#bts povs

[artscloudy]

• ° ● ` ·.· • ¤ ° ´SPY JUNGKOOK` ° ¤ • ·.· ` ● ° •

• ° ● ` ·.· • ¤ ° ´¯` ° ¤ • ·.· ` ● ° •

♡ Jungkook ♡

[jkslipppiercing]

Horny For My Bestie | Jeon JK Oneshot | Moodboard

☆ "Is she the loud type? Would she scream? Whimper? Cry?

My cock twitches."

☆ Pairing: Bsf!oc, horny!jk.

☆ Genre: Smut, angst, EXPLICIT CONTENT!!

☆ WC: ???

☆ Warnings: to be disclosed soon...

☆ Written & Edited By @jkslipppiercing On Tumblr.

☆ READ 🔗HERE🔗

a/n: HI. IM SO DAMN EXCITED AHHHHEUEJDNFHEI im gonna make yall suffer with this one. ugh. im so excited. but i also have to be patient. AHHHH IM SO EXCITED OMG.

GENERAL TAGLIST (if you want to be tagged in this oneshot ONLY, please mention that in the form/reply to this post.)

INDEX

@hoseokteardrop @nochuel @kaitieskidmore97 @nays2112 @jksoftii @yu-justme @meadow-in-spring @bunnykoos @looneybleus @fushigurosdarling @alpha-mommy69 @junecat18 @xjiminsthighsx @tanniesdolls @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @whoa-jo @ahgasegotarmy116 @jksusawife @frgetmenotz @baechugff @partyparty-yah @army130613210521 @drugerlime @allisonstonex @hopekive @llallaaa @tarahardcore @hopetookmysoul @betysotelo18 @harmonic55 @ecrvea @awesomebabyyoda @peterstarkchrishiddleston @pinkrockstar19 @sweetestseoul @luv--youu @mochminnie @coletaehyung @whitelies2248-blog @ash07128 @bangtans-momma

@yourbobaeyestell @laylasbunbunny @btsnpniff @olimpiiaa @caro134340lina @ohsweetmimosa @lovingkoalaface @httpjeonlicious @t-alyssa2006 @aloverga @sexytholland @skzthinker

yall as excited as i am? 👀

[armpirate]

Is it the water or is it me? || JJK

pairing: Jungkook x fem!reader

w.c.: 2.3k

Warnings: Smut, public sex, unprotected sex, fingering, handjob.

Summary: You and Jungkook have been working together for quite some time, which ended up with him growing a crush on you that was one sided. Or so he thought.

There you were again, walking around with that radiant smile that made everyone instantly smile at you, as if you brought with you a ray of sunshine in your pocket. Jungkook wasn’t sure about the rest, but he for sure thought his morning would get better only with the idea of seeing you there.

He wasn’t sure of when his crush on you started, but he knew that something clicked in his brain when you first stepped in the office, starting your practices there. And he remembered how hard it was for him to focus on something else when his boss assigned him to be your mentor. He tried to keep his focus on the screen, but his eyes kept running over your body, tracing the subtle way your curves formed under your floral dress.

And while he thought it was a temporary attraction because you were the new thing, it only kept evolving as you grew closer together.

As time went by, you two became the type of coworkers that would be constantly together in the workplace, and that would get more touchy than you should -sometimes his hand would reach to your nape, under your hair, to give it a playful and soft squeeze; sometimes it was you the one who touched his arm or playfully laid your head on your shoulder as you laughed together. Not to mention those “colleagues dates” you would have randomly, out of the office, just to catch up with rumors and gossip when you weren’t on the same shift. And more than once, Jungkook finished the day feeling guilty for not taking the chance on you. He wasn’t sure whether you’d feel comfortable or not. He could easily be misinterpreting your too friendly behavior. Maybe you were like that with everyone you were close to -although he didn’t see you acting that way with anyone else from the company, whether it was a man or a woman.

You both were attending the annual company dinner your boss prepared at the end of the year, but even then he knew nothing would change. And chances of him leaving earlier were high. Confirming that idea when you showed up with a tight black dress that lifted higher on your thigh when you sat next to him. His hand wanted to reach to your skin, and the amount of times he had to stop himself from doing it was insane.

His mind tried to concentrate on other things, as he desperately engaged in conversations with the others, until you laid your hand on his thigh, supporting your body when you leaned closer, pressing your breasts on his arms when you tried to reply to the man who was sitting next to him. If he didn’t know you, he’d have thought you were doing it on purpose.

Well, it seemed like he didn’t know you indeed, because your intention was pretty obvious. And it might have been for a few months already. Always meeting up with him, trying to finish your hang out with a kiss even. Yet you always came back disappointed when he left after giving you a friendly hug.

You went back to your seat, earning a sigh of relief from the person on your left as he moved uncomfortably, noticing one of his hands was trying to place his pants properly, before he tried to completely hide the lower part of his body under the table.

The rest of the dinner went by as a rough challenge for him, trying to test his limits before he jumped on you in front of everyone. Although all that control would only last until you all moved your party to a club near the restaurant you were at. Having to see you dancing with random guys all night wasn’t what he was planning at all, and he blamed himself for staying longer than he was intending to only because you insisted on him going.

During one of those glances he aimed at you, he was sure he caught you looking at him over the guy’s shoulder, and he swore your eyes squinted because of the smile you were hiding when his jaw clenched.

You were playing with him that night. And that annoyed him just as much as it turned him on.

Looking around him, making sure neither of your colleagues would mind your business -either because they were already too drunk or because they were somewhere else-, he started walking in your direction.

“Y/n, I’m going home” he screamed over the music.

He didn’t have to tell you, he could’ve sent you a text as he left… Yet he walked over to you, in a little hope you’d leave with him.

You frowned your eyes, finally stepping back from the blond guy that was still having his hands on you “Already?” you frowned confused “It hasn’t even been an hour since we came”.

One hour of seeing you flirt and be surrounded by men constantly, while he stared from afar hoping he had as much confidence as they did. “I don’t feel well” he lied.

Convinced you’d just shrug your shoulders and turn again, he was surprised when you held his wrist and dragged him to the restrooms, leaving behind the man you’d been dancing with for the past fifteen minutes. His feet battled to keep up with the speed of your steps, being surprised by how you were walking that fast so neatly while wearing heels.

You entered the ladies restroom, being welcomed by a few surprised looks from the women that were retouching their makeup. He was waiting for you to speak, but you had no intentions to. You knew he was feeling fine, and what bothered him was the fact that you paid no attention to him all night. You were acting bittersweet on purpose, just to get a reaction from him. Getting some water on your hands, only making them humid enough, you spreaded the tiny drops on his forehead, drenching his locks a bit when you pushed his bangs back. Your fingers felt so good when you lowered them on his cheeks, and dangerously close to his lips.

“Feeling better?” Jungkook nodded, eyes closing under your touch “Is it the water or is it me?”.

Your question made him open his eyes wide, surprised by the suggestive tone you were using. Although he didn’t know that smirk would make it way worse. “Y/n…” he whispered. “Because if it’s me, I think there are better ways to make you feel good” your doe eyes, feeling so innocent in contrast with your voice was making it difficult for his brain to work properly.

He wasn’t sure if alcohol was speaking on your behalf, but he discarded that idea when your breath smelled fruity from the only drink you’ve gotten ever since dinner started.

This time he was the one dragging your body to one of the cubicles, pressing your body to the door he had just locked. Both of his hands on both sides of your head, as he leaned over you to know what was up with your attitude that night “You’re making it so difficult for me to hold back”, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

It was ironic he was the one saying that, when he reached out to you in the middle of the dance floor to make sure you wouldn’t leave the place with that other guy.

“Who says you should hold back?” you raised an eyebrow, getting back control on the conversation.

His neck flinched when one of your hands reached his nape, digging inside his locks, at the same time your warm breath was gently caressing his throat. His cock grew bigger inside his pants as his skin welcomed the humidity of your tongue, tracing his jaw. “I want this just as much as you do, Kook” you whispered when you reached his ear.

Your voice sent dangerous alarms into his brain, something that he wasn’t able to control before he was cupping your face in his hands to lean into a sloppy and messy kiss. Feeling the taste of your saliva, mixed with the pineapple flavor of your drink, on his tongue was driving him crazy. Your hands tugging his blue shirt, and digging under it was rotting his brain with full images of everything he wanted to do to you. You didn’t know what you started.

His tongue twirled around yours, while your lips sucked on his like your life depended on it. You both had wanted this for so long, and you were finally giving in to all your wishes.

Jungkook barely gave you time to process the kiss, before he was already attacking your neck with wet open mouth kisses. Hands sneaking down your back to squeeze your ass and keep you in place. You still had room to move though, letting the thin strips of your dress fall off your shoulders, just to get your arms out of them and be able to lower your dress, exposing your tits.

Attracted to them like a magnet, his lips closed around one of your hard nipples, while his tattooed hand pinched and pulled your other button. He kept switching, making sure he’d get enough taste of the both of them.

Even if you were drunk in pleasure and excitement, too absorbed in how your clit throbbed for attention, you went to his pants instead, unzipping it and lowering them just enough to let his hard cock jump free. His teeth digged in your sensitive button as soon as your thumb started circling around his tip, getting it wet with his own precum. His cock only escaping from your fingers momentarily when he took your panties off, and circled his wrist with them.

Jungkook made sure to get his fingers wet and ready before they slid through your folds, deviously caressing you until they reached your needy clit. He felt how tight you were when he dug them deeper down your entrance, and he could only think of how it was better than he ever had imagined. You held back your moan, finally feeling being stretched by him, your walls hugging him tight and perfectly, while your brain could only picture the way he was so deep inside you that only the character on his knuckles would be the only thing visible. “You’re so tight, baby” he whispered, slowly moving his fingers in and out.

“Just imagine how tight I’ll feel around your cock” you replied back with a smirk, hearing him groan when your fingers started working on his cock again. Both of you kept moving in sync, as if it were a little heads up for what was to come.

Jungkook started walking backwards, with his fingers still stretching your pussy as much as he was able to. He dragged you on his lap when he sat on the toilet, making you straddle him. He was eager to feel you, and it was written all over his face when you dropped his cock.

Lips parted, holding back the moan that came out as a gap when you felt full again, feeling every inch of his cock invade you and stretch you out so perfectly. Both of you groaning low when your pubes finally touched, while you gave each other time to adjust to that new sensation.

Although, not even a few seconds later, Jungkook was urging you to move, fingers digging in your flesh as he pushed you upwards. Every move of your body was making him like he was in heaven, as your insides kept hugging him. Your hands held onto his shoulders, trying to get used to that new sensation that made little stars float in front of your eyes.

You felt his hips raise, trying to get deeper into you, trying to hit that right spot that would make your knees weak and barely possible to hold back your moans. Your lower lip hid under your teeth, which were biting hard on your skin, trying to keep any moan from escaping while Jungkook kept groaning against your neck and throat. Far from making you stop, though, it only encouraged you to go faster, making the tank behind him move constantly, hitting the wall and joining the sounds of your flesh clapping against each other.

“You feel so fucking good” he said, “Way better than I could ever have imagined” his lips let out a groan, and seemed like he was more careless about being heard than you were. “Fuck, keep riding my cock that way” Jungkook kept moving his hips up against you “You like it?”.

“Fuck, yes” you finally moaned lowly, moving even faster when your pussy started clenching around his cock.

