth, placing your hands on his thighs.

Muscles twitch under your palms. You dig your nails in and scratch upward, the fabric hissing underneath your fingers. Reaching the waistband of his briefs, you pull down agonizingly slow. Jungkook’s fingers twitch at his sides, but he lets you do what you want, breathing heavily through parted lips. 

Jungkook’s cock springs out. You feel your mouth water at his thick length, already hard from the barest stimulation. Pearly beads of precum decorate the dark tip. You hum, contented as you stick your tongue out and give a quick kitten lick to the base of his shaft. 

He hisses, hips twitching forward. Teasing him, you trace your tongue along a vein on the underside of his cock until you reach the tip, circling the swollen head with your tongue generously. Jungkook closes his eyes, his head falling backward.

You grip him firmly, gathering saliva in your mouth before spitting on his cock. He moans out loud and you grin, pumping him slowly while ducking under your hand to lave your tongue across his balls. He curses and a hand shoots to your head, not pushing you, but fingers pressed tight against your skull.

“Fuck, you like being a little slut?” he growls. 

“Mhmm,” you answer back, pulling his cockhead into your mouth. His salty precum melts on your tongue. 

Jungkook fills your mouth. You feel the stretch on the sides of your lips as you take him in properly. You let spit pool on your tongue as you slide down his cock, slurping gently as you do. It’s messy and wet and a little clumsy, the wine making you uncoordinated. 

It doesn’t matter. His fingers press into your hair as you set a rhythm, bobbing your head and sucking gently while your hand pumps what you can’t fit in your mouth. Jungkook pants above you, his soft moans echoing off the tile. 

The sounds he makes spur you further. Drool runs down your chin as he succumbs. You watch him through misty eyes, the crown of his cock kissing the back of your throat as you try to take him further than you can manage. You feel your throat constrict, coughing a bit as you pull off of him, twisting your wrist as you work him and gasp for air.

Spit and precum connect your lips to his cock in a thick string. It breaks when you cough, eyes stinging. 

“Yeah?” he asks, gritting his teeth. “Like choking on that fucking cock?”

You run the flat of your tongue over his frenulum, making him wine. “Like hearing you moan,” you admit. The slick sound of your hand stroking him makes you squeeze your legs together. “It makes me so fucking wet.” 

“Show me.”

Jungkook’s hands go to yours. He pulls you up by the wrists. Your knees feel wobbly but he holds you steady, pressing you against the counter. He steals a searing kiss from you that is more tongue than lips, hands skimming up your arms and down your sides until he’s at the hem of your dress where he pauses. 

“This okay?” Your eyelids flutter open. His nose is pressed against yours, eyes steady. “We can stop whenever or if you’re too drunk.”

“I’m not.” It’s true, you’re a little drunk off the wine, but your head is clear. You know exactly what you want and your thoughts are concise. There are no hesitations and you don’t care that you’re in a bathroom, face wet with mixed fluids. “Want it.”

“Mmm.” 

Jungkook slips a hand under your dress, fingers brushing over your soft thighs. It feels good, his dragging touch enticing. Your head tilts back, allowing him to press hot, wet kisses on your throat. His fingers pick at the garter belt secured to your pantyhose, making him groan.

“I wanna see these later.”

“You will.”

He licks your neck. “Good.”

You close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his mouth sucking gently at your throat while his hand slides to your underwear. He presses the pads of his fingers over the silk, just enough to make your thighs close around his hand, gasping. 

“You are wet.” There’s a smile in his voice. He moves his fingers in a gentle circle, applying pressure to the damp spot on your underwear. “Sucking me off did that?” 

“And the ice cream.”

“Oh? Watching me eat ice cream, huh?”

“Sorry about it.”

“Don’t be.” He hooks a finger and pulls your panties to the side, touching your sticky folds properly. A moan slips out of your mouth. You can feel your heart slamming in your chest so hard you think you might have a cardiac episode. “You can watch me eat your pussy later.” 

Between the implication that there is a later and thereby more after this, and the way Jungkook’s fingers slip up and down your heat, you’re a goner. It feels so good, some of the pressure between your legs relieved as he teases your clit.

Spreading your legs wider, you lean hard into the bathroom counter. It hurts where it presses against your spine but you ignore it, content to let him push you until your head hits the mirror. 

Jungkook’s fingers tease your hole, leaving your cunt clenching. You whine, bringing your hands to his face to pull him off your neck and to your mouth, biting his lip playfully. 

“Fuck me,” you ask between kisses, mouths smacking loudly. “Wanna feel you stretch me out.”

“Can’t even wait until we’re home?”

“You can fuck me there too.”

He laughs darkly. “Demon.”

Jungkook removes his hand from between your legs and bends at the knee, grabbing you behind the thighs. You jump lightly and he lifts you, putting you on the counter. Your dress hikes up, baring your glistening cunt to him, underwear still pulled to the side. 

Balmy air kisses your skin. It’s hot in the bathroom as he cages you in, tattooed hand pumping his cock. You’re bent out of shape, spreading your legs and feeling the strain of the straps on your garner belt as you stretch them. 

Reaching between your legs, you pull your underwear farther to the side, ensuring they won’t be in the way. He shakes his head, eying your heat hungrily as he runs the tip of his dick up and down your messy folds. It feels good but it’s not enough, making you squirm and whine audibly. 

He tuts at you, sliding his hand up to press the head of his cock into your dripping hole. Your eyes roll back, feeling the pressure of him splitting you open as he sinks in. The stretch of him aches in pleasure-pain, your pussy opening up for every inch that he feeds you.

“Shit you’re tight,” he gasps, falling forward to rest his head on your shoulder. His back muscles strain against his shirt as he pushes in the rest of the way, bottoming out until you’re stuffed full, walls fluttering around him. “God, I could come just like this.”

“Pussy whipped?” 

“Fuck, I’m gonna be.”

One of your hands goes around his neck, nails pressing into his skin. He sucks in air sharply. Your other hand drifts to his ass, grabbing him and squeezing. “Please make me come. I need it.” 

Instead of answering verbally, he starts to fuck into you. It’s not a slow build or something passionate. It’s needy and heady and desperate. He sets a brutal pace and you can’t help but let out a loud moan, the shape of his name escaping you.

The feeling is addicting. You cling to him, jostling against the sink as he fucks you. The wet sound of your cunt around him is loud and lewd, backtracked by your breathy moans getting louder and higher-pitched. You feel yourself shaking, fingers digging into him as he grabs your hips, holding you down to the counter.

Jungkook’s breath fans your neck, his face buried there. He curses, occasionally biting your tender skin, making you squeal. You can feel the ghost of a smile against you, his tongue soothing your stinging flesh. 

Grabbing one of your thighs, he hikes your leg higher. You slide into the sink, nearly bent in half as he changes the angle. He hits your spot on the upstroke, almost sending you into an orgasm immediately. The tension in your stomach is so tight you think you’re going to unravel. 

Instead, it climbs higher and higher. You can barely breathe as he straightens to fuck you even harder. The faucet digs into your back. You don’t care, grabbing the counter as you cling to it for life, babbling. Nothing that comes out of your mouth makes any sense and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, you come. Hard. 

Everything in your body locks up. You spasm around him, squeezing his cock for everything it's worth. Your orgasm is swift and powerful, taking the breath from you for a long moment before you finally manage to gasp for air, sagging against the sink. 

With a few messy pumps, Jungkook comes with a loud curse, head tossed back, hips slamming yours. You can feel your release between the two of you, sticky and running down your thighs. His thrusts slow until he’s left softening inside of you.

Come leaks when he slowly pulls out. The drip is obscene but you’re too fucked out to care, looking up at him in a daze. It smells like sex in the bathroom and a light layer of sweat covers your skin. 

Carefully, Jungkook tucks himself back in his pants before ripping paper towels out of the dispenser to gently wipe at your thighs. You laugh and let him take care of you, grateful that he does. He swipes one greedy finger up your pussy and pops it into his mouth, making your jaw drop.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to eat you out later.”

You chew your lip as he finishes wiping the mess from your lower half. “So there is a later, still?”

He looks dubious. “I told you that you were coming home with me.”

“I know I just thought maybe…”

“That I was gonna fuck you in a bathroom and that would be what I wanted?” You nod. “I told you, I want more dates. Something about you, Mozart. Also, you letting me fold you in half in a bathroom makes me want to drop down on one knee.”

It pleases you to hear that more than you care to admit. 

With Jungkook’s help, you ease off the counter. At a glance in the mirror, you burst into hysterical laughter. Your mascara is smudged, your mouth is wet, and you look wrecked. He laughs too, caging you in and reaching around you to turn on the faucet, running the tips of his fingers underneath and bringing them up to gently wipe under your eyes.

You smile at him as he attempts to make the running makeup less noticeable. When he finishes, he turns off the faucet but remains pressed to your back, arms looped casually around you. He has a small smile, staring at you in the mirror.

“What?” you ask, laughing.

“This is going to sound stupid,” he prefaces. “But I just feel something here. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Post-nut clarity?”

He presses his pelvis into you. “No. It’s just like this really silly… I don’t know. Crush. But it just feels right.”

Surprisingly, you understand what he means. This spark you feel with him is new to you. There’s never been anyone else you feel so natural with, so immediately attracted to. Certainly not enough to throw inhibition to the wind and suck them off in a bathroom. 

Something about Jungkook lights you up, a candle catching fire and burning through the wick hot and fast. People might call it reckless and immature, but you don’t know how else to explain this innate desire to jump in head-first with him. 

“I feel it too.” 

He kisses the back of your head. “Come on. I’m not done with you yet.” 

-

You feel lost in the lights on the way home. Jungkook’s hand settles on your thigh, thumb brushing back and forth. He’s a little subdued, focusing on the road. You don’t distract him, content to adjust the air conditioning so that it cools you off, your skin on fire from the wine and Jungkook. 

The night certainly went in a direction you weren’t planning, but you don’t mind. Jungkook excites you. Perhaps it is a little rash and naive, but you don’t care, enamored by the layers of him. You want to peel back more, to dig to the core until he’s yours. 

Whatever the madness is, it appears to be equal. When Jungkook pulls into the luxury apartment building known for high-profile celebrities and government officials, he’s on you again, pulling you across the car to meld your mouths together. 

Dull pain blooms in your mouth, lips bruised from kissing him. You don’t care, eager to slot your tongue against his, brushing against the wet-rough feel of it. 

“Come on,” he whispers, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth. “Let’s go upstairs.”

It should not surprise you when Jungkook swipes a key fob and selects the penthouse apartment, but it does. It shocks you even more when the elevator opens into a four-level home. Your mouth drops open a little as you enter, Jungkook’s fingers laced with yours. 

Floor-to-ceiling windows stretch the entire four-story home. From where you stand in the entryway, you can see multiple open-concept rooms, each ornately decorated with a modern style and neutral tones. Nothing about what you can see screams Jungkook, suggesting that his label has put him here - has the money to put him here.

The thought itself is staggering, momentarily reminding you who you just let fuck you senseless in the bathroom at an upscale restaurant. Letting Jungkook’s hand go, you wander into the main room of the apartment, stepping down into the sunken living room with large, curved couches surrounding a coffee table.

Above you, a massive glass artwork of floating lights hovers. They’re turned off, but it looks like a sculpture project most likely commissioned by a wildly expensive artist. Jungkook joins you in front of the towering windows overlooking a wide terrace. The sheer curtains do nothing to hide the twinkling lights of the city. 

It gives the illusion that you’re among the stars. Jungkook leans over and presses a button on the remote. The curtains quietly begin to roll open, revealing the view in full. It is breathtaking, much more magnificent than the view from Hoseok’s apartment. 

“They really pulled out all the stops for you,” you murmur, turning to look at him. He toes the carpet, twisting his mouth as he blushes. “This is insane.”

“It’s too much.”

“A little bit. But it’s cool.”

He smiles and reaches a hand out. “Let me show you the rest tomorrow after breakfast.”

You take his hand and let him pull you along toward the winding staircase. “I want waffles.” 

“And in the morning, I’m making waffles!”

You both dissolve into laughter at the Shrek reference. Jungkook pulls you up the steps until you’re on the top floor, which is made up of a spacious bedroom with windows that overlook the city, an ornate bathroom you can only see the door to, what you assume is a walk-in closet, and an additional terrace with an infinity pool, firepit area, and bar. 

The bedroom is more of Jungkook’s style. It’s not nearly as pristine, the sheets and blankets rumpled, all dark grey tones. There are shoes by the closet door and a shelf in the far corner with action figures and collectibles that you don’t recognize. 

In the middle of the room stretches an impossibly large bed with modern sconces on either side. Medication, a glass of water, and a watch are on the nightstand next to the bed. And no signs of other suitors, you notice, but you push the thought out of your mind as Jungkook pulls you backward toward his bed, smiling.

This time you’re slower. He sits on the bed, pulling you by the waist to straddle him. Your knees sink feather-soft into the mattress on either side of him, settling yourself on his thighs as you draw him in for a kiss. You hold him gently by the jaw, fingers spread and pressing warm into his skin. 

Jungkook’s hands skate around your hips to your ass, squeezing gently as your tongues dance together. Your buzz from the wine is gone now, replaced with desire burning through you, hot as a torch. It doesn’t feel needy and crazed now, but a little softer. More intimate. 

Carefully, Jungkook leans backward, taking you with him. You squeal into his mouth as you land on top of him, arms giving out. You crash into his chest, though not too hard. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. He places his hands on your waist and precariously rolls over, managing not to knock heads and limbs as he places you under him. His knee slots between your legs, hands leaving your waist to bracket your head. “God damn, you are beautiful.”

It’s strange. You feel beautiful - or at least, you feel desired under him. Perhaps it is not the same thing, but the way Jungkook looks at you with swollen lips and starry eyes, you feel powerful. Godly, even. 

He dips back down, pressing a kiss to your mouth and one to your jaw. He leaves a wake of heat, stealing your breath away. Leaning back, you give him access to map the tender flesh of your throat and collarbones, threading your fingers through his hair. 

Eyes closed, you let the world spin. His mouth is the finest delicacy, pressing kisses that are butterfly-soft all over your heated skin as he pulls the straps of your dress. You help him by slipping your arms out. He gathers the fabric and pulls down, sitting up as he does so.

Silk rolls against your skin. It’s cool in his bedroom, making you shiver as he reveals your lacy bra and matching garter. He tosses the dress, sitting high up on his knees as you lay splayed out for him. 

“You know,” he ventures. “Normally I don’t like lingerie.” His fingers trace the swells of your breasts. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, goosebumps breaking out on your skin from the tantalizing touch. “But I could get used to it on you.”

“I only wear it on special occasions.” 

Jungkook lowers himself, planting a wet kiss on the top of your right breast. “What’s the occasion?” 

“I needed something to hold up my pantyhose.”

His laugh cools the fresh trail of spit he leaves on your skin, earning a violent shiver from you. He notices, eyes flicking up to look at you. They’re endless pools of dark, watching your every move as he slow-drags a finger up your stomach to the top of your bra. He hooks his finger over the top of the cup and pulls gently, the fabric scraping your over-sensitive nipple. 

Everything he does feels overwhelmingly erotic. You watch, hypnotized and out of breath as he sticks out his tongue, circling your nipple lazily but not giving it attention directly. You let out a wavering moan, voice gone. 

Oh so slowly, Jungkook flicks his tongue over the hardened peak of your nipple. You bow up into him, wanting more. He tsks at you and you go flat on the bed, fisting the sheets tightly to ground yourself as he grins, delighted. 

“You listen well, huh?” You nod, head heavy. You can’t think of any words, thoughts bleeding together like liquid spilled across a watercolor canvas. “Is that how you like it? Being told what to do like a good girl?”

“Yes.” You suck in a sharp breath as Jungkook scrapes his teeth generously over your nipple. 

“You weren’t a very good girl when you got on your knees and swallowed my cock whole in the bathroom.” He flicks his tongue back and forth, sending your eyes to the back of your head as you squirm underneath him. “You were quite the dirty girl, huh?”

“Both.”

Instead of answering you, Jungkook envelops your bud fully, sucking gently. Pleasure rolls through you, your pussy beginning to slow ache with arousal. Your head falls to the side, and you’re only able to pant and dig your nails into his sides where you grab him, either to hold him to you or push him away; you’re not sure.

Jungkook’s mouth is wicked, lavishing your tits. He sucks greedily, noisy as he slides his tongue from one breast to the other. When you look at him, you see sin. Your chest shines in the glowing light of the city with the evidence of his oral fixation, turning you on even more. 

Your underwear sticks to you uncomfortably and your toes curl. It feels so good but you need so much more, dripping in a way that is maddening as he starts to trail his mouth downward. He is so so slow, tasting your skin, hands skimming your sides, scraping blunt nails across your sensitive flesh. 