That ticklish feeling in your belly was going hard on you, just a few more moves and you’d feel it showering over you, from head to toe. “Cum, baby. Cum with me” he managed your hips, controlling your movements with both of his hands, until you both exploded together.

You hugged him tight, hiding your face in his neck, biting it hard just to keep your moan from sounding louder than it already is, when you felt that sticky liquid fill your loads just as fast.

“Fuck, baby” he sighed, trying to get his breathing back to normal “Shit” he threw his head back. “I can’t believe I’ve missed on this for so long”.

You smiled against his neck, feeling exactly the same way he was “Well, I think we should make up for the wasted time tonight”.

“Let’s get out of here”

[odigaon]

soft

summary: oc is friends with the girl of his dreams and after his friend tries to make a move, he takes her to his room and shows her what she’s been missing out on

parings: male pov x thicc! virgin! female reader

word count: 4,945

warnings: loss of virginity, creampie, oral (f. receiving)

he couldn’t help the way his eyes always seem to drift to her. the way her soft, pink lips pursed and stretched to form words, smiles, and various other expressions that he always found endearing. even when she was angry, frustrated tears pooling at her waterline and threatening to spill over as her voice grew louder and her words were coming out choppy and stuttered, as if she was trying to get every thought out at once and her poor mouth struggled to keep up. she was even precious then.

everything about her was soft. nothing on her was sharp unless you counted her tongue and the occasional eyeliner wing she would wear. her soft doe eyes becoming sultry and siren like, suggesting that she knew all of your darkest desires and would make all of them come true.

even then softness seemed to be a quality of hers. he wanted to spend the rest of his life caressing the soft curves of her body.

he knew she wasn’t innocent. far from it actually. from the elfish upward turn of her lips, to the small giggles and loud laughs that would wrack her body when someone told a dirty joke was evidence of that. she was untouched though. no one had ever lain their hands on her body to make her feel as good as she could make herself feel; as good as he could make her feel. no one had ever settled their hands across the wide expanse of her hips or gripped the backs of her thighs to push her knees up to her chest while thrusting into her. he could only imagine what soft sounds he could force out of her by taking her like that. or the pretty faces she’d make as he grazed that one spot inside her that made her see stars.

it was hard for him to be around her. every time she leaned forward to say something to someone his eyes would wander towards the soft fullness of her chest. whenever she expressed any full body emotion her breasts would softly move with her. anytime he hugged her it was pure torture. it became a challenge for him to prevent her from feeling how hard he was, especially since his cock was always so firmly pressed against her tummy.

she was so small compared to him. although her body was quite vivacious in some areas, her size was incomparable to his. his broad shoulders and sharply defined planes of his chest and abs were complimented by the taut muscles that lay underneath his skin. he was everything she wasn’t and vice versa.

pressing her body to him made him feel safe for some reason. breathing in her scent made him feel even safer. he felt like a protector. her protector. anything she could ever need or want him to be: he was always there.

he wanted to tell her how he felt, but self-doubt always made him reconsider.

“what if she doesn’t like older guys?” she’s said multiple times that she does.

“what if she doesn’t feel the same?” both of your guys’ friends have been trying to set you two up for months.

it isn’t until he witnesses one of his best friends sidling up to her during one of their movie nights does he finally snap.

the movie nights weren’t uncommon, in fact, they happened every friday night at 8pm sharp and typically lasted until the last person fell asleep. it was almost always him and her who stayed awake the longest. whispering to each other how their weeks had been, what was happening in the movie (neither one of them knew. they had both stopped paying attention two movies ago.), and the funniest jokes or pick up lines they could think of. occasionally they made it a game to see who could stay quiet the longest, slipping an airpod into an ear and frantically dancing around the living room and kitchen in aims to get the other person to laugh and (accidentally) wake up the others.

this night was supposed to be no different. popcorn had been made, the first movie of the night had been queued up for its excited audience, and everyone had found their respective places in the living room and had settled in.

everyone except her.

she had texted early during the day to say she was going to be late for their weekly movie night and was met with the childish teasing and whining from their friends. after apologizing she had promised to bring ice cream to which she was promptly forgiven and told to take all the time she needed.

he knew she’d be frigid after whatever errands she was running. it was the beginning of december and she had a tendency to get cold in the middle of summer so he had prepared the works for her: fluffy socks, sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a hoodie (one of his. he liked seeing her in them just as much as she loved wearing them.). he had even gotten her a heated blanket as an early christmas present. call him whipped, but he can’t stand seeing his girl cold.

the beeps of the keypad on the door break him from his thoughts. whipping his head to the door as it opens he’s met with possibly the cutest sight he’s ever seen.

she’s cold. even through the thick layers of clothing bundled around her body and the beanie resting atop her head he can see how badly she’s shivering. her head and arms are covered with a light dusting of snow and her nose and cheeks are dusted with a light shade of pink.

“it started snowing!” she says with a smile lighting up her face as she starts to strip off her outer layers.

“oh really? i thought you were smuggling coke and got a little on you.” one of their friends says sarcastically

her demeanor doesn’t change for a second. “aren’t you excited?! it’s so pretty outside! if i wasn’t so cold i’d go make snow angels!”

he grins at that. after years of growing up and becoming an adult, her childlike innocence and fondness for the simple things never goes away.

he pushes himself out of his designated spot on the couch and swiftly walks to her side to help her shed off the rest of her layers.

“but you are cold, pretty. and you’re not going back outside until i’m sure you’re not gonna catch a cold from being out there already.” he says very matter-of-factly.

“okay. but i have one question for you.” she gestures him closer with the frantic flapping of her hand. intrigued at her behavior he leans down and brings his ear closer to her mouth only to be asked in her somewhat sing-songy voice, “do you wanna build a snowman?”

he leans away from her to get a good look at her face and notices that even though her expression is full of wonder and hopefulness, she is being totally serious with her request.

his laugh comes out more like a scoff, but he acquiesces, “of course i’ll build a snowman with you. but first, we’re getting you changed into some warmer clothes.”

“yay! thank you, thank you, thank you bub!” she exclaims as she throws her arms around him and gives him a small kiss on the cheek. as she scurries off to his room to go change he’s left standing there with his heart fluttering in his chest before he snaps himself out of it and goes to make her a cup of hot chocolate.

•••

this was not the sight he wanted to see.

after making her hot chocolate, he walked back to the living room fully expecting their usual seats on the couch to be empty. instead, he wanders in on his best friend with his girl in their seats. he’s way too close for his liking. her legs are slung over his lap and his arm around her lower back nearly make him drop the steaming mugs in his hand. the stupid fucking smile on his friend’s face while he looks at her with stars in his eyes. she doesn’t even realize the way people look at her. the way she brings so much joy and happiness to people. he loves that about her, but it makes him fucking sick when other people look at her the way only he should. and he tells himself he’s not possessive.

he quickly masks his anger and the shaking of his hands and walks over to where they’re sitting.

“here pretty. made something to keep you warm.”

“hot chocolate! bubs you shouldn’t have!”

“don’t worry about it. can’t let my girl be cold can i?”

“thank you bubs.” she says softly. her shy giggles set him at ease and slightly release some of the tension form her shoulders.

his eyes lock with his friend’s and he hopes and prays his silent warning was received: keep your hands to yourself.

•••

fifteen minutes into the movie and he’s ready to launch himself through the air and strangle his friend. not only did he not receive the silent warning, no, no, no, his friend has taken it upon himself to scoot her further onto his lap and into his hold.

he can’t hold any of it against her. she loves skinship and takes any opportunity she can to be as physically close to people as possible.

her enraptured state in the movie makes her oblivious to most of what’s going on around her: including one of his friend’s arms wrapped around her waist while his other hand is gently moving across her arm.

he swears to god that he sees red.

•••

before he knows it the first movie is over and everyone decides it’s time for a bathroom break.

when his friend gently squeezes her sides in a silent plea for her to get up so he can use the restroom, he thanks his lucky stars and practically bolts over to take his seat when he’s out of sight.

“jesus christ okay i wasn’t expecting that.”

“we always sit together on movie nights. it’s our tradition.” he huffs out unconvincingly.

“uh huh. and it had nothing to do with the way your best friend had me sitting on his lap?”

“oh shit”, he thinks “was i really not that subtle?”

“if you wanted to sit together i could’ve sat with you over there!”

his head falls forward into her shoulder as he releases an embarrassed groan.

“i’m sorry if i seemed like an asshole. i just - “

he can’t get himself to say it. even when she’s looking at him with those soft, hopeful of hers, he can barely look her in the eye and tell her how much she means to him.

“do you wanna go up to your room and talk for a bit? i’m kinda movied out.”

he brightens up a little at her suggestion, and instead of giving her a verbal answer, he swiftly stands up, takes her hand in his and walks her to his room.

•••

“…and then my pants got snagged on an uncovered nail and my whole ass was nearly revealed to the world and you’re not paying attention.”

oh my god she just caught me staring at her lips

“what are you talking about? of course i was listening to you!”

“oh you were, were you? do me a favor and give me the short version of the story i just told you.”

“um it was something about your ass right?” he shyly utters

“of course that’s the only thing you remember. c’mon man! you threw a tantrum because of the seating situation and now that we’re alone and can talk all we want you’re not even paying attention to me! is there something on your mind?” she says while lightly grasping his hands.

god if you only knew what things were going through his mind right now. sure he was distracted, but he was definitely paying attention to you.

“bubs?”

“i’m sorry, pretty. i just have a lot weighing on me right now and i guess i just got distracted.”

“no don’t be sorry! i’ve talking about how clumsy i am this whole time and you have more important things going on. tell me what’s wrong.”

he’s sweating. that much he knows. there’s no way you don’t see his panicked expression or the sweat gathering on his brow.

“i don’t wanna bore you with the details, princess.”

wow that was a first. princess? what the hell were you thinking? wait a minute. is she blushing?

“nothing you talk about could ever bore me. unless you just don’t feel comfortable telling me?”

noticing the slight hurt on her face, his mouth decides to disconnect from his brain and he does the one thing he didn’t think he would ever do with her.

he kisses her.

the kiss isn’t passionate. it isn’t one you see in romance movies, ones that lovers will share together in the rain. or one of the top ten kisses of all time. it’s simple. it only lasts about three seconds. three seconds too long and too short for him.

in those three seconds he realizes that he’s in love with her. but in those same three seconds he realizes one other thing: she’s not kissing him back.

he breaks away from her using every ounce of willpower he has in his body. before he knows it he’s apologizing to her repeatedly.

“oh my god i am so so sorry. i don’t know what came over me. are you alright?”

her silence makes his skin crawl. she hasn’t said a word but she’s continuing to stare right at him.

thoughts of their friendship ending pass through his mind and it makes him sick to his stomach.

this whole interaction probably only takes about a minute, he guesses. but to him, it feels like the longest minute of his entire existence.

he’s in the middle of contemplating where the nearest cliff is that he can go chuck himself off of when he realizes a small finger is looped around the necklace he currently has on. looking up from it, he observes how her tongue peeks out to briefly wet her lips and how her gaze wanders from his eyes down towards his lips. after three quick glances between his eyes and lips, she pulls him forward using her leverage on his necklace and crashes her lips into his.

there’s no battle for dominance, just two people frantically trying to make up for lost time.

she pulls away after a few minutes, breathing heavily.

“why the fuck did it take you so long to do that?” she exasperatedly sighs out

he fumbles with his words, “w-what do you mean?”