He’s hardly done anything and yet you’re shaking underneath him, more sensitive and turned on than you’ve ever been. You cannot recall ever being this close to falling apart from just having someone touch you and play with your tits.

But it’s the way Jungkook looks at you. The movements of his hands on your skin. The way every single brush of his tongue and every drag of his teeth scraping over you seems perfectly timed. Attuned. 

It feels like Jungkook already knows every part of your body, and something about that both terrifies and excites you, kicking your adrenaline into high gear, heart rattling, pulse beating in your neck. 

With hooded eyes, you watch Jungkook unclasp the garter belt. He is gentle and methodical, pulling every layer of clothing off with a touch so reverent that it can only be holy. He is solely focused on his task, tasting your skin when his mouth draws near enough to feel you. 

When he has you naked and shaking, he sinks to the floor in front of the bed, hands pressing your thighs open. You feel how much of a mess you are, slick and cold as the air hits you. You whimper, pussy aching to the point of madness. 

Jungkook chuckles. “Yeah? Does it ache, baby?”

“Uh-huh.”

He blows cool air right onto your pussy. The sensation is a pleasure-sting, making you twist in his hands, trying to angle away from him to escape the cold. He laughs again, pinning your hips firmly to the bed while he presses hot-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs. 

“Eyes on me,” he murmurs into your skin. “I told you that you were going to watch me eat this pussy.” 

With effort, you lean up on your elbows, watching with your mouth parted as Jungkook tilts forward agonizingly slow to run the flat of his tongue up your cunt. Your fingers squeeze the sheets, thighs flexing under his firm hands. It feels so good but it looks even better. 

He smirks, dipping down again to slow-lick you from top to bottom. You’re hypnotized, feeling your stomach lurch violently at how good it feels and how good he looks sliding his tongue through your wetness. 

“Taste just as sweet as that ice cream,” he murmurs, sliding his hands closer to the apex of your thighs to hold you open. He catches your clit with his lips, sucking softly. Your head falls back as sparks explode under your skin. “Mmm. Like this so much better though.” 

“Feels so good,” you rasp, lifting your head to fixate your eyes on him again. “Fuck, Jungkook.” 

His tongue dips into your hole, tasting you further, drinking you in. “How do you like it?” he asks, tongue slowly zigzagging upward to circle your bundle of nerves. You’re trembling under him, fingers going numb with how tight you hold the sheets. “Slow? Fast? Messy?”

“Messy.”

He hums and brings his entire mouth to you, sucking greedily, tongue laving back and forth. You fall backward, unable to support yourself as he complies with your request. You bring a hand up to cover your face, trying to catch your breath. 

“Shit,” you gasp. 

Jungkook presses his face into your cunt, licking and slurping at you. The sounds are pornographic and you don’t care, your other hand going down between your legs to card through his hair, pulling gently. He grunts in appreciation, fucking his tongue into you, wiggling expertly. 

You feel thoroughly fucked. Your limbs are heavy, the world spinning as he devours you. He lets your hips cant against his face, encouraging you with soft little hums, mouth smacking against you. 

“This fucking pussy,” Jungkook swears, sucking harshly at your folds. “Fuck.”

“Wanna taste,” you beg, thoughts sticky. “Lemme.”

“Fuck.”

Jungkook’s tongue slides through your folds before he stands up, leaning over you. You turn to look at him - his eyes are blown, the bottom half of his face shining with your juice. You whine and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out eagerly. He follows your lead, grabbing your jaw and squeezing as he gathers your slick and his spit in his mouth before letting it drip into yours. 

You can barely taste yourself but you fold your tongue in anyway, closing your mouth to swallow. He seems dazed, pupils dilated and wild as he crashes his mouth to yours. Your teeth click together and you lick into his mouth, tasting yourself properly for a moment before he breaks away and drops back down, attaching his mouth to your pussy.

This time, Jungkook is vicious. He pulls you to the edge of insanity, your thighs closed around his head, his grip on your legs iron. He whips his head back and forth, tongue pressed hot and heavy against you. You climb climb climb climb -

You break. 

Everything in you seizes. You writhe in his hands, coming hard against his mouth. He doesn’t stop, mouthing you through your orgasm until you’re screaming and pushing at his forehead, the stimulation morphing from white-hot bliss to pleasure-laced pain. 

Jungkook lets you push him away only for him to climb up your body, ripping his shirt up as he goes. Your arms feel heavy and sluggish as you pull at his belt. Your fingers fumble, unable to work the button and the zipper, making him laugh.

“I got it,” he whispers, leaning forward to steal a brazen kiss. “You good?”

You nod, unable to form words. You are good, but you’re still dizzy from the orgasm. 

Still, seeing him strip off his shirt has you ready to go again. You lean forward, hand running up the flexing planes of his abs as he shuffles out of his pants. His body is beautiful - cut lines meeting soft skin, whorls of ink staining his arm and chest. His thighs are powerful, flexing as he kicks off his briefs, freeing his hard, heavy cock. 

You reach for him, grasping him in your hand and guiding him toward your messy heat. Jungkook groans as you run his swollen head up and down your folds, making his cock shine with your arousal. 

“Just like that,” he rasps, nodding his head. “Make it nice and fucking wet.”

After a few shallow thrusts, you take the tip and press down into your entrance. You feel a slight ache as he stretches you open despite having fucked you less than an hour ago. You pant through it, watching between your legs as he presses in until his hips are flush with yours. 

It is a tight fit. Full. But so, so good. Jungkook leans forward, placing his hands on either side of his head. You look up to see his necklaces dangling in your face, making you grin. You tug on them, bringing his mouth down to yours for a slow, gentle kiss. 

When he pulls away, he smiles. “Wore them just for you.” 

“Mmm good. Fuck me, please. Feels so full.” 

Jungkook’s left hand goes down, hiking your leg up around his waist. This time is different. He sets the pace slow, pulling all the way out and then gliding back in. You’re drenched enough to make the slide easy, your walls stretching around him the more he fucks you, setting a steady rhythm. 

Pleasure spreads from your cunt outward, unfurling like a blossom. The gentle drag of his cock is mind-numbing, your hands sliding up your stomach to cup your chest, squeezing your tits. He groans in appreciation, picking up his pace a little, the wet slap of skin against skin backtracked by your loud, heavy breathing. 

Sheets cling to your damp skin. You feel your chest heaving, Jungkook’s skin sliding against yours as he pulls you closer. You raise your hips, rolling into him, meeting his thrusts. Your hands slip on his arms, trying to find purchase on anything to ground you. 

“Fuck,” he gasps, trying to catch his breath. 

He pulls away and grabs both of your legs, making you slip. He’s careful not to pull out, pressing your legs together and hooking them side-by-side over his right shoulder, leaning in. The strain on your thighs feels good and the angle hits deep. 

You bring a hand to your mouth, biting into your knuckle. The pain is like a relief, an outlet to channel the pent-up orgasm building like an indestructible storm inside of you. 

Soft, deep moans drip from Jungkook’s mouth. Your feet flex, your body curling as the pleasure spreads. It’s like you can't sit still, every part of you exposed and raw, sparking with electricity as he drives his hips forward relentlessly. 

Your sweaty calf slips off of his shoulder. He slows and taps you on the leg. “Wanna ride me, baby?”

“Yeah. Wanna sit on it.”

“Good girl.”

You preen under the praise. He pulls out, leaving a wet trail of fluid as he does. You’re both a little fuck-drunk and uncoordinated, switching places as he tosses himself on his back, reaching up to grab pillows and stuff them under his shoulders and head.

Facing the windows, you throw a leg over his hips, surprising him by turning your back to him. He growls and slaps a hand on your ass, the sound loud in the room. You moan, spurred by the sting as you shift down to his hips. 

Grabbing his wet cock, you hover over the tip, carefully sinking down his shaft. This angle makes him so much deeper - you swear you feel him in your stomach. Speared to capacity, you take a moment to breathe, overwhelmed and overheated. Jungkook doesn’t mind, content to knead your ass and hips, fingers pressing into muscle and relieving tension. 

“That feels so nice,” you sigh, head rolling to the side. You close your eyes, pussy twitching and stuff full. 

“Yeah? I’ll give you a massage this week.”

“You’re promising me so many things.”

“Have to keep you on the hook.”

“And on your cock?”

He squeezes the globes of your ass. “Definitely on my cock. Feel so good wrapped around me.” 

Leaning forward, you put your hands on his shins, using him as leverage to slowly lift yourself. The drag feels delicious, and when you drop back down, it feels like the air is punched from your lungs. You fuck yourself on him at your own pace, listening to the sound of him falling apart, occasionally his hands cracking your cheeks. 

Biting your lip, you drive yourself to the edge of madness, shaking as your head falls forward between your arms, his name dropping from your mouth. Jungkook slides his hands under you, adding his assistance as he lifts you up and down his cock, helping you bounce. It’s wet and nasty and you don’t care, enjoying every second of it.

“Can I play with this pretty little asshole?” he asks, voice rough. 

“Uh-huh.”

Wet fingers slide between your cheeks. Jungkook presses a finger to your tight rim, not enough to breach but just enough to give mind-melting stimulation. You grind yourself in his lap, focusing on the way it feels every time you roll your hips. Jungkook’s finger circles your asshole in time, making you nearly sob as you work yourself to an orgasm, so fucking close to coming for the third time that night. 

He encourages you softly, come on, baby, and yeah just like that, get yourself off dripping from his lips. It’s like honey to your ears, sweet and syrupy. You work him faster, fingers going tight in the sheets as you hit your stride, arching up toward another release. 

It builds and builds until you’re right on the edge, so so so close that you’re nearly screaming, eyes squeezed shut, breath held, legs shaking. 

You fall over the edge, barely able to keep your rhythm. You feel your pussy flood around him. You’re gulping down air, hips still moving, broken cries interrupted by mindless babble. 

When you start to slow, Jungkook sits up. He nearly knocks you over but he catches you, carefully laying you flat on your stomach. You go boneless, barely there, and floating. Your last orgasm makes everything watery and opaque, Jungkook’s voice is like syrup when he speaks.

“You okay?” You nod vigorously, sticking your ass up a little bit. You’re a little bit useless, but you want him to come, want him to use you. He notices, laughing as he spreads your legs a little, mess running down your folds. “Such a good girl for me, giving me this swollen cunt to use. Fuck, you’re perfect.” 

Tired and spent, you roll your head to the side, closing your eyes, just content to breathe as Jungkook starts to fuck you with abandon. It still feels good, making you tremble underneath him, bordering overstimulation. You toe that line of electricity, fingers twisted in the blanket, breath hissing. 

Jungkook chases his orgasm, bending down to press a hot kiss onto your shoulder as he comes, tongue licking over the sweat and salt of your skin. 

Time moves differently then - at least it feels like it. You don’t know how much passes between Jungkook’s orgasm and him pulling out, or him finally getting up and waking you up. You’re dizzy when you look at him, head cottony and full of almost-sleep. 

Wordlessly, he takes you to the bathroom. You don’t have the mind to look at your surroundings or pay attention to what anything looks like, content to let him pull you into the shower and turn on the hot water. You’re barely there, lost between exhaustion and a post-bliss aura that makes you soft. 

When Jungkook kisses you in the shower, it’s not with the intent to start something else, but it does wake you up. You become a little more lucid, kissing him sweetly, innocent. Afterward, Jungkook wraps you in a fluffy towel and guides you through his bedroom to another room in the house, too tired to change his sheets.

You crash down in the bed together, heavy-limbed and sated. Jungkook pulls you close, already half asleep, eyes shut and mouth parted. You curl into him, realizing you fit perfectly into the curve of his body. Like you were made for him. 

Quickly you fall asleep, your last thought being that perhaps Jungkook is made for you.

-

Morning comes with a brush of a gentle mouth against your shoulder. You hum, turning your head toward the source of the touch. Jungkook’s lips press against yours, morning-slow, tired-soft. You’re sore everywhere - most notably between your legs - but you let him drag you into a lazy makeout session.

Neither of you are really awake. The sun has not come up yet, the world awash in dark grey. Warm blankets wrap around you, heat trapping between your body. Jungkook’s hand slides down your waist and dips between your legs. You part them, sighing as he swipes his fingers through you and groans when they come away wet.

No words are spoken. Only butterfly-soft breaths and gentle gasps of air as he sinks two fingers into your heat from behind. You open yourself up to him, falling into the feel-good stimulation of his touch as it brushes your G-spot.

It doesn’t matter that you’re tired and sore. You want more of Jungkook - cannot get enough of him. Already you’re thinking about the next time you can have him. Even as he lines his cock up with your entrance, pushing in slowly until he’s snug to your core, you’re thinking about how many more times you can take him. How many more ways you want to. 

You’ve barely started and you’re addicted. Craving him. Reaching a hand around behind you to cradle his head to the back of yours, feeling his warm breath fan your ear as he fucks you slowly. Delicate. Far too intimate for the two of you, almost strangers. 

If someone had told you two days ago that your night would start with locking eyes with Jungkook, a world-renowned artist, and end with securing a date that led to this moment, trembling in his arms as he makes you come again, you’d have thought they were crazy. 

Now, you can’t imagine it turning out any other way. Can’t imagine not feeling him shift his hand around to play with your clit, bringing you swiftly to another cresting orgasm, leaving you shaking and broken and near weeping in his arms, coming down from your high as he finishes himself off, cock twitching inside of you. 

Jungkook’s hand leaves your pussy, sliding up your stomach until he reaches the underside of your jaw. He grabs you, turning your face to his, stealing your mouth in a sloppy, searing kiss. 

“Mine,” he mumbles against your mouth between kisses. “Mine.” 

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Ask | Lights Playlist | Previous Episode | Tag Lists | Next Episode

[bubblergoespop]

EA ramble so Spoilers hehehhe (it’s very long and half of it probably doesn’t make sense i’m sorry)

FIRST OF ALL the start of the audio oh em gee he’s such a horny bastard i love it. i need to stop saying that um anyway. tbh i wasn’t even caught off guard that much bc that’s just the kind of thing i expected from a porter audio.

THE SAM CALLL AAWHHH porter’s genuine shock at sam, vincent and lovely leaving the house hurts me because he can’t seem to fathom having the kind of freedom and lack of obligation to make that choice AGH and i love his attitude he’s so silly.

“i am busy with someone very important to me.” kill me now please i can’t take this anymore. this whole audio’s focus was the fact that porter and treasure don’t know each other that well but despite that, porter cares too much about treasure to just up and leave them even at the mention of his house falling apart. it’s crazy how much he cares for treasure already and I LOVE IT wow sure do hope nothing bad happens to this weak defenceless unempowered human….

speaking of unempowered, i LOVE that porter addressed the power imbalance and how that was affecting treasure’s responses to him. i know treasure seemed to be stubborn, straightforward and upfront in porter’s sleep aid audio but i have a feeling that after porter denied “talking” so adamantly, treasure didn’t want to keep pushing him. not just out of care but also a slight hint of fear. not only are they unempowered but they were also completely uninformed before porter and i’m sure they still know little to nothing about the magical world. i can’t blame them for being hesitant to push a vampire, whose abilities they don’t really know the full extent of. saying that, they do still obviously care for porter and i’m so so glad that porter addressed this to ensure that treasure’s fear of giving the “wrong answer” doesn’t hurt their relationship with him.

and on the topic of their relationship, porter’s soft “do we?” after talking about the possibility of wanting to make their relationship long-term and more in depth AAAAAHHHH he’s so cute. and him acknowledging that it’s been a while since he’s had the desire or even the time to get to know someone outside of the solaire house hurts my heart so much. the fact that even after he was “freed” of his maker, he still was too absorbed by the need to appease william that he didn’t have time to live his own life outside of that is so painful to think about and i love it. also he’s just cute when he’s unsure heheh.

ngl i thought porter mentioning treasure’s surname would lead to him revealing his own true surname. but that’s mostly just me being hopeful because it’s still quite soon in his and treasure’s relationship. he doesn’t even know treasure’s surname so i doubt he’s in any place to just drop something so personal, maybe even something that brings up such emotional memories considering even his life before turning wasn’t the best.

porter’s little darling’s hehehe erik loves that term of endearment so much i swear. OH and porter’s repeated mentions of sam, to me, prove that there is something more to sam’s friendship with porter than there seems to have been shown to us. sam himself has already said he has a sort of tolerance for porter’s bullshit, even if it has limits. and now, porter’s mentions of sam throughout a conversation that doesn’t involve him tells me that the pair are closer than they seemed to be. which makes sam leaving the house hurt even more oh my god i can’t believe how porter feels considering maybe the one person in the house he could stand to be around is leaving. and even after trying to make up with vincent, now vincent is leaving too. porter lets pack our bags too and run away together as well please, you deserve everything.

UGH TREASURE MEETING SAM AUDIO WHENNNN??? erik please give sam a chance to reflect the “sam landed you?” comment onto porter with treasure.