“c’mon. you’re telling me that you don’t like me?”

the smirk on her lips makes him want to kiss her to get rid of it. is she really teasing him right now?

“i mean i um. like yeah i think that uh.”

why the fuck can he not form a coherent sentence?

“well i mean i guess if you don’t i’ll just go back downstairs and keep watching movies.”

flashes of his friend kissing her the way he just did along with other less family friendly images fly through his mind and it’s these particular thoughts light a fire underneath him.

steeling his nerves, his hands grasp her hips firmly and he drags her up onto his lap. the noise she lets out is cute, but he isn’t preoccupied with that right now. his hand travels up her waist, up her neck and eventually lands on the side of her face.

“do not act like you’d rather be anywhere but right here.”

and with that, he pulls her in again. this time, however, there’s no frantic urgency in his kisses. he’s planing on taking his time with her. and he wants everyone to hear.

the small squeaks and moans she lets out while he has her in his hold are music to his ears and apparently his cock too. he doesn’t think she realizes what her hands and body are currently doing: desperately grasping at his hair like it’s a lifeline and grinding her hips down into his in slow movements.

it all feels like a dream to him, but he knows how real it is. his mind would never be able to conjure up this scenario. he could never imagine how it really felt to have her like this or what she would sound like with him.

lying down on his back and gently turning so he could be on top of her was probably the best idea he could’ve had. pulling away from her allows him to see how hard her chest is heaving. how her eyes have darkened in lust.

“are you okay with this? we don’t have to go any farther if you don’t feel comfortable.” he whispers out

“i’m um. it’s okay. we can keep going going, but uh. i’m a virgin.”

he laughs lightly at that.

“i know that already silly girl. you’ve told me before, remember?”

he didn’t think it was possible but her face gets even redder than it was before.

“oh. right. sorry.”

“don’t be sorry, pretty. just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

she nods her head silently in response, but he needs to hear her.

“words, pretty. i wanna hear you tell me all the things you want me to do to you.”

•••

he begins by giving her soft kisses. starting at her mouth and making his way down her neck; stopping every few seconds to leave purple and pink blossoms across her skin that he knows will look so pretty on her in the morning. he grasps the hem of her (his) hoodie and t-shirt. looking up to her eyes for confirmation, she smiles and whispers out “it’s okay. you can take it off.”

his lips turn upward at that. he loves her being vocal with him. now he wants to hear more.

he lifts the offending material up and away from her body. as soon as the sleeves are free he tosses them somewhere off behind him. looking down at her like this is a sight he hopes he’ll never forget. she’s only wearing a simple sports bra, but with their movements, her breasts have shifted and are halfway out of the top. he tries not to stare, but the smirk on her face tells him that she caught him already.

“you like what you see or something?”

“shut up.”

with that short remark, he leans down and starts peppering kisses down her neck once more. he places a couple of kisses to the top of breasts and then continues down her tummy; all the way to the waistband of her pants. hearing her breathing quickly leads him to look up to her face once more.

“everything alright?”

“fuck. please just get on with it already.”

damn. he’s never heard her talk like that before.

“someone’s impatient.” he chuckles out.

“eager. i wanna feel you.” she says while reaching out for him.

holy hell. where did that come from?

“slow and steady wins the race, baby. i wanna take my time with you. and you are going to lay back and take it all like a good girl. right?”

he swears her eyes roll to the back of her head. he didn’t realize talking like that would provoke such a reaction.

he curls his fingers into her waistband after tapping her on the thigh to signal her to lift her hips.

“is this okay?”

“yes, fuck just please take them off and stop teasing me so much. i can’t take it anymore,” she sobs out.

“teasing? baby i’ve barely begun to tease you.”

he begins pulling down her pants, but makes sure that her underwear stay on. he can’t reveal what he’s worked so hard for, not yet. after he strips her of the sweats, he haphazardly throws the material behind him, already long forgotten.

and there she is in all her half-naked glory. he swears the sight is enough to have him cumming i’m no time. he holds off though. no way is he going to cut this any shorter than it needs to be.

her eyes wander over him, but make sure to follow every calculated movement he makes. the heaving of her chest leads him to look at her breasts again. he trails his fingers up her thigh, hip, side, and land at the band surrounding her torso.

“can i take it off?”

the frantic nodding of her head paired with the quiet “yes” is all the confirmation he needs.

“arms up.”

once more, he gingerly lifts the garment off her and flings it out of sight.

fuck.

what has he gotten himself into?

he will never be the same ever again.

this woman in front of him is like a visage of aphrodite.

her nipples have started to pebble in the slight chill of the air in his room and god do they look like they’d fit perfectly in his mouth.

leaning down, he begins to press kisses to her lips all while letting his hands trail over her breasts. taking them into his hands, he begins by massaging them and gently pinching and pulling at her nipples. letting his lips wander, he laves kisses down the valley of her breasts and expanse of them before lightly leaving kisses on her right nipple before taking it into his mouth. he lets his tongue drag across it before he applies light suction. he lets his eyes close a minute. to revel in the feeling before opening them again to find her staring at him with big doe eyes. he smirks a little at that and takes his time in making her feel good. he pulls away with a light pop before giving the same attention to the other.

he begins to trail his lips downward towards the waistline of her underwear. he lets her watch him pause, hovering over her covered heat before licking a stripe upwards outside her underwear. he hears her let out a quiet moan and knows he must be doing something right. he settles in between her thighs and grips them tightly in his palms. he starts grinding into the bed all while licking at her through her under wear, soaking the material, and nuzzling his nose into her clit. everything gets to be too much for him and before he knows it he’s sitting up and stripping her underwear down her legs. spreading her legs once again he comes face to face with her newly uncovered pussy and groan out loud. he’s been waiting so long for this and has to stop himself from burying his face between her legs before he’s fully taken it in. she’s so pink and wet. it makes his cock twitch in his pants to think he’s about to taste her properly for the first time.

darting his tongue out, he slowly trails upwards from her soaked entrance to her clit and the both of them moan. loudly. his hips grind into the bed at her noises before he starts to practically make out with her pussy. the taste of her makes him groan continuously while he alternates between licking at her entrance and clit to suckling on both as well. he can tell that she’s already getting close after a few minutes of him sucking more harshly on her clit.

“are you gonna cum? cum for me baby. please. wanna feel you cum all over my face.”

she can’t get any words out, but she nods frantically. he smirks against her pussy again begins to suck more vigorously on her clit. her hips start to grind against his face.

“that’s it baby. use me. use my face to get yourself off.”

her hands thread through his hair and she lets out louder moans. he secretly hopes that his friend can hear how good he’s making her feel. her moans increase in volume until she’s nearly screaming and she cums with tremors wracking her body.

“that’s a good girl. feels so good to finally cum, yeah?”

she’s trembling so hard from the after shocks of the mind-blowing orgasm he just gave her that he almost feels bad for pushing his middle finger into her entrance slowly.

“hnng, oh fuck!”

he pushes in a little deeper to let her get used to it before he pushes another one in. after all, he has to stretch her out for his cock.

her walls are fluttering around his fingers like butterfly wings. the tightness of her is enough to make him cum untouched, but he holds out once again. he begins to slowly pump them in and out of her to prep her walls for him. her moaning starts to pick up again before she whispers out a quiet “faster!” and his fingers start to pick up the pace. her hips begin to grind down into his hand as he watches her lustful eyes. he is intoxicated by her. everything little movement. every little sound has him yearning for her. she whines out a quiet “i’m cumming!” before she’s releasing all over his hand. he keeps postponing his finger in and out of her to draw out her orgasm. her whines, like chopped little hiccups, flow out of her like water. she can’t get any words out but he knows she’s on the verge of cumming again with the way her walls contract around his fingers.

“that’s it baby girl. let go. i got you, yeah?” he whispers out.

with a long drawn out whine she orgasms again. he slows down his fingers before gently pulling them out, earning a small wince from her as well as her walls fluttering at the emptiness. as he places his fingers in his mouth to clean them off, her eyes dazedly watch him as she tries to reach out for his other hand. he watches her grab his fingers, lick her lips, then put them to her mouth. he sucks his fingers clean before puling them out of his mouth and pushing his other fingers into hers. she swirls her tongue around his fingers as if they were his cock and he feels himself twitch in his pants. he lets her have her fun for a few minutes before pulling them out and sliding off the bed to rid himself of his pants and boxers.

he uses his fingers that were just in her mouth to pull his cock out and begin pumping it slowly. her eyes are locked on to his cock and hand that that’s jerking himself off. her chest is absolutely heaving with the after effects of her orgasms he so generously gave her.

“you ready baby? you ready for my cock?” he asks her.

“yes please.” she answers quietly, eyes never leaving him.

he clambers back onto the bed before lining up with her entrance.

“are you okay? are you sure you want to do this?”

all she does is smile at him before pulling him into a sweet kiss. that’s all the confirmation he needs. he prepares himself and slides in and god does he think he dies a little inside.

she’s so tight and wet that he has to remind himself that this is her first time and that he can’t be too rough with his girl.

her wince is enough to pull him from his thoughts.

“do you feel alright baby?”

she nods slowly, “just. wow. you’re big.”

his pride inflates a little before he’s asking her if it’s okay for him to move and she once again tells him she’s okay. he pulls out a little and thrusts back into her. he keeps going at a snails pace before her pussy starts quivering around him again and he speeds up a little. her little moans start to bounce off the walls as he gives her the best first time of her life.

“i-i. i think i’m gonna cum again.” she whispers out.

he takes this as a sign to keep doing what he was doing to get her to her peak. with a slight change in angle, he’s got her right where he wants her. he’s grinding right into her g spot and before he knows it she’s actually managing to cum all over him again. her pussy flutters around him and he takes this as his cue to ask her where she wants him to cum.

“anywhere you want.”

he groans out loud before pistoning his hips faster into her. he’s going to cum inside her. he can’t resist her when she’s like this, all spread out in front of him. his hips pound into her harshly before he’s groaning loudly and releasing into her with a chorus of thank you’s. his head drops into the crook of her neck, leaving kisses there while his hips continue to softly thrust in and out of her.

“was that okay, baby?”

all she does is giggle and leaves a little kiss on the side of his face.

“more than okay. it was better than i could’ve asked for.”

“you deserve it more than anything.”

she just laughs again before holding him tightly to her chest.

“thank you. really. for everything.”

he flips them over to where she’s laying on his chest.

“i love you.” he whispers out

“i love you more.” she whispers back

and just like that, they fall asleep in each others arms to the beating of each others hearts.

[zelkams-art]

camera, cut!

[mrworldwideshoulders]

can’t take my eyes off of you || reader x kth

Pairing: reader x KTH Word count: 5.1k Rating: M / R (18+) Genre: one night stand, smut, pinch of fluff Summary: It was supposed to be a girls’ night out. So what are you doing here by yourself, and why has the guy across the bar set his smoldering gaze on you of all people? Inspired by Runaway Baby - Bruno Mars.  Warnings: alcohol consumption, penetrative sex (protected of course), orgasms, big dicc!tae (my god), reader is a blushing mess (and so am I jfc) A/N: this took forever for some reason (even though it was totally supposed to come out sooner T_T) but it’s finally here (and just in time)! first attempt at real smut so this is probably a mess but enjoy anyway >.< as always beta'd and bannered by the amazing april (@onmypillow-onmytable). thx! ly - robyn P.S. I do not own BTS or their likenesses, nor do I own the music of Bruno Mars (lol), they simply inspire me. 

inspo playlist here

part of the doo-wops, hooligans, and unorthodox magic collection (masterlist)

“Should we take this somewhere more…private?” That deep, velvety-smooth voice again, a whisper that brushes lightly against your ear. 