AAAGGGHHHHH i can’t wait to see where this relationship goes. i didn’t think this would turn into such a long ramble wow i love this man (he’s fictional) he’s such a cutie (he has no canon appearance) i wanna marry him (he’s nothing but a voice).

[nothomegal]

Mmm, this isnt a fic request (or maybe yes) but i NEED for reader to break and finally give in for their cuddle session with Danny, oh! And finally start to fall in love with him

Aww you're right anon! I guess it's only the matter of time for the reader to eventually give in and accept the weird ghost guy that keeps sneaking into their life (and house).

And I know it took me way too long to do your request, I apologize for the wait, had some trouble writing this since I never liked how it turned out -.-' Luckily though, I think I finally got something decent!

"Favorite person"

(Ghostface x GN Reader)

Summary: everyone has a limit, and unfortunately today is the day you reached yours as life wasn't all too kind to you for the last 24 hours... But hey, at least your dear intruder has your back, so not everything is that bad! Right, doll?

Warnings: mild example of unhealthy and obsessive behavior, the rest it's all fluff.

Word count: 2.2k

The grip around (Y/N) remained tight. The intruder kept holding their tied form closely in complete silence, something very out of his character.

But such oddness didn’t come from nowhere, and (Y/N) was the one who indirectly caused it. Today was probably the worst day of their life, everything that could’ve gone wrong, went wrong. It's honestly incredible they still had the emotional strength to return home without bursting into tears on their way.

They’re not quite sure how or when they fell asleep, their mind been a mush of blur since they entered their home. All they can remember is waking up already laying in bed with their arms tied behind their back and their body pressed against the chest of the masked man, the same one that would often come to mess with them.

Sometimes he would reveal himself willingly and others just stay in the shadows and observe them from afar or straight from the corner while they’re in a deep sleep.

This night however, apart from tying their hands, he haven't done anything from his previous visits. No cheeky remarks about anything specific they did that day, no rants about some random topic and no attempts to scare or tease them... Heck, he didn't even run his hand through their hair or body. Absolutely no additional touches beside holding them close.

This really threw (Y/N) off. Ghostface, who's been a huge pain for them, the authorities and basically everyone in the town, was... Acting so thoughtful, nothing like the selfish villain he's been portraying himself as for the past numerous nights.

It's not the first time he hugs and holds them in his arms, he's actually super touchy with them and never fails to express his amusement of how helpless they always look. But now?... Now it doesn't feel like any of his shenanigans, but a genuine attempt to comfort them while not pushing too much, though the effectiveness of said attempt remains questionable.

Their thoughts and wonders were interrupted when they feel movement and then something grab their chin to then gently move their head up until they're face to face with that unsettling mask that resembled a ghost.

—“Feeling better?"—

They don't make a sound, quite the opposite, they press their lips in a thin line as they stare into the dark eyes of his mask.

—"If I take off the tape, will you talk to me?"—

Their body tensed at such question. Is he... Is he actually going to?...

—"Of course as long as you don't try anything funny... But you know better."— he leans closer to your face. —"Right, (Y/N)?"—

They gulp nervously, but Ghostface is right, they do know better than to gamble with their luck. Besides, they have no energy to fight or struggle anyways, so of course they'll play along... For now, at least.

With a more defeated look, they slowly nod.

The man releases a pleased hum and without a warning yanks the tape off of their moth, making them yelp from the pain and surprise.

—“There you go, hope it didn’t hurt too much.”— he snorts at your cringed expression.

—“It… It did… A bit.”— you mutter quietly. —“But not as much as a stab would…”—

The killer paused at the sound of their voice, but the calm was short as out the sudden he grabbed them by the chin again and squeezed their face a bit.

—"Aww, look, your first words.”— he remarks playfully before tilting his head. —“Well? Isn’t it just sweet to finally be able to talk, hmm?”—

(Y/N) remains quiet for a couple of seconds, unsure if they should speak again or not. But when It became clear that the interaction wouldn't progress without their contribution, they force themselves to talk.

—"I… Y-Yeah… It is nice."— you answer while studying his masked face. —"But… Please, don’t get too mad at me for replying slow... I'm not used to talk to... Killers, after all. {Or people in general...}”—

—"...Mad? At you? Oh silly..."—

His head then straightened and he squeezed their face a bit tighter.

—"You're so comically shy that I wish I could just cut you up and pull out some confidence out of your body."— he says in a playful tone, though it sounded way more sinister than intended. —"But it's not that you aren't good at speaking, it's the people you call 'friends' that made you believe that..."—

His tone then became significantly colder at the last part, which made (Y/N) tense and go quiet. But despite the dread, they couldn't help but agree with the killer, their friends indeed aren't as good as they thought.

It's another of the many bad things that happened to them today. They weren't supposed to discover it, they just got in the wrong place at the wrong time and ended up overhearing the few people they thought they were close with talk about them. Nasty comment after comment, disgust and disrespect lingering in their tones as they said their name between insults and cruel jokes…

They didn't even bother to listen to the end of the conversation, they just fled the scene and did their best to not cry until they arrived home. And in the entire day, in this whole period of time they looked so pathetic and miserable, none of their other ‘friends’ bothered to see if they're alright or help with any other issue. Absolutely no one took a moment to even say 'hello', and that made (Y/N) feel the loneliest, like they're just a ghost in other people's life, being acknowledged only when they announce their presence.

They get pulled back to reality when the hand lets go of their face and their body is pressed closer to the masked man, making the embrace feel more intimate.

—"...Sorry I can't take the angst as easily as I take people out."— he mutters, his hand slowly traveling up and down your head. —"But I can prevent said angst in the future. These assholes will not disturb you again, I made sure they won't..."— his grip tightens, turning almost possessive.

A shiver traveled down their spine at his words.

They should be afraid, panic that this stranger so deliberately admitted of harming, and most likely murdering, their friends like it’s the most mundane thing to do. They definitely should at least freak out or give any other kind of distressed reaction, they should… But they don’t.

To be completely honest, they weren't even upset at what Ghostface did. After today's interaction their view on his character changed quite drastically. Though he still had that playful and cocky behavior, they now know that whenever he says or shows them care... It's genuine, or so they think. Could this be a trick to make them let their guard down? Definitely. Does it make sense? Uh... Not really, but this man likes to do odd things to throw off any bystander with his shenanigans.

But even if their strange relationship is just a game to him, then damn he's good at it. They almost feel like them matter, like they can be loved and it's just bad luck people around them can't see or appreciate them... Unfortunately though... They know it's not true, it can't be true, they're too pathetic for that, so much that even a psycho killer had pity over them to pretend-

A surprised gasp escaped (Y/N) when their body was suddenly flipped and tackled against the mattress, with Ghostface now looming over them.

They didn't even need to see his face to know what type of expression he had, the atmosphere was all it took to know he was upset.

—"I am not pleased with how you keep viewing yourself, (Y/N)."— he finally says after a pause. —"And I am certainly pissed that you're doing it around me."—

All (Y/N) could do is stare at the ghastly mask in dead silence. Despite having their mouth untapped, they couldn't bring themselves to make a sound, as if paralyzed from fear and anticipation of what he would do if they happen to upset him more.

When the killer began to lean down lowly, they held their breath by instinct.

—"I'll say this one time, and you better not force me to repeat it."— he said in a low and slow tone. —"You are my favorite person in this whole cursed world. And I swear if you dare to think badly about yourself again, I'll fucking stab you."—

He pauses, either letting his words sink in or re-evaluating what he just said or is about to say.

After not coming to a clear conclusion, he sighs with mild frustration.

—"I... Look. I'm aware of my reputation and the image you have of me. And though I do like to amuse myself with these visits of mine, not ones I did it to mess with you, not in the way you think..."—

He pauses again, the eyes of his mask staring directly into theirs, either studying their expression or thinking.

—"I wanted to end you ones..."—

As he speaks again in a lower voice as he extends his hand, aiming for their neck.

—"...But I don’t want it anymore."—

The hand was drastically redirected towards their face, covering their eyes in a quick movement. Whatever sound of surprise or confusion (Y/N) was about to make is shushed when something soft and warm was pressed against their lips, the sensation sending shivers through their body.

—"{Or ever again.}"—

That's all they heard before their eyes were uncovered and Ghostface plopped on the mattress right next to them, his head placed on his hand as he waits for their reaction.

(Y/N) can only cluelessly blink while staring at the ceiling, wondering if the warm sensation they just felt on their lips was actually Ghostface-...

Their face starts to get progressively redder as the realization kicks in. My god. Ghostface, from all people, actually!-

Their head snaps at his direction when that famous deep raspy chuckle left him, clearly entertained by the fifty shades of red their face is going through.