You awaken with a start, eyes roving around, attempting to make sense of your surroundings. That is definitely not the ceiling of your apartment above you. Everything is unfamiliar: everything from the sheets to the art on the walls to the handsome stranger in bed next to you. He’s asleep, a flop of messy hair sweeping over his delicate, almond-shaped eyes. His arms wrap around you, as if he’s hugging a pillow to his chest – as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear. You only have to look at him to remember that it was his voice in your head. Who is he? And how did you get here? Memories of what must have happened last night flood into your brain, though somewhat obscured by the fog that comes with heavy drinking and other bad decisions. 

The bar. You remember getting to the bar. What happened afterwards? You were supposed to meet your best friend Hyejin, but she cancelled on you at the last minute, something about how her younger brother was visiting on surprise leave from the military. "I'm sorry, y/n!" she'd wailed into the phone. "I had no idea Jun was going to pull something like this. I was literally walking out the door when he showed up, and he's only in the city this weekend, so our parents will kill me if I don't take him out to dinner at least once." 

You sigh, only slightly annoyed. "It's fine, Hyejin. He's your brother. I understand." 

"Not that I don't appreciate the thought, but aish, I could just kill him sometimes. Will you be all right by yourself?"

You glance around the bar, which is starting to get noisier as more people fill in. "I'll be fine. I'll probably just have one drink and then go home. Since I’m already here."

Hyejin blows you a raspberry. "Boring! And we were going to get you laid tonight, too. Finally break that dry spell of yours. All because my brother decides he just has to surprise me this weekend."

"Jin!" you hiss, cheeks flaming. You’ve never been the casual hookup-one night stand type, and she knows that. Why is she so hellbent on getting you laid?

"It's true!" she insists. "It’s been months since you’ve gotten any. Y/n, please promise me that you won't just have one drink and go home. Have two drinks. Three, even. Give excitement a chance to unfold. Maybe get yourself something – or someone – special?" You can almost picture her waggling her eyebrows on the other end of the phone. 

You roll your eyes. “I’m hanging up on you.” 

“Okay, okay. Promise you’ll tell me all the gory details at lunch tomorrow?”

“I doubt they will be in any way gory or interesting, but fine. I’m really hanging up on you now, Jin. Have fun with your brother.” 

“Be safe, y/n. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and don’t forget to use protection!” You can hear the mischievous grin in her voice.

You let out a disgusted groan, and hang up without another word, sighing as you stare down into your nearly empty cosmopolitan. Hyejin is right. It's been what, almost six months since you found your boyfriend in your bed with another woman? You still miss the sheets you’d had to throw out after you kicked him out of your apartment. The whole experience was enough to put you off dating permanently – but you can’t deny you have your own needs. You’re a grown woman, after all, and there’s only so much your vibrator can do for you. You finish off the last of your cocktail and order another, fully intending to leave once it’s gone. There will be other nights, and other men, and you’d much rather do this when Hyejin is around to keep you from embarrassing yourself too much. 

The bartender sets a fresh glass down in front of you. “Compliments of the gentleman over there.” He nods toward the end of the bar, where what may very well be the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on is sitting. Dark hair falls in a swoop over one eye, and his shirtsleeves are rolled up to reveal a set of toned forearms. An expensive-looking watch rests on one wrist, completing the full image. He nods at you, winks, and raises his glass of red wine. You raise your own in return. 

First and last time that’ll ever happen, you think to yourself, sipping on your drink. The clamor of the bar builds, and you sit there alone, not quite sure what to do with yourself. You tug at the hemline of your dress: short, spaghetti strapped, uncomfortable, thinking of the sweatpants you’re going to change into immediately upon returning home, the shows from this week that you need to catch up on, and then maybe you’ll fall into bed at a reasonable hour, waking up just early enough to squeeze in a workout and a shower before you have to meet Hyejin for lunch and tell her all of the non-details of your non-adventurous evening. Boring, routine, and comfortable. A glance tells you the man at the end of the bar is still staring at you. You try to ignore him, but his eyes are still laser-focused on you. You shift uncomfortably.

Just who does this guy think he is?

You down the last of your cosmo and vacate your stool, making sure not to wobble in your heels as you march toward him. He watches you approach with what seems to be great interest. "You," you demand, pointing a finger at him. "Why do you keep staring at me?"

He holds your gaze, almost defiantly. He doesn’t even flinch at your accusing finger. "I like looking at pretty things," he says, his mouth quirking up at the corners in a smirk. "Can you blame me?"

You're not sure whether to feel flattered or creeped out, but your mouth speaks for you before you can even think about it. "What, so I'm a thing now?"

"Is that so bad?" he questions. "To be the object of someone's admiration?" His eyes darken as they look you up and down. 

You feel bare. Exposed. Like he's seen something about you that you've never even seen yourself. “What if I don’t want to be an object?” you challenge. ”What then?” 

“Hm. I don’t know,” he says. He seems amused. “I’m sure we could figure something else out.” 

“Who are you, anyway?” you ask, narrowing your eyes. 

"I'm Taehyung." The name rolls off his tongue. "But you can call me Tae. Yours?"

You hesitate. "Buy me another drink and maybe I'll tell you," you say finally. 

Taehyung smiles. Challenge accepted. He motions the bartender over, who looks between both of you questioningly. "You heard her," he says. "Whatever she's having."

You slide onto the barstool next to him, and the bartender sets another cocktail in front of you. "So," you start. "Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to stare at people?"

"They have. It's never stopped me before, though." Taehyung takes a sip of his wine. “You still haven’t told me your name, by the way.” 

“Y/n,” you say after a momentary pause, debating whether or not you should give him a fake one. “It’s y/n.” 

“Y/n,” he repeats. Your name sounds different when he says it. “A pleasure.” 

Your cheeks warm, though you’re not sure if it’s the liquor or his gaze. "What brings you out by yourself tonight, then?" you ask. “Surely someone like you has plenty of places he could be on a Friday night, instead of sitting by himself in a bar, staring at unsuspecting women.” Handsome. Seemingly well-rounded. Fairly charming. 

"Hmm,” he muses. “I’m an artist of sorts, but I’m feeling a little…blocked at the moment, so I guess you could say I'm looking for inspiration." 

“You’re an artist?” you say. “I never would have expected that.” A closer glance at his hands reveals a few stray flecks of paint around his nails.

“I get that a lot.” He chuckles. “I guess I don’t really look the part, do I?” The corners of his eyes crinkle with the boxy smile that emerges from his laugh. 

“Well,” you say, resting your chin on your palm. “Mr. Artiste. How’s the search for inspiration going?” 

"Between you and me," he says, turning to you, one elbow leaned against the bar, "I'd say it's looking fairly promising. But…” Taehyung looks you straight in the eyes. “I could ask the same of you. Y/n, what’s a beautiful woman like yourself doing alone at the bar on a night like this?”

“You flatter me.”

“It’s true.” He shrugs. "Anyone can see that you're positively captivating."

Your ex never would have told you anything like that, not in the months before things ended. Your ears tingle. "At least someone thinks so." 

“Why do you say that?” he asks.

“Where do I start?” You stare down into your glass, running a finger around the rim. You shake your head. “Ah, don’t listen to me. I don’t want to bore you with complaining about my asshole ex.” 

“Whoever he is, or was,” says Taehyung, gently turning your head to look at him, “it’s his loss. He has no idea what he’s missing out on.” 

"You just met me five minutes ago," you say. "How could you possibly know that?"

"Well," he says, the corner of his mouth twitching, "I get the feeling I'm about to find out."

Oh my god. Oh. My. God. You take a deep breath in an attempt to keep yourself from panicking. What did you do last night? What are you supposed to do now? Your memories are still blurry, but one thing is for certain: you’ve got to get out of here before he notices you’re gone. Hoping he doesn’t wake up, you extricate yourself gingerly from his grip and edge gently to the side of the bed, holding one of the blankets to your chest while you scan the floor for your clothes. As you’re about to stand up, a hand suddenly locks around your wrist in a firm grasp. You look over your shoulder. Taehyung’s eyes are open now, his gaze fixed on you. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he demands. His voice stops you in your tracks. Even half-asleep he sounds like the type of person who’s used to getting what he wants. "Did you think I wouldn't notice you trying to disappear on me?"

“I was just…” You clear your throat. Your cheeks burn. What exactly are you planning on telling him? Leaving? Looking for the bathroom? Going on a coffee run and never coming back? You can’t make yourself finish the sentence. It's as if his gaze has caused your brain to short-circuit.

Taehyung sits up, the bedsheet draped tantalizingly low across his hips, the firm planes of his lower abdomen taking your mind somewhere it shouldn’t. “Don’t tell me you’re getting shy on me now.” He dips his head at the blanket covering your breasts. “Especially not after everything you begged me to do to you last night.” He smirks.

Your face flames even hotter. “Um – I…I don’t —” 

“You don’t remember?” he says. “Hm. And what should we do about that?” An arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back toward him. “Should I give you a refresher?” he whispers into your ear. “I’m ready whenever.” 

“I can tell,” you say breathlessly. You can feel him pressing against you – every inch of him. 

Taehyung kisses you, just behind your ear, letting his teeth graze the outside of it, planting a trail of blooming kisses down your neck and across your shoulder. “Anything?” His voice is low and dark, filled with lust. “Or should I continue?” 

“It’s coming back to me,” you exhale. Don’t stop. Please.

The brick wall outside scrapes against your shoulder blades, the cold night air making you shiver slightly. His lips are on yours, on your neck, trailing down across your bare collarbone, each one burning more than the next until you’re completely aflame. The front of his shirt is clenched in your fists, the only thing keeping you from sliding down to the pavement. But he pulls away, and you let out a frustrated huff. A crowd of people leaving the bar walks past, chattering loudly, and Taehyung’s hand is suddenly on the wall next to your head, his arm out to shield you from anyone’s view. He’s biting his lower lip, dark eyes glinting. “You have no idea how much I want to just take you right here, right up against this wall.”

“So do it then,” you breathe. "Take me. Fuck me right here in this alley.” You don’t know what you’re saying. All you know is that you want his hands back on you, right now, so you guide them toward your waist. 

“So eager.” He smiles. “But not here. I want to be the only one who hears you scream tonight.” Taehyung’s voice lowers to a whisper as he leans in. “Should we take this somewhere more…private?” He tilts your chin up to look him in the eye. “Last chance to say no.” 

“Is there a reason I should?” You look up at him through your lashes. 

“Not in my opinion.” Taehyung smirks. “So what’s it going to be?”

You're barely inside the door of his apartment before his hands are on you again, fumbling for the zipper of your dress, eventually giving up and yanking the whole thing over your head. "Hey, be careful," you giggle between kisses, working at unbuttoning his shirt. "That dress was expensive."

"I'll buy you a new one," he says, flinging it away so you don't see where it lands, nimble fingers moving to unhook your bra, an uncomfortable strapless push-up you only ever wear to make your tits look good. “I’ll buy you ten new ones." He tosses the bra over his shoulder as well. "God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He hoists you up, palming your ass with those massive hands of his, letting your legs wrap around his waist. You buck against him, needing the friction to lessen the ache between your legs. “Fuck, y/n,” he growls. “I can’t control myself around you.” 