—"What? Never had a kiss stolen before?"— he teases.

—"I- Uh... No. Not really..."— you answer as you look away, face even redder.

—"Good, all for me then."—

Now it's (Y/N) who lets out a snort, finding his behavior silly yet quite charming. Huh, strange how quickly they moved on, the previous dread and fear they felt when he pinned them was now like a long forgotten dream...

Is the famous Stockholm syndrome affecting them already? Why are they suddenly so okay with his presence? Even when knowing about his mood swings they can't shake off this strange sensation of comfort...

Is it because his actions and intentions are now confirmed to be genuine? Because he really seems to like and cherish their company? Cherish them?...

...

...You know?

Fuck everything.

They're too tired for this 'BS' about morality and shit. It will be a tomorrow problem to overthink, now they should just give in and take this night to relax and... Well, maybe even put into use this little freedom of speech they got and actually chat to the man, maybe even get to know more about him.

They look at killer again, the dark eyes of his mask still fixated on their form as he observes them in silence, almost like he's looking at a piece of art rather than another person.

—"So... Are you going to stay here all night?"— you finally ask.

He's silent for a little while.

—"You want me to?"—

—"Kinda. You... You're not too bad of a company, I guess."— you shoot him a timid smile. —"And even if I didn't I doubt you would've leave."—

He lets out a snort at their last comment and then lies down, a bit closer to them.

—"You're right, you're now haunted by me either you want it or not."—

There is a small pause between them, both just laying and looking at each other, a strange atmosphere of calm now lingered in the room, making this moment feel oddly right.

Out of the sudden, they feel a pair of arms snake around their form and bring them ones again into that warm and intimate hug. And this time, they welcome the gesture by snuggling closer to the man and letting out a content sigh.

—"So."— he then says as he tilts his head to look at you, now in his arms. —"What's your favorite scary movie? I never got an answer to this question."—

—"Huh? Aren't you supposed to know that?"— you arch your brow. —"Y'know cuz of the whole stalker thing and all..."—

—"Yes, but want to hear you tell me that. I just really like the sound of your voice."—

They can feel their cheeks warm up, and they can't avoid to get even shyer when the man chuckles at their expression.

—"W-Well... I have a couple."—

At first they sounded awkward while speaking, as if expecting him to interrupt them or laugh at their preferences. Nevertheless, he never made a sound and seemed to pay close attention to what they're saying, sometimes even asking more things about the movies when given the opportunity. Overall, Ghostface is a very nice guy to talk about any kind of nerdy horror stuff!

At some point, they even forgot that the man holding them was a serial murder. It actually felt like talking to an old dear friend rather than a criminal.

And as they talk through the night, (Y/N) finally understands why Ghostface always became so touchy and clingy whenever he had a bad day.

Cuddles and rants indeed help, especially if done with your favorite person.

And though they're certain he's not one yet... Just by seeing how the night progresses.

They wouldn't be too surprised if he somehow sneaks his way into such spot.

[lumikore]

My Medic loadout I still don't know if he's an oc or not I guess he could be categorised as self insert oc but he's not really he's just my loadout guy but I do imagine him in my head in little scenarios mostly like stuff that would happen to me ingame and he acts like how I would but he's a little more mean and depressed like another day another dollar kinda vibe yknow so he's not me but he kind of is like he's my loadout yknow that's what other people see when they see me playing medic but also I don't 'kin' medic or anything like that if anything I think I'm most like engineer if I had to pick one Idk maybe he's a tf2-sona if that's a thing he's not exactly like me but he kind of represents me I mean he's my pfp as well on here and on Steam and on yt maybe he's like a mascot for my brand like Ronald McDonald or Chuck E Cheese but for Lumikore Tf2 Drawings And Etc Incorporated you feel me but like I also have hcs for him I guess they're canon if he's my character but anyway I think he plays the harp which well I mean I play the harp so I guess I'm projecting onto him a little bit there but it's ok like I project onto every single character I make ever it doesn't mean it's me it just means it is influenced by me which of course it's going to be if I made it and guys sorry for not using commas or full stops I can't help it this is what my thoughts sound like to me and it feels really weird and unnatural when I have to add pauses instead of just connecting all my thoughts in one sentence like how they come to me in my brain I didn't sleep very well last night btw so I'm kinda going a little crazy I slept 4 hours and then got up at midnight to eat strawberries and cherries and prosciutto and brie as stated in my other post and then tried to go back to sleep but it didn't work so I just layed awake for a bit now it's about 11:30 and I'm quite tired now thinking about it but I mustn't have a nap or my sleep cycle will get even worse and it also just occurred to me no one wants to read this and I think I got a little off topic as well but if I write a big enough wall of text peole will have no choice but to see it and think wow what is this guy on about that he needs to write so much under a little drawing post guys write Krampus in the comments if you read this far I'm also kind of sad rn about Krampus because after the event is over I'll have to wait another year before I can see my lovely wife Krampus again and she's gonna be so lonely without me like what does she do all year stay at home all alone it's sad really who's going to give her love and attention while I'm off fighting in the war (2fort) and genuinely aside from Krampus I really like the Smissmas maps especially Carrier and Galleria I don't really like Haarp it's very confusing and stressful but still I hope some of them stay throughout the year because I just know if they only come back in December then they will get hardly any players ever again cause people want to play the new maps every year and I think I should stop writing so I can go play tf2 now so I can play the event maps before they're gone so bye.

[siddyyyyyyyy]

University Romance

Johnny 'Soap' McTavish x female!Reader

Wc: ~2 K ; part two

warnings: being kind of stressed out, 'crazy' chemistry professor Soap, no y/n used, Johnny and Reader are about the same age, the name of the university is fictional

summary: You and Johnny are two professors at a university, and he often catches you working late in your office. Also, you're just really good friends and there's probably more to it.

a/n: I don't know how I got that in my head, it's a quick drabble, but I hope I could get my idea across, even if my first language isn't english. Have fun!

Redcrest High Academy, Monday 11:21 PM

Work is fun. At least for you, and that's also what you're trying to tell yourself every time you have to stay in late. It's a pretty social workplace, getting to meet rather famous professors but also some pretty edgy students. Fortunately, you don't have to deal with the edgy kind of students since you're only a history professor. And also take part in some psychology lectures, where most of the edgy students are. Very unfortunate.

This time, it's the grading that keeps you up at work for longer than usual. Inside your office, it's no one but you and those paperlong paragraphs your students wrote about a current topic you are discussing from the previous lectures. It is already dark outside, but the small lamp on your table is working, casting a warm light onto the papers in front of you. The big light is on as well, but it never quite reaches your desk, so the small lamp is a good help.

You are about to put the grade on the essay when you hear a knock at your door, humming absentmindedly for them to come in while being focused on calculating the grade in your calculator again. Of course, it's no other than Johnny, or as his students call him, Soap, for always having crystal clear objects for experiments, having been caught cleaning those in breaks as well. He walks in and steps up to your desk, hands in pockets and studying the big pile of papers, before his eyes land on the essay in front of you. He understands quickly, nodding to himself before he clears his throat shortly to catch your attention.

»Grading, huh? At this hour?«

He questions and takes a look at his watch with an exaggerated arm motion before he puts his hand back into the pocket. You finally manage to write the grade down with some feedback on the side before glancing up to him.

»What?« You put your glasses down and check on the digital clock next to your lamp, realising it's about time you usually go to sleep normally. Johnny tilts his head at your question, a hint of concern crossing his features.

»How many essays did you grade today? Ten, twenty?«

»Eleven.«

He rolls his eyes and takes a seat at the chair in front of your desk, crossing his arms as he leans back. »You're aware it's eleven PM now, right? Lectures ended four hours ago.«

You nod in response, having had your last lecture around that time. Unfortunately for you, he is just as work consumed as you, which means he often catches you staying late or napping at your office.

»I know, I was about to pack my stuff anyway.«

He watches you in disbelief, sighing out dramatically.

»No, you weren't. Didn't even notice me come in, hypnotised by those papers.«

Johnny scoffs lightly and gestures to the essays, now being two piles of graded and ungraded work.

»I get it, you like your job, and that's great, but... c'mon, not even I am as determined as you.«

He shrugs lightly and shifts on his seat to lean back further, seemingly tired from today. You shake your head and stand off your chair, smoothing out the papers before groaning lightly from your lower back pain. As always, you stretch your arms and crack your back, the sounds of joints and bones cracking being soft but loud enough to make Johnny grimace slightly.