“I don’t care,” you say, gasping as he presses you up against the wall. “I don’t fucking care.” You’re moving again, down a hall to another room. The bedroom. 

Taehyung tosses you down roughly on the bed. He looms over you, his eyes nearly black with desire. “Stunning,” he says. “Absolutely stunning. Now that I’ve got you all to myself…I might never let you go. I’m going to ruin you, y/n.” He snaps the waistband of your underwear. “Are you all right with that?” 

“Why are you still talking?” You pull him down toward you and kiss him, pushing the unbuttoned shirt all the way off his shoulders. “Go ahead and do it already. Ruin me. I’m all yours.” 

"That's right," he says, dropping another kiss on your lips. "You're all mine, baby. Just for me.” His lips trail down, a waterfall of kisses running through the valley between your breasts, down your stomach, stopping just above your hips, where he deftly slides off your underwear and tosses them aside. “Are you ready?”

You nod wordlessly. “I’m ready.”

“Good.” He’s gorgeous, standing there in the moonlight. He leans over you, reaching for something in the bedside table, enveloping you in his scent: sandalwood and bergamot, hints of pine. You hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper. 

“Wait.” You stop him before he can put it on. “Let me. Please, Tae. I want to.”

“You want to touch me?” Taehyung smirks. “Even better.” He hands you the unwrapped condom. “I’ll let you do the honors.” 

You draw in a breath and roll the condom up his cock: thick, heavy, already wet with precum. It’s bigger than you imagined, especially in your hands – in fact, massive might be a better word for it.

He groans as you move slowly up the shaft. “Y/n…” 

“What?” you tease. “Something wrong?”

“It’s not every day I have your pretty little hands wrapped around my cock.” He grins. “I’m just enjoying the ride.” 

"Oh, these hands?" you ask innocently, running a finger down his length.

"Fuck," he exhales. He leans down, bringing his face inches away from yours. “You trying to kill me?” God, this man knows how to use his mouth. And his fingers. He traces one long index finger down your drenched center, teasing at your entrance. “So wet for me already,” Taehyung marvels. “It won’t be long now.” 

“Tae…” you whine, biting your lower lip.

“Say please.” 

You inhale sharply. “Please.” 

“Good girl.” He slips another finger inside you, circling your clit. It’s so swollen and sensitive he barely has to touch it before you let out a soft moan. "Talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me what you need." 

"I need you," you gasp. "Need you inside me. Right now."

Taehyung gently touches your face. “Not yet, baby,” he coaxes. “Wait for me. Just a little while longer.” He settles himself between your legs, the tip of his cock pressing against your core. You close your eyes, sucking in your bottom lip, gasping slightly as he slips inside, feeling yourself stretching to accommodate him, shifting your pelvis to take on even more. You feel full. Warm. Good. It feels good. 

“Fuck,” you breathe. He’s huge. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Can I move?” 

You nod earnestly. “Move, Tae. For the love of god, fucking move.” 

He rocks into you, slowly at first, then faster. “God, you feel amazing. How is it possible that you’re so amazing?” 

“Show me,” you demand. “Show me how good I make you feel.” 

“Whatever you want, baby. I’ll give it to you.”

“Harder,” you pant. “I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t see straight. I want to see stars. Constellations. The whole damn solar system.”

“Happy to oblige.” Taehyung smiles. His thrusts intensify, leaving you teetering on the edge, fists clenching the sheets underneath you. You cry out, the pressure of your impending orgasm nearly too much to bear. He touches your cheek. “Wait for me,” he commands. “Almost there. Almost.” 

“I can’t,” you whimper. “I’m going to –” 

He silences you by touching a finger to your lips. “Shh,” he whispers.

That moment seems to last forever, building, building – until finally, the dam bursts. Pure, white hot adrenaline, the passion, the desire, all setting off fireworks behind your eyes. Your nails dig into his back as you hang on, seemingly for dear life. He comes undone with a groan, spilling himself inside of you as the force of your climax hits you like a tidal wave. 

He collapses onto the mattress, panting slightly, and presses a kiss to the side of your forehead. “Fuck. That was…”

“Really something,” you finish. Your heart is still racing. 

“You could say that.” Taehyung chuckles. 

“I haven’t come that hard since…ever.” 

“Never?” He turns his head to look at you, one eyebrow raised. 

You think back. “Maybe once. But it’s been a really long time.” 

“So definitely better than your ex?” he teases. “I’ll take it.” 

“That’s it? You’re easily satisfied.” 

His arm snakes around your waist, pulling you toward him. “No. I’m not. Not usually. So you’d better be careful or…”

“Or what?” 

Taehyung smiles, eyes closed, almost half asleep already. “Hmm.” He hums gently. “I just might fall in love with you.” 

“So,” he says, his low voice bringing you back to the present. “Where were you running off to in such a hurry just now?” 

“Uh…” What was it you were about to do? You were looking for something. Clothes. You were looking for your clothes. “My dress. I need my dress.”

“Oh, that,” Taehyung says dismissively. “I think we left it somewhere near the kitchen. Along with, well…” He peers around at your face, grinning. “Everything else.” He’s still pressed up against you. 

Your senses come rushing back, and you pull away. “Look,” you babble. “I don’t normally do this kind of thing, and last night was…great, but —”

“I’d like to think it was more than just great,” he shrugs. “Phenomenal. Earth-shattering. Damn near amazing. But call it what you like.” 

“I’ve really got to go,” you blurt. “I have an…engagement.” Lunch. With Hyejin. Right. What time is it, anyway? 

“Ah.” If he’s disappointed, he doesn’t show it. “Of course. Don’t let me stop you.” Taehyung cocks an eyebrow wolfishly. “Unless you’d like me to.”  

"Uh, no. That’s all right." How does he do that? How does he know how to fluster you with a single look? You keep the blanket wrapped around you while you pad into the kitchen, where you find your dress in a mound on the floor. Wrinkled. Of course. You sigh and pick it up. The daylight allows you a better look at the rest of his apartment, one that you didn't get the night before. The front room is high-ceilinged, exposed brick and tall windows overlooking the street below. Your eyes linger on the canvases leaned up against one wall, the easel with the cloth-covered painting on top of it. Or you would assume there's a painting under there; you can't exactly see it, but it would only make sense. "So he is actually an artist," you say to yourself. 

"Of course I am," he says, appearing behind you out of nowhere. "Not exactly the kind of thing I’d lie about." 

You whip around to find him standing there, clad only in boxers and an amused expression. "I don't know. You could have just told me that to make yourself seem more interesting. You wouldn't be the first guy to do it. Women love a man with depth."

"So did it work, then?" He presses his lips together, obviously trying to hide a smile. "Do you think I'm interesting?" 

"Hm." You smile and look down. "Not sure yet. I'll let you know." 

"Please. By all means."

You seem to remember there was something else you were supposed to be doing. "Uh…bathroom?"

"Down there." He points you back in the direction of the bedroom. 

"Thanks." You gather up your things into a pile and shut the door after you, letting out a breath as you lean against it. You dress quickly and fix your hair as much as you can with the comb you keep in your purse, splash some water on your flushed cheeks, then head back into the kitchen. He’s there at the island, scribbling something on a piece of paper. “What’s that?” you say as you approach, still fiddling with the back zipper on your dress that seems to have jammed itself on its way off last night. 

“My number. I realized I didn’t give it to you last night.” He smirks, pushing it toward you. “Just in case you need me.” 

God, he's cocky. You'd be lying if you said you weren't a little into it. “Who says I'll need you?” That’s what you say – but you tuck it into your bag anyway. 

“If you change your mind. Here, let me.” Taehyung gets the zipper unstuck and finishes zipping up the back of your dress. He presses a final kiss lightly against the shell of your ear. “You should go. You have your engagement, don’t you? Wouldn’t want you to be late.” 

"Are you rushing me out?" you say, glancing over your shoulder.

"Oh, you can stay as long as you like," he says. “Just trying to be considerate of your time.” 

"I appreciate that." Suddenly you don't want to go. You’d rather stay here, in bed, in his arms. But that’s not what that is. You don’t know what this is, but you know it’s not how this kind of thing works. You pick up your shoes and walk toward the door. He follows closely behind you. You hesitate, turning back toward him. “I guess this is it, then?” you say. 

“I suppose it is,” he says. 

“Well…thanks,” you say, unsure what to say next. “I had a good time.” You recall the stiff, sore feeling between your legs and sigh internally. You’re going to be feeling this for the next day or two – but regret doesn’t even begin to cross your mind. 

“Until the next one?” He’s still smirking. 

Next time? “Who says there’s going to be a next time?” You cross your arms and look up at him. 

“Just wishful thinking. I would like to see you again, but we can discuss that when the time comes.” He smiles down at you. “Enjoy the rest of your weekend, y/n.” 

Wishful thinking indeed.

You hurry home with just enough time to take a quick shower before you have to go and meet Hyejin for lunch. Your mind wanders to Taehyung several times while you’re waiting at the restaurant: the way his hair fell across his eyes, that squinting, boxy smile of his, his hands, exploring every inch of your body. The way it felt when he—

“Y/n? Y/n, hello? Are you there?” Hyejin is looking at you pointedly. 

You jump. “Yeah. Sorry. My brain stopped working for a minute. Were you saying something?” 

“What happened last night?" Her eyes narrow. "Please tell me you didn’t just have two drinks and go home. Did something happen?” Hyejin raises an eyebrow. 

You consider telling her about Taehyung, but you’re not sure if you could do him justice. “Nothing happened, Jin. And that’s exactly what I did. Two drinks, went home, fell asleep watching Bridgerton.” You redirect your focus to your lunch, the smell of which makes you a touch nauseous.

She crosses her arms and stares you down. “I don’t believe you. You definitely had more than two drinks. You’ve got that look in your eyes that you get when you’re hungover. I’d know it anywhere.” She squints at your right shoulder, right in the crook of your neck and gasps. “Y/n! Is that a hickey?” 

You nearly choke on your water. Shit. How could you have not noticed that? You tug at the neck of your sweater. “Not so loud! I don’t need the entire restaurant knowing I have a hickey! Which I don’t. Because it’s not a hickey. It’s, um—”

“Oh my god, it is! It totally is. Y/n! You got some, didn’t you?” 

“No comment.” Your face burns red hot. 

“Okay, well, based on the fact that you don’t want to tell me, your best friend, about it, it was probably either really good or really bad. And judging by the way you’re blushing…” She leans her chin on one fist. “I’m going to guess that it was really good.” 

"Stop it. You're the worst. The absolute worst." There might as well be steam coming off your face. You lower your voice. "Yes. It was really good. He was hot, thorough, and not clingy at all. The consummate hookup. Are you happy now?" 

"Overjoyed." Hyejin looks far too pleased with herself. "Does this guy have a name?”

“Taehyung.”

“Taehyung,” she repeats. “So. Are you going to see him again?"

You think about his number written on the scrap of paper currently sitting in the change pocket of your purse. In case you need me. "I don't know. Probably not. I mean, that's how one-night stands work, isn't it? Kinda defeats the purpose of the whole ‘one-night’ thing if you see them more than once." 

Hyejin shrugs. "They can. There's no rule that says they have to. You said he's hot. Would you want to see him again?" 