»Yeah, you need a break.« He nods to himself, making you huff out amused.

»Listen, I don't need you telling me what to do. I know when to take a break.«

He shakes his head at your words, disagreeing and ready to talk your ears off about the importance of rest. Before he could start, you put your hand up in the air, looking to him finally.

»And now that you're here, I'm going to pack my stuff and get outta here. And you won't say another word.«

Johnny almost interrupts you and wants to say something again before he settles on watching you while he stays in his seat. It's silent, the only sounds being the light ruffles of paper as you organise them and put them back in your bag. The glasses you left on the desk earlier are being put back on the bridge of your nose, slinging your bag around your shoulder finally. He finally speaks up, staying seated as he watches you for now.

»You're lucky I was still here, building up the experiments for tomorrow.«

You don't believe him, giving him a side long glance.

»More like cleaning those weird bowls and glasses of yours.« He's not too amused at your light jab, getting off the chair while gesturing to himself.

»I am just doing my job properly. Don't want my students to get hurt from dirty-«

»What were those loud sounds from this morning, by the way? Did you try to set this place up?«

He perks up at your question, even though you interrupted him just now. Johnny has a big grin on his face now as he gets to explain it to you, walking around your desk while he does so. You listen to him explain in full detail why he decided to do such an experiment and how he set it up, telling you how his students made the small bombs he told them to construct. It led to having built colourful mini-bombs that they just had to set off in the lecture hall. The ceiling is high enough anyway.

Johnny and some other students had some blue and yellow sticking on their clothes and faces, but it was fun, and his students know how to build mini bombs now.

»You don't think it was risky to teach them how to build literal bombs?« That's your only question you have for him now, as everything else doesn't surprise you anymore.

»No. They're studying chemistry; they would have it figured out sooner or later.« He reasons casually, which makes you agree somewhat quietly.

----

Redcrest High Academy, Tuesday 8:13 AM

You're thankful to Johnny for baically forcing you to stop working the night before, because you can already feel how tired and sore your body is after sitting and grading for so long. The lecture hall is mostly quiet as usual, something most teachers in schools would kill for, but in your case it's making you almost frustrated. Why are your students always so quiet during lectures? Do they fear you? Before you could worry any longer about them, a hand goes up from a student, seemingly wanting to ask something. »Have you graded our assignments yet, miss-« »No.«

Okay, maybe it's no wonder your students are mostly silent during your lecture, but being all bubbly and social like your favourite colleague is not easy. And forcing yourself to be more social and funny with your students will only earn you some weird or confused stares. A loud, sudden sound goes off, similar to a small explosion, making everyone jump up and look around for a moment. You hold your hand up and sigh out wearily. »It's probably Professor McTavish again. Calm down.« Not a second later and said Professor is peeking into your lecture hall with a worried expression, his lab coat seemingly less clean, him having a rather dishevelled look. »Your fire alarms didn't go off, right? Don't worry, we already put the fire out. Just checking in.«

He can't be serious.

He clicks the door shut, and the hall is silent for a brief moment before some chuckles and laughs errupt, making you smile slightly as well. You're making a mental note to ask what he was doing with his class again before focussing back on the task at hand. With that quick disturbance, the lecture continues as before.

Once lunch break begins, it's your mission to find Johnny and talk to him about the earlier disturbance. It's certainly not hard to find him; walking into his lecture hall makes it a quick find as you see him cleaning the tables and the other stuff the chemics have around. »Weak arson attempt or another experiment?« He gets surprised by your voice and presence, turning around to face you. He grows sheepish for a moment before chuckling lightly at your question. »I guess one of my students needs to study a bit more. He never gets to set up another experiment alone again.«

You are sure, you could hear some light tension in his voice while he continues to clean and scrub around. Maybe he is just focused on cleaning so much, making him seem a bit tense. In all honesty, he rarely gets mad at his students or scolds them, but it's evident this particular student had to endure some of his strict words after class. »Hm... well, at least my students got a kick out of it.«

He barks out a laugh at your words, pausing on his cleaning for a moment. »I'm sure they did. But my students were afraid for their lives there.«

This makes you shake your head subtly at how serious that sounds. But it's nothing new, just another tuesday at work. After a few more words, you retreat from the room and get to continue your own work, the day going by quickly. ----

Redcrest High Academy, Wednesday 8:43 AM

Another work day, another chaotic day for the chemistry students. The class is lively inside, talking to classmates, making jokes, and telling stories to one another before their professor walks in. It gets more calm once Professor McTavish walks in, most being curious about what they will do in this lecture. He seems to be in a good mood today, as usual, standing by the whiteboard as he explains today's lesson and shows them some diagrams over the projector.

The atmosphere is more light and exciting, the students having their first semester and enjoying themselves, not needing to face the horrors of writing essays or doing research at home for the class yet. A particular student holds his hand up, him already having the nickname 'boom box' from Johnny for being louder and more extroverted than the other students.

»Are you and the history professor something?« Johnny pauses at the question, not having expected such a question. He blinks and looks rather caught off guard by the question, making some students chuckle. »Don't get me wrong, you just seem like a married couple. You're always together and stuff.« Johnny has to literally restrain himself from thinking about you both being potentially something more than friends, acting as neutral as possible in front of his students. He gathers himself quickly, shaking his head as he holds one hand up slightly. »This is chemistry class, no? We have no time to discuss something like this.«

This earns some classic booing from his students, making him roll his eyes while he just tries to get back to the lesson and also teach them about minding their own business.

----

Redcrest High Academy, Wednesday 9:00 AM

You enter his office with two coffees in hand, each for the two of you, as you find him leaned over his desk with his back to you, looking like he is contemplating something really hard. The sight isn't new as you're walking up to him and place one cup at his desk beside him. He acknowledges it with a small nod and finally notices who you are, turning his whole body to face you.

»Did you know my students think we're married?« Silence follows afterwards, blinking at him while he takes a loud sip from his coffee. »Wow, straight to the point, huh?«

He doesn't match your sarcastic energy or finds it funny, staying serious as he stands in front of you.

»They thought we were married.« He repeats, making you narrow your eyes at him before realisation hits.

This is gonna reach the other colleagues in no time.

a/n: Wow, cliffhanger, oh my god, no one has done this before!!! Let me know what you think about this, I'm not sure if I will continue writing about this silly guy kachow

[mulletmitsuya]

Sano Groupchat (and closely affiliated)

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, the word necrophilia is mentioned twice, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of drugging, also a "description" of a penis (it's not what it sounds like i swear)

Side note: i've realized that my warnings without context, make me look like a crazy person so please bear with me 😔🙏

Desc: Mikey gets kidnapped by a crazy fan and so forth (i'm so bad at these, might remove them 💀)

Shinichiro: Mikey, we're glad to have you back. i'll release a statement saying you need to recover from the traumatizing situation you've just been through. just rest up okay?

Emma: yeah, we're here if you need anything :((

Izana: you're alive, so

Emma: Izana ☹️

Izana: ...

Izana: we are here to support you through difficult times

Izana: as your "siblings" 🙂

Shinichiro: what are the quotation marks for bud 😞✊?

Izana: my hand slipped

Shinichiro: oh okay then!

Mikey: guys

Shinichiro: Draken, how's the arrest going?

Draken: the girls trial is in a few weeks from now and she can't afford bail so she's locked up

Mikey: guys it's not that deep

Mikey: like, it's not as big of a deal as you're making it out to be

Izana: see? he's fine

Emma: YOU WERE MISSING FOR 2 WEEKS

Emma: YOU WERE LITERALLY KIDNAPPED BY A CRAZY FAN. IT'S A BIG DEAL

Mikey: but they didn't hurt me?? they made all my favourite snacks and food and tucked me into bed every night. which maybe was a little weird but i still liked it. i had a very good time actually. so why are we arresting her? she's chill fr

Draken: that's all she did?

Baji: how do you know she didn't drug you in your sleep and do things to you 🤨

Mikey: bro?

Shinichiro: Keisuke, that's a very sensitive topic for some people, so let's not say it so casually okay?

Baji: what?

Baji: is it a long shot to say Mikey was touched or something?

Baji: i mean, what other motives did she have

Baji: and you guys saw her tweets right? she's obsessed with you

Baji: wasn't she the one who calculated the circumference, length, girth and colour of your penis??

Draken: no that's another one

Baji: nvm

Baji: that was Haruchiyo

Haruchiyo: fuck off

Mikey: Baji we literally go to onsens together with Haruchiyo. you've all seen my penis 😐

Baji: hard and soft are two different things

Baji: you pervert

Haruchiyo: it wasn't me, what the fuck?

Haruchiyo: i'm too famous to be risking my reputation like that

Haruchiyo: i'd need a burner account no one could access, which i don't have

Haruchiyo: so no Baji, i don't have a Mikey fanpage

Haruchiyo: that would be crazy and weird and bordeline insane

Baji: i didn't say any of that?

Baji: and you are all 3 of those things🤨

Mikey: well whatever cause everyone was wrong. it's small

Mikey: you know what it's not even small. it's average for my size, actually

Mikey: i mean i'm 5'3 yk. what did people expect

Mikey: like, it would look weird if i had a big one

Mikey: it would be disproportionate to have a big one

Mikey: i see people saying "i know it's big😍" or stuff like "i wanna gag on it"

Emma: gross

Emma: why are you telling us this 😟

Mikey: which i find really flattering

Draken: flattering isn't the word i'd use

Mikey: yeah thats cause you're a fucking prude, Ken-chin

Draken: it's cause i have a wife, jackass

Emma: 😊❤

Mikey: but seriously it wouldn't make sense for me to have a big penis

Baji: excuses excuses 🙄

Mikey: my penis is fine

Baji: they gave you dick dysmorphia

Mikey: whatever it's not like i'll use it anyway

Baji: bottom?

Mikey: i just don't like sex 😐

Izana: are we here to listen to Mikey talk about his small dick or what

Shinichiro: yeah maybe we should... not

Mikey: well, yours is skinny so whatever

Shinichiro: no it's not 😕

Shinichiro: i've had many people compliment me for my size, actually

Izana: "many"

Izana: "people"

Mikey: we know it's not girls, just say you fuck men (Wakasa) dude

Baji: no girl wants you bro

Baji: (isn't it Takeomi?)

Mikey: (Takeomi is violently homophobic)

Baji: (oh yeah)

Haruchiyo: what are you guys doing

Mikey: (whispering)

Haruchiyo: you guys are texting

Haruchiyo: we can all see this

Haruchiyo: are you fucking dumb

Haruchiyo: not you, Mikey

Mikey: thanks Haru 😋

Baji: he was doing it too???

Baji: i get why Takeomi was homophobic 😒

Baji: (when are you going to address his crush on you, Mikey)

Mikey: (it's not a crush, you ever heard of bff's, Keisuke🙄?)

Baji: (that's like saying me and Kazutora are bff's)

Mikey: (you are?)

Baji: (i'm in love with him)

Mikey: (oh yeah)

Mikey: (but Haru isn't in love with me)

Baji: (he probably creams his pants when you use that nickname)

Haruchiyo: i can see this

Haruchiyo: you aren't "whispering"

Haruchiyo: IT'S A FUCKING GROUPCHAT

Draken: does this matter?

Draken: we were talking about the fact that Mikey was kidnapped

Draken: Baji is right, something really bad could have happened if they have you longer

Draken: along with the statement, we need to talk to your fans man

Draken: this is a line crossed

Baji: no shit

Baji: also, why didn't you, i don't know, fight back and escape or something?

Mikey: i didn't want to hit a girl 😔

Mikey: like i said, i enjoyed my time there

Mikey: knew you guys would find me eventually so it was like, a side quest

Draken: of course you'd call a kidnapping a side quest

Emma: how'd she even kidnap you?

Mikey: she saw me at a convenience store and they'd run out of my favourite sweeties

Mikey: and i was whining about it to the cashier, so i guess she overheard

Mikey: and she said she had some in her car

Mikey: so i go there with her

Mikey: then she asked for an autograph

Mikey: then i'm pretty sure she drugged me with chloroform or something cause i was out

Emma: chloroform isn't like the movies. it takes a while to knock someone out, so that's not really likely unless you stood there and took it

Mikey: ...

Mikey: ok fine, do you want me to say i fell asleep in her car? huh?

Mikey: cause that's what i did

Izana: it's like you *want* to die or something

Izana: nvm

Baji: are you stupid or something

Draken: Mikey

Draken: you are 25 years old

Draken: and you're telling me

Draken: that you fell for the "hi kid, want some candy?" trick

Draken: are you fucking serious

Shinichiro: Mikey...

Shinichiro: you could have gone to another store 🙁

Shinichiro: i almost lost you

Shinichiro: because of jellybeans? really?

Mikey: they're my favourite sweet okay ☹️

Mikey: and i was lazy and tired

Mikey: hence, falling asleep

Baji: he has to have necrophilia or something

Shinichiro: i don't think that's the word buddy

zana: "necrophilia"

Izana: didn't you graduate?

Baji: working on it 💪

Izana: ah alright

Izana: what's your IQ?

Baji: below average

Mikey: Baji, don't tell people that ☠️

Izana: ...

Izana: wow he actually answered me

Emma: *sigh*

Draken: what's the point of tying out your physical actions

Emma: shut up a little babe

Draken: ok

Emma: what Baji meant, was necormancy

Draken: that's incorrect, babe

Emma: omg can we just wrap this up

Izana: both of you are wrong 💀

Izana: what is wrong with you people

Izana: necrophilia= sexual attraction to a dead body

Izana: necormancy= communication with dead people

Izana: narcolepsy= condition characterized by an extreme tendency to sleep

Izana: i'm assuming you guys meant to say the third one, for Mikey

Izana: holy shit

Emma: no need to be mean about it 😒

Baji: i'll add those to my "new words" list

Mikey: maybe i do have that

Mikey: i do fall asleep in very odd places

Emma: you know what we can talk about this tommorow. time out

*only admins can send messages*

[chiiyuuvv]

[DAY 10] masterlist ᡣ𐭩 !

— " being unable to keep his eyes off of you " ; library

♡list : @lecheugo , @imthisclosetokms , @rizzkisworld , @hyvelxve , @starryriize

As soon as the bell rings sungchan is out the door, waving his friends goodbye as he makes his way to the local library that was only a block away from his current location. There, he was going to return his book that he had borrowed from the kind librarian, before making his way to the rows and rows of long shelves, pondering to himself what he was going to read next.

If he was actually going to read it.

Sungchans been coming to the library for a week straight now, not to find nice literature that could wash away his boredom, no, it was to catch a glimpse at you. You were the pretty girl that came here everyday to study your past works and prepare for future tests. And to say the very least, sungchan was mesmerized.

He loved watching your eyes light up when you finally understood your topic, or when a pout formed onto your lips whenever you got a question wrong. You had him at a chokehold although you didnt know him, the boy willingly dropping his friends and sports just to be in the same room as you. He was more than mesmerized.

But he also was a little shy.

Okay, really shy.

The poor boy couldnt even admire you for long when you suddenly turn your head, his head moving in sync as it becomes a bright shade of red, finding a random book to distract him. Thats why hes been buying books everyday, so it didnt seem obvious he was staring at you.

But he couldnt help it. Not when you looked so, so pretty, blue light blockers sitting on the bridge of your nose perfectly as he mindlessly swoons more and more after every minute, every second. He hadn't told any of his friends what hes been up to, and he'd prefer to keep it that way, incase one of them decides to slip up infront of you.

Sometimes he loves them, other times he despises them.

Sungchan watches as you let out a long yawn, your head covering your open mouth before you take off your glasses and turn off your computer, resting your head on top of your arms which laid on the table. Were you tired? Usually, you keep a cup of coffee with you so you could power through the evening, but it seemed as if you've forgot it. Sungchan could of brought you a cup, and maybe then would he finally grow the balls to talk to you.

His steps are quiet, light as a feather as he inches toward your seemingly sleeping body, checking to see if you've really travel off to dream land. And it looks like.. you did. Sungchan quietly coos at your sleeping figure, swiftly removing his jacket to rest on your back for warmth. He was contemplating on staying with you, but in the end decides to leave since it would be weird to watch you sleep, plus hard to explain.

But although sungchan was feeling shy, he wanted to let you know that it was his jacket he had lended, and that he doesnt need it back. A smile forms onto his face as he starts to imagine how tiny you'd look in his clothes, how cute you'd look. He opts to leave you a little sticky note that was placed right beside your head, before swinging his bag on his shoulder and leaving for the day.

Hey.. i know you dont know me and i know this is kinda weird.. but i like you a lot. I think you're really pretty when you're focused on your work or when you're reading.. but im too shy to say it in front of you T_T

I'm sungchan, by the way, and you can keep the jacket, by the way. Wait, did i already say that? Anyways um i think you're really pretty and i like you a lot and i hope you've had a good nap. Whatever you're studying, you will achieve it in the future so dont give up. Bye :)