"Well…maybe?” You think about it. The man hasn’t left your mind since you left his apartment. “If the opportunity presented itself? He did give me his number. And he did say he wanted to see me again."

She sighs. "Y/n, I love you. But you might be the dumbest person in the world when it comes to this kind of thing."

"What?" you demand. "What is that supposed to mean? He was probably just being flirty. I doubt he really wants to see me again." 

"Of course he was being flirty. He wants to see you again. He made it a point to give you his number, y/n. Opportunity is literally pounding on your door. Are you just going to let the best sex of your life slip past you when you could seize the day and do something you’ve never done before?” Hyejin leans in. “Look. I know what you’re going to say. You’re not looking for anything serious right now, and I totally get it after what that piece of shit did to you. But why not have a good old-fashioned no strings attached fling? You deserve it. You’re practically a saint for putting up with that asshole for so long. And if this guy isn’t on the same page, then you cut your losses and move on. Simple as that.” 

“Simple as that, huh?” You cross your arms and stare pensively at the table. 

“Honestly.” She shrugs. “If you don’t text him, I will.” 

“Jin, you’re engaged.” 

“Yeah, but I’m not dead, am I?”

You: Hi. It's y/n. You: From last weekend? You: This is Taehyung, right? Taehyung: It is. Taehyung: I was wondering when I’d hear from you. You: And I was wondering when I could see you again. Taehyung: That depends. You: On what? Taehyung: How bad you want to see me.

You rap three times and wait, the silence in the hallway almost unbearable. For a moment you think you’ve made a mistake coming back over here, but then the door swings open, and there he is. Barefooted, in shorts and a baggy, paint-stained t-shirt. A far cry from the way he looked when you met him last weekend, but at this moment you don’t think you’ve ever found anyone more attractive.

He looks you up and down, a satisfied smirk creeping across his mouth. “So you came.”

“Yeah. I did.” Your heart is pounding. “This is probably a bad idea.”

“Uh-huh.” Taehyung nods, leaning against the frame of his front door. His crossed arms draw attention to his rolled-up sleeves, accentuating his biceps. 

“A really bad idea.” Your nails are digging into the palms of your hands. 

“So you’ve established.” He tilts his head to one side. “Still time to leave. Although I won’t say I’m willing to forget it ever happened.” 

You shake your head. You’ve already spent way too much time thinking about this. “No. I want this.” 

“Good, because I do too.” He holds out a hand. “Are you going to come in, then?” 

You put your hand in his, and he immediately tugs you toward him, until you’re mere inches away from each other. His touch is magnetic. Like perfect polar opposites. “Yeah,” you breathe, inhaling his scent. Sandalwood, bergamot, and pine. “I’m coming in.” 

©2022 by @mrworldwideshoulders​

[metabolizemotions]

The creative choices on the show are as subjective as each of the viewer's interpretations.

I think a lot of why I personally feel deeply uncomfortable n resistant is the asymmetry.

I get the need for variety. The same thing may be expressed differently for different characters. A healing journey will differ from person to person. Each step is also taken on a personalized timeline.

But I can't help but think of the asymmetry of how the show dealt with Mason vs Beckett n even Dixon. They condemned Mason immediately at his worst but dug deep to show the sides of Beckett n Dixon that were still human despite it all.

The trigger shot scene with Beckett felt like 0 to 100 in his reconciliation with Maya. It felt like a 12-step program of which he skipped many steps when it came to Maya. From the get-go, we saw a sexist, incompetent captain who was demeaning to his team n constantly put them under stress n in danger, on top of endangering civilians n even equipment. For months, we saw this middle-aged man in a position of power, take perverse joy in bullying a younger female subordinate to appease his ego. That was workplace harassment. He also took out his unresolved trauma on the people around him, in this case, people he had authority over. Alcoholism was not the sole reason for all his bad behavior. Even if it was, it should not be used to excuse it.

The team, esp Maya, was trapped in this hostile work environment sanctioned by the female chief. This was a more common n insidious manifestation of toxic masculinity, one that was amplified by his position of power, n sometimes even supported by women, when their goals aligned in the power struggle.

Yet the show gave so much more grace n compassion to the bullies than the bullied. The team treated Beckett n Ross with more kindness n respect than they earned, n less kindness n more apathy towards Maya than she deserved.

Then he was given a long, carefully constructed redemption arc, while Mason, a rushed condemnation arc.

It felt like 100 to 0 with Mason. We saw Mason briefly in earlier seasons, mainly thru the eyes of Maya. We missed a lot of the in b/w. We caught him again at his worst. We only saw the side that was full of hate ideology, but not his side that was also human. We knew about his addiction n homelessness. But we didn’t see how as a young abused person w/o positive role models n a support system, he was vulnerable to these hate groups, which he clung to, when offered him just a semblance of belonging or respect. He had not learned to let go of his resentment of their parents n Maya but taught to transfer this unresolved hate to fill a meaning void.

The scene itself b/w Maya n Mason was great. It was an urgent n imperative story to tell. Maya's actions were right n necessary. But in the bigger scheme of things, it felt like a quick tie-up of loose ends, of a once-beloved brother, who came n went abruptly. Despite it being a logical narrative choice to wrap up the nature/nurture discussions of Marina n discovery that Maya's deepest fears about herself manifested in her bro instead. It's heartbreaking n yet disheartening that it was again about queer hate when it came to another main queer character on the show.

It is just jarring to juxtapose Mason with Beckett in 703 then 707. Also juxtaposing his empathy towards Maya with the lack thereof from the others, despite everyone having just been thru 706 n having witnessed Maya's breakdown. So, in a way, I see the actions of these characters as being designed with the goal to emphasize Beckett's empathetic side, in support of his arc.

When looking at a scene with 2 scene partners, what it is really about? Who it is really for? Would the scene be the same if one is replaced?

There are many different takes on this. For me, it was really about Maya, but choosing Beckett as the scene partner made the scene more for him. If it were for Maya, other scene partners would be more meaningful n realistic. Esp those who earned their right for her to be vulnerable with. Maya, who bottled her feelings, let alone spill her deeper emotions, to someone whom she never had a proper conversation with, not to mention a fraught shared history. To add, alone in a small enclosed space, while administering a shot that made her even more vulnerable.

For the realism argument, this was not more realistic to me than having Carina, for a show which took a lot of liberties. It was a choice to design the circumstances to make Carina n the others unavailable n combine 2 scenes together. Carina's also Maya's life partner n best friend. A more realistic choice for Maya to share this devastating heartbreak n grieving process with. It was a big aspect of their marriage. We saw many discussions b/w them yet when it finally came to the conclusion, it was with the least likely person, an almost stranger.

I see the trigger shot as part of Marina's baby journey I wish we get to see them undergoing together. It reminded me of 5b in that Marina's story about their own baby journey - again with someone of a fraught shared history, of a different nature - was more about him n to lead to his own bio family story. Marina's story was messy n got nowhere. And here we r, seasons later, rushing thru it.

It's not that Maya/ Carina or Marina should not have scenes with others. It's that it's usually more about the others even if it's their storyline. Or they r the backdrop for others' drama. They either isolate Marina or suddenly include them or one of them in an in-depth discussion of their private matters with others, usually something we hear about for the first time. I just don't remember something like that happening with other characters. Is it too much to ask to see a married w|w couple, with little screentime, share a meaningful conversation or moment first, also or exclusively? We so rarely see such a rep on TV. The show is not about Marina, but shouldn't their own story reasonably prioritize them?

[aawrkive]

𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 ｇｏ ａｗａｙ 𝖨 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎...

⎯ 𝖶𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗋-𝗏𝗂𝖾𝗐.

Taehyung once heard that you only know you love someone when there is no reason to love them.

He spent his entire life in Florence – Italy, and never had the opportunity to travel abroad, until last summer, when he went to Scotland through voluntary work, his plans were all about new experiences and he could never imagine that he would meet the love of his life there. Then he knew... when something inside him started to burst into flames, it was his body and soul, all devoted to a person who looked at him and suddenly the world took on new colors.

Jungkook made Taehyung stop thinking properly and breathing controlledly, all Kim had to do was fight the urge to lean forward and touch his lips.

Jeon was the most beautiful melody he had ever heard, he felt the need to make him laugh every day to enjoy his laugh mixed with yours. It was the time of their lives, when Taehyung left they thought they would never meet again, but the most beautiful millennial alignment was in favor of the two, who, united by a red thread, would at some point be together again, and in the hearts of each one of them had this certainty and that was enough for them to want to continue living so that one day they could live together.

And that day arrived. After two years of exchanged letters, their laughter now filled the silence along with the raindrops and the sound of their feet jumping in puddles of water.

Somewhere in southern Italy.

— We kissed until we couldn't breathe.

[artscloudy]

POV: You and your boyfriend Jimin decide to move to Italy to a cottage near the sea. You spend your days playing together on the sand or in the nearby woods. He spends hours painting in the flower fields and you prepare boquets to sell in the town.

♡ Jimin ♡

[personasdestinyy]

Sorrowful Love | Ch#4 | JJK

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; All he desires is vengeance.

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: thriller, angst, love at first sight, au! sexting

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x Sena oc!

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: This story contains explicit language, graphic violence(murders, blood etc), and other mature content, If you are easily affected by such themes, it might be best to avoid reading it.

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.8k+

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭⇢

Jungkook's Pov:

After my encounter with that weird girl, the first thought that crossed my mind was, 'What a strange girl!'. Despite my efforts to suppress it, a smile involuntarily crept onto my lips. It was as if her eccentricity had a contagious effect on me, leaving me both bewildered and amused.

'Fuck'

Women don't usually bewilder me, and I'm not easily amused by girly things or their peculiar behaviors. However, against all odds, she managed to bring a small smile to my face. I can't believe how?

Later on, I decided to buy Geworin tablets, for myself. As I paid for the medication and walked out of the pharmacy, I just hoped that this medication would provide some relief, a glimmer of hope to lift my spirits.

After buying medicine, I make my way back home through the familiar streets. I unlock the door, step inside, and head straight to the kitchen to fetch a water bottle. With the pill in hand and a glass of water, I swallow it down and feel a sense of relief washing over me.

Feeling slightly better, I make my way to the art gallery, constructed in the basement. Bending down, I retrieve the hidden key from beneath the carpet and walk over to a large canvas. With a bit of effort, I lift the canvas and set it aside, revealing a hidden door. Inserting the key into the lock, I hear the satisfying click as it opens. I then tuck the key back into the right pocket of my pants and swing the door open.

As I step into the room, my eyes immediately gravitate towards the images that I've meticulously taped on the wall. These images represent the people who have caused me immense pain and anger. With a mix of hate and disdain, I take a moment to glance at each one, feeling a surge of emotions coursing through my veins. It's as if the mere sight of these individuals ignites a fire within me, causing my blood to boil and wanting me to end these people's lives right now.

With a sense of determination, I reach for a file sitting on the table nearby.

However, before I can even open the file, the familiar ring of my phone interrupts the moment. I place the file back on the table and smoothly retrieve my phone from the right pocket of my pants. Glancing at the caller ID, I see an unfamiliar number flashing on the screen.

Considering the limited number of contacts I have saved in my phone, I deduce that this call must be related to an order I've been expecting. I answer the call, And a soft voice greets me on the other end, belonging to a girl who seems eager to speak.

"Ah, hello," she says, her voice carrying a sense of excitement. "I'd like to order a painting."

Intrigued by her request, I find myself momentarily forgetting about the images on the wall and the file on the table. Instead, I focus my attention on this individual on the other side of the phone.

I asked the girl on the phone, "Can you share with me your emotions?"

In response, she started to speak rapidly, expressing, "I am overwhelmed with emotions at the moment, and I find it hard to put them into words. I am also curious about understanding my emotions, which is why I am interested in this artwork. I am eager to explore the range of emotions I am experiencing. Let me begin to describe them to you. Please make a note of them, okay? I am feeling a mix of despair, happiness, and fear right now. I crave love in my life, yet there are moments when I feel like I can do without it. I am puzzled by my own emotions. Just capture all of this," she paused, taking a deep breath.

I couldn't help but chuckle as I jotted down her array of emotions.

"I will do my best. I will let you know once it's done," I assured her.

"Oh my goodness, thank you so much! I am beyond grateful. I don't know how to repay you. Oh, I almost forgot to ask, how much will this painting cost?"She immediately exclaimed, and her words made me giggle for some reason.

"Why are you laughing?" she inquired with a soft voice. "Is the cost really that high that it's beyond my means?"

Responding to her concerns, I offered reassurance, "No, it's not as expensive as you think. Depending on how you feel, the price ranges around xxx ."

Relieved by my response, she let out a sigh and said, "Thank goodness, I can afford it."

"By the way, could you please share your name with me so I can recognize you when you come for the painting?" I asked.

After a brief pause, she ended the call with a contemplative "hmm." Meanwhile, I found myself simply staring at the screen of my phone, unsure of what to do next. Suddenly, a message from her appeared on the screen, breaking the silence.

Curiosity piqued, I eagerly opened the message and read the words,

"'Natasha' is my name."

Reading those four words repeatedly, I sensed that she had given me a false name. Her peculiar actions brought a chuckle to my lips as I securely tucked my phone back into the left pocket of my pants.

5:30pm

I decided to take a leisurely stroll through the nearby neighborhood park. As I step outside, I inhale deeply, allowing the fresh evening air to fill my lungs. The park is bathed in a soft golden glow as the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the grass.

I start my walk, my footsteps echoing softly on the pavement. As I make my way through the park, I take in the sights and sounds around me. The chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze, and the distant laughter of children playing in the playground.

As I continue my stroll, my gaze sweeps across the park, taking in the various scenes unfolding before me. And then, something catches my eye. A young child, full of energy and excitement, dashing towards his parents. His tiny legs carry him swiftly, his face beaming with joy.

I watch as his mother, with open arms, scoops him up into a warm embrace, showering him with kisses. His father, standing nearby, can't help but pinch his cheeks affectionately.

Unbeknownst to me, a single tear escapes my eye, rolling down my cheek. I quickly turn my head, hoping no one notices, and take a few deep breaths to compose myself. And decide it's time to head back home.

After arriving home, I made my way to the room that I had meticulously designed to resemble the gallery. As I entered, I couldn't help but notice that my heartbeat was racing at an alarming rate. The mere thought of them sent shivers down my spine, making me want to let out a scream. I desperately tried to push them out of my mind, not wanting to dwell on the memories.

However, it seemed that my heart had a mind of its own today. It stubbornly refused to listen to reason, reminding me of just how much I missed them.

As I swung open the door, a heavy sigh escaped my lips. Once again, the sight of the pictures I had taped on the walls came into view, causing my heart to boil with burning rage. The sorrow of losing my parents because of them, the anger towards these fuckers who took them away from me, makes me want to rip their hearts out from their chests.

I clenched my fists, my knuckles turning white as I fought the urge to tear my hair out. The anger pulsated through my veins, turning my face a deep shade of crimson.

I took a deep breath, hoping to calm the storm raging inside me, but it seemed futile, but memories flooded my mind with fragments of cherished memories. Each glimpse brought forth a rush of emotions, reminding me of all the wonderful experiences and time I had shared with them. Unable to contain my sorrow any longer, a tear escaped my eye and trickled down my cheek, mirroring the intensity of my pounding heart.

Tears cascade down my cheeks as I release a loud scream, scattering every file which is on the table, unable to control my patience, my beating heart, my boiling blood. I collapsed onto the floor, my elbows resting on my knees, my hands still clutching at my hair. The tears continued to flow, my other hand automatically moving to cover my heart. "Mom, Dad, the pain of missing you is too much to bear," I cry uncontrollably.

"The idea of facing this harsh world without you fills me with dread and hopelessness."

I clench my fists and begin to hit my chest, as if attempting to physically ease the emotional pain.

"Mom Dad, the agony is overwhelming. It's tearing me apart," I murmur, my voice quivering with each word spoken to them, even if only in my mind.

After what seems like an endless period of tears and grief, I eventually pull myself together and try to regain control of my emotions.

It was the final moment that my tears fell for them, my heart consumed by a single, intense emotion: hatred. Hatred for those who snatched my parents away from me, who tore apart the fabric of our lives with their cruel actions.

I made a solemn vow. I vowed on the memory of my dead parents, who had taught me the values of love, loyalty, and justice, the emotions I think I've lost now that I would not rest now until every person of his family met their end.

I reach into my pocket and retrieve my mobile phone. With a trembling hand from anger, I wipe away the remnants of tears that have stained my cheeks, a testament to the pain and anger that have fueled my desire for revenge. The time has come, and I can no longer contain my eagerness to witness their fear, to see them tremble before me.

Unlocking my phone, I navigate to my contacts and search for the person who has trained me for this moment of revenge. In the past, I had severed this connection, needing time to heal but I didn't heal. And now, I am ready to unleash the fury that has been brewing inside me.

With a deep breath, I press the call icon next to their name. The sound of the ringing fills my ears, echoing the anticipation that courses through my veins. One ring... Two rings... Three rings... Finally, the call is answered on the other end.

Taking a moment to steady myself, I speak into the phone, my voice filled with determination and resolve. "I'm ready, Suga hyung."

© 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲𝐲 (𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝)

[armpirate]

Pairings: tattoist!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, friends to lovers, tattoo au, virgin reader, Jungkook's POV.

Summary: They say there are two versions for every story, and it's important to hear both of them. Everybody is hearing your side of the story, but it's just fair to get to know his.

After breaking up with his girlfriend, the only thing he wanted was to have fun with no attachment. You wanted to get rid of your virginity, and he wanted to tick you off his list. What he didn't expect was getting so emotionally attached to you that he would regret the deal.

Prologue - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30 - 31 - 32 - 33 - 34 - 35 - 36 - 37 - 38 - 39 - 40

[inbetweenhours]

okay so i know we’re all excited for The Sheriffs villain arc, whether i legitimatly think he’ll be able to do that is another question because as much as i love jimmy and would love to see him get this win i also firmly believe he has 1. kinda been  in a villain arc, he just doesnt have enough power to exact it. which is why 2. im not sure he has the skill to pull this off but either way im excited to see how this goes

no no no, i wanna focus on the other shit we saw today. Namely the fact that Gem whipped out a sword (Sausages?) and killed him? Also was 100% gonna push him off the bridge or something like,,, Princess Gem of Dawn?? Girlie are you doing okay? Did I miss something? Did you get heatstroke and forget what server you were on you’re a PACIFIST!!!?? Did i forget something  am i the only one alarmed by the behavior??

[koovlogs]

pov: your boyfriend namjoon takes you for a walk around the city in order to make you forget about all the tiredness and stress caused after a long week 🩶

[micamicster]

Trouble Man

this is. okay. this is. marvel fic. (throw your tomatoes now okay get it over with i understand i'll wait) but since we are in 2013 mentally. I thought i might as well? Bucky scene to follow!

[This is "canon compliant" if you imagine that the author has not seen any marvel movies post black panther (the first) and has seen maybe four episodes (not consecutive) of the sam bucky tv show. because she hasn't. enjoy!]

~

Sam lowers himself stiffly onto the steps of the porch, then keeps going, tipping his head back until it hits the top step. The stretch brings a good ache with it, a familiar one, that briefly overshadows the crueler hurts still lingering under the suit. He sighs.

He can feel Bucky more than see him, standing just outside of the ring of light cast by the porch lamp. He’s doing that thing that other people call looming, but Sam has come to see as more of an anxious hovering. Something Bucky does when he’s got something to say and isn’t sure how to say it, or thinks he should be doing something but he’s not quite sure what it is. It shows up a lot when Sam is fucked over and dead on his feet, so he associates it with the worst of Bucky’s mother-hen impulses. What a life he leads.

“Steve—“ starts Bucky, and thankfully stops there. Even the name hurts to hear. He doesn’t want to talk about Steve right now.

For a minute there’s just the darkness, the faint breeze stirring the wind chimes and the leaves, the distant rumble of a semi on the main road… all familiar and comforting and in their places. And then there’s Bucky.

“I make it harder,” says Bucky. “For you.”

Sam swallows. He’s grateful for the arm he threw over his face, for the way it obscures his facial expression. Bucky’s always looking. He looks too hard, like he’s trying to crack Sam open and see all the pieces. Figure him out.

“It was always going to be harder for me. It’s not because of you, man. This was always going to be…” he’s so tired. “Hard.”

“But I don’t make it easier.”

“Yeah, you’re a real pill, I won’t lie to you.”

Bucky snorts faintly, but he doesn’t loosen up and sit down next to Sam, toss the insult back, cut the hovering. There are faint clicks and shuffling as his arm recalibrates, the closest thing he has to a nervous tic. What has Sam’s life become, that the faint whirr of an assassin shifting his metal arm is familiar enough that he can pick it out of the sounds of home with his eyes closed?

He lets himself consider, for a moment, what it would be like if Steve was here. By his side again but with their places swapped, Captain America’s right hand man. Steve, with his wry sense of humor and his aw-shucks grin and his noble, idealistic heart. His roman nose that Bucky had broken with a fastball in 1937. His blond hair and his blue eyes and his experimental ubermensch shoulders and…

He tries to shrug, but it’s more of a wince. Everything is one big fucking bruise. “If it wasn’t you, it’d be something else. There’s always something else.”

Bucky is silent.

As the silence draws out Sam feels a flicker of fear. By the next breath it’s panic—that Bucky’s slipped away already, vanished into the dark like the ghost he is. That he walks away from all of this and leaves Sam twisting in the wind.

He sits up too fast, muscles screaming in protest, and Bucky’s right there where he always is. Looking at him.

“Don’t,” Sam starts. Don’t what? Don’t leave him alone?

He has dreams, sometimes, where he’s still chasing Bucky. Where he never stopped. Searching for him through cities and train stations and his own old high school gymnasium with the strange driving logic of dreams, knowing only that he’s lost something. Dreams where he’s running through a crowd, grabbing people to look in their faces—it’s never the right face.

He doesn’t want to do this shit alone. He’s a social motherfucker, he’s not cut out for the lone hero shtick.

He tries saying that, and Bucky only frowns harder. At least it’s his “I don’t understand the way you speak,” frown, which is a personal favorite.

 “You have people. You have… options.” Options who aren’t infamous soviet assassins with weekly thinkpieces published on the topic of his guilt or innocence or sanity, Sam assumes he means.

“Options? Name three.” So maybe he’s being stubborn about stupid crap, but he’s fucking tired, okay? It’s been a long day, full of gooey aliens and collapsing buildings and combative press conferences, and now he has to deal with… whatever this has turned into.

“Torres. Natalia. Sh—“

“I thought you were my partner. I thought you were my… guy.” He glares at what he can see of Bucky. His frowning face is still half-hidden in shadow, because he’s an idiot who operates on vampire rules. An invitation, then, Sam can do that. “That means you’re here until I tell you to get lost, okay? Let’s make it real fucking easy. When I say you’re here, you’re here.”

“I’m here,” Bucky parrots. There’s something soft in his eyes as he moves to give Sam a hand up. Maybe it’s just the flickering yellow porch light, maybe not.

~

[bloody-bee-tea]

24 Days of Satosugu 2023 Day 23 - Horns

Yaga eyes the boy in front of him. He seems lost, like almost all the new students who previously knew nothing about this world do and Yaga bites back a sigh. He knows it’s hard on people who are born outside the great clans, because by the time they are scouted, the people surrounding them will already have them half convinced that they are insane, but the boy in front of him seems mostly sane.

For now.

Yaga can’t help but to wonder if Geto will be a menace like the Gojo boy is certainly going to be or if he’ll turn out normal.

Well, as normal as people in their profession are, anyway.

“Welcome to Jujutsu High,” Yaga finally says and Geto gives him a deadpan stare but Yaga doesn’t let that matter to him. “You’ll be starting here in two weeks, with two other classmates.”

“Just two?” Geto asks, clearly unhappy about that and Yaga leads him towards his room.

“Classes here tend to be small,” he simply says and hears Geto sigh.

“What are the other two like?” he then asks, and Yaga wonders if this is the first time he ever met other kids his age who can see what he sees.

“Ieiri Shoko is a very pragmatic person,” Yaga vaguely says because it’s not as if he knows much about her yet. “I think you might get along.”

“And the other one?”

“The other boy is Gojo Satoru. He’s—” a menace, brilliant, spoiled, too young to carry the expectations that were placed on him “—loud. Boisterous. You’re probably going to lock horns with him, he can be a bit much and a little demanding. You’d do well to tell him no every once in a while.”

“I see,” Geto says, clearly not at all happy with the explanations he just got but Yaga can’t help it.

He’ll get to know Gojo and Ieiri soon enough and then he can decide for himself if he’s going to like them.

“Are they here already?” Geto wants to know and just in that moment Gojo comes barrelling around a corner, one of Mei Mei’s crows flying after him.

The bird lets out an angry cry which only makes Gojo laugh even louder and Yaga fights the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, a new guy!” Gojo exclaims, his eyes locked on Geto at Yaga’s side and he immediately introduces himself to the other boy, crow completely forgotten.

“I’m Gojo Satoru, strongest sorcerer alive,” he boldly says and Geto gives him the same deadpan stare he gave Yaga earlier.

“Most idiotic one, maybe, fighting with a bird,” Geto mutters under his breath, making Gojo gasp out in hurt and before Yaga knows it, the two are bickering amongst each other, Gojo slowly dragging Geto off and to Yaga’s horror Geto follows him easily.

So much for that clashing theory; these two are probably going to get along like a house on fire and Yaga better stocks up on pain medication. He’s going to need a lot of it in the future, he can already tell.

This time, he does pinch the bridge of his nose.

~*~*~

Yaga is on his way to deliver some papers to the headmaster when he passes by a classroom. He notices Geto and Gojo inside, but he doesn’t dwell on it—it’s rare enough that they are in a classroom at all and seemingly voluntarily at that—but when Geto speaks he hears it loud and clear.

“How do you do it?” Geto wants to know and Yaga stops outside, well out of sight, because he has learned that Gojo rarely sees anyone else when Geto is around.

“How do I do what?” Gojo asks, sounding bored but Yaga has seen enough of these two to know that Gojo is anything but when Geto is around.

It’s worrisome, sometimes.

“All—of this,” Geto gives back and Yaga peers into the classroom, sees him wave his hand as if he truly wants to encapsulate all of this.

“What do you mean?” Gojo laughs out. “I was born to do this, it’s not as if it’s something I have to think about.”

It’s—sad, Yaga thinks, for someone to have been born to do this, especially with how most of their lives end abruptly and violently and going by the brief look that passes Geto’s face, he seems to think something similar.

“Good for you,” Geto finally breathes out. “But to me it feels as if this world takes more strength than it actually gave me.”

It’s only because Geto is looking down at his hands as if admitting that could make him weak in Gojo’s eyes that he doesn’t see the blazing look Gojo gives him.

“I have more than enough strength for the both of us. Take some of mine, if you’re missing your own,” he says and it’s an offer so stupid, so pure that it makes Yaga take a step back.

He really didn’t need to know that about them.

~*~*~

The incident with the Star Plasma Vessel changed Geto and Gojo and Yaga isn’t yet sure if it’s for the better.

Sure, Gojo is growing stronger almost by the minute, mastering his techniques and advancing them even beyond what anyone thought was possible, but he almost seems callous. Detached in a way Yaga doesn’t know him to be, but he guesses that’s what happens after a near death experience.

Gojo on the other hand seems to struggle with everything at the moment, and it’s apparent in the way he holds himself apart from the others, seems stressed all the time at the moment and Yaga is going to bet his salary on the fact that he doesn’t sleep for more than three hours a night.

Those bags under his eyes are enough to even make Yaga tired.

He watches Geto, Gojo and Ieiri from afar, sees how they test Gojo’s Infinity but it’s only when Gojo calls out for Geto that Yaga really pays attention.

“Hey, Suguru, are you alright? Have you lost weight?”

“I’m fine, Satoru, it’s just the summer heat,” Geto gives back, his voice almost without inflection and Yaga sees how Gojo briefly frowns at him, but ultimately he lets Geto walk away, trusting his words over what his eyes clearly must tell him, simply lets it go and Yaga sighs.

That is the problem with trust; it’s a delicate balance. Too little of it means one is always going to be alone, always trying to shoulder everything on their own with no on to lean on but too much—it can be just as catastrophic as having none at all.

Except in this case, Geto is the one who is going to get hurt.

“You don’t believe that, right?” he asks Gojo as he steps into view and Gojo gives him a petulant look.

“What does it matter to you?”

“I have seen this before,” Yaga tells him and sits down, waiting for Gojo to do the same.

“Seen what before?”

“Someone breaking under all of this.” Yaga doesn’t like to remember it, doesn’t want to admit just how they failed his previous classmate, but he can’t let it happen with Geto.

He’s not sure what it would do to Gojo.

“It happens sometimes, that people can’t find a reason to stay. Nanami is next, if I’d have to guess,” Yaga tells him, because Nanami certainly strikes him as that person, and not even in a bad sense. He’s going to do what’s best for him and if that’s leaving—well.

But things with Geto are different.

“If they don’t find a reason to stay, they leave and that’s fine. It only becomes a problem if they find a reason to leave.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Gojo demands to know and Yaga looks at him.

“Geto doesn’t know why he’s doing all of this anymore. He still excels in his missions of course but he stopped caring,” Yaga admits because before, Geto would make sure to care for the people who were caught in the mess.

Nowadays he lets Ijichi care for the non-sorcerers.

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t know about that since you don’t send us on missions together anymore,” Gojo grumbles and Yaga nods his head.

He might be on to something here.

“You’re right. You’re officially on break, starting today,” he declares and thoroughly enjoys the look of shock on Gojo’s face.

“You can’t just do that!”

“I can. And I just have.”

“But you said Suguru isn’t doing well, why are you benching me?”

“Because Geto isn’t doing well,” Yaga says as if it should be obvious, which it clearly isn’t going by the frown on Gojo’s face. “Listen. Geto tries to find a meaning in what he does; stopping him from doing anything is not going to help. But if you don’t have your own missions, that means you are free to do what you want.”

It seems that now Gojo is finally catching on.

“And if I want to accompany Suguru on his missions—”

“Then who am I to tell you no,” Yaga finishes for him and Gojo laughs.

“You’re not so bad after all,” he decides, slapping his thighs and getting up. “I’ll let Suguru know about the good news!”

He’s off before Yaga can say anything else and so he can only sigh at nothing.

These two will make him go grey long before his time, he’s certain of that.

~*~*~

Yaga stops Tsukumo before she can really step foot into the school.

“I’d really rather not see you here at the moment,” Yaga tells her, not entirely unkind and Tsukumo narrows her eyes at him.

“I would ask what type of girls you like but you’re just going to say something about your dolls and I don’t want to hear it,” she gives back. “I’m here to see Gojo Satoru.”

“He’s not available,” Yaga tells her, because he should be packing for his trip with Geto and Haibara.

If Nanami and Ieiri join them it might as well be a class trip. Maybe he should make it so, just to give them some time to relax.

“Geto Suguru, then,” she tries next and Yaga simply shakes his head at her.

“Let’s talk in a classroom, alright?”

“Bah,” she says but follows him when he leads the way.

“Why don’t you want me talking to your students? Is it because I’m a useless bum?”

“Have you finally heard the rumors going around about you?” Yaga shoots back but then shakes his head. “I know you’re not just wasting your time away. I have heard about your latest inquiry. And that’s the problem. My students are—in a delicate state right now.”

“I heard about the death of the Star Plasma Vessel. I also heard a new one has been found.”

“They don’t know that,” Yaga says with a sigh. “They don’t need to know that.”

“They were tasked with protecting her?”

“Yes. They were set on letting her decide her own fate and she wanted to live instead of merge with Tengen. You know who killed her?”

“Toji Fushiguro,” Tsukumo immediately says because of course she knows.

She lost her patient zero, so to speak.

“Like I said; things are delicate here, at the moment, as you can probably imagine. And your ideas could be considered quite radical. I fear my students are in no shape to entertain you currently.”

Tsukumo only hums at his words.

“What?”

“It’s good to see you care so much,” she tells him, getting up and waving her goodbyes. “I’ll allow your request. For now. Make sure they are in better shape when I drop by next!”

She leaves without another look back and Yaga carefully tracks her way out of the school, just to make sure that she’s not taking any detours. Thankfully she doesn’t and when she rides off on her bike it almost feels as if Yaga somehow dodged a bullet.

Gojo would have probably waved her off, not a second thought wasted, but Geto is still looking for a reason to stay—or to leave—and Yaga fears her ideas could have lead him astray.

Well, they won’t have to find out, now, he thinks and gets up to check on his student’s progress.

They are supposed to take the plane in less than two hours and Yaga has to inform Nanami and Ieiri that they are going along with the rest of them.

He’ll thoroughly enjoy a few days of peace and quiet on campus.

[fluffypotatey]

tidbit Thursday

i am tired and sleepy (how many times have i mentioned that? we should make it a drinking game lmao) but i wanna share some of my wip for ch6 of my hangster hanahaki au bc it is killing me inside

What was strange though was that the moment he was asked to sit, Admiral Kazansky went straight into the comparison. Or, at least, Hangman believed it to be a comparison. All the admiral had done so far was talk about the infamous Maverick with a wistful tone (which was further confusing since the admiral seemed to be calling Maverick a conceited dick). “He had his head up in the clouds and it was like he was made for the sky, and he knew it, too. It was the only reason the Navy still kept his ass because grounding him would do them more harm than good in the long run.” He chuckled. “Still does.” “Sir.” Jake bit his lip, unsure how to ask what does this have to do with me without sounding like an asshole

is it close to being done? no and i brood about it every time i remember. do i have a better idea on how to plot it? yes but that means i’ll prob cut a lot of scenes for the sake of the chapter (rip)