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#this is so long and I can’t get read mores to work so I hope tumblr shortens it lmao
alphajocklover · 1 day
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InstaJock: Going Viral
**Hey! This is my entry for @occamstfs Viral Transformation Challenge. Congrats on getting 2,000 followers, and thank you for beta reading this and helping me edit it. I hope I can get to 2,000 followers myself one day! For those who are new to my stories, this does connect to the plot established in my blog, but the concept is simple enough you should be able to follow along even if you don't usually read my stuff! I hope you all enjoy!**
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When I talk about the InstaJock App Phenomenon – which I seem to do a lot. What is this, the 17th InstaJock related post? I need to diversify more – I usually talk about the transformation aspects and not the app itself. That’s partially because the transformation is the most interesting and hottest part, but it’s also because I haven’t been able to take a good look at the app. Even with all the protective spells and equipment I have, I can’t use a phone with InstaJock on it for very long without getting an urge to set up an account. 
Until now.
With some help from the devilishly handsome (and literally devilish) Nick, I’ve been able to get my hands on some better equipment and better explore the app. I was able to spend a couple hours on it before I needed to quit, and actually got some very interesting information, mainly about how the app works post-transformation. I had always assumed that once a user got transformed into a jock, they’d ignore the app from then on unless they wanted to change someone. I was very, very wrong, not just about that but about the purpose of the app itself. It’s not just for making people into jocks: it’s for finding the best ones.
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The app generally works like any other social media app, with its members posting about their interests. It’s set up is a lot like Instagram, where pictures and videos are the main format used for posting, but what really makes it different from other social media apps is the content. You can probably guess what an app full of buff cocky jocks looks like, but I’ll confirm it for you: the app is a thirst trap paradise.
The entire app is stuffed with half naked –  and sometimes fully naked – photos of buff jocks, ones of all different kinds. If you can think up a jock related stereotype, they have a full hashtag dedicated to it. Just buff jocks playing sports, flexing and making out with other hot people, for as far. I know that doesn’t sound too different from normal social media apps, as most have a healthy NSFW side, but the posts have more in common then just showing jocks. Each and every post, every one that I saw, mentioned a Master. Some were talking about how they were getting pumped up at the gym for Master, some were talking about how they loved being jocks and were so glad Master had found them, and some were literally begging for Master to notice them, often wantonly describing how they’d debase themselves and be the sluttiest jock ever, all for him. Everyone on the app would post at least once a day about this mysterious Master. It doesn’t seem to matter if the jock is a dom, a sub, a top, a bottom, in a relationship, single, gay or even straight, all of them wanted this mysterious unnamed master – so much so they seemed to completely change personalities whenever he is mentioned. It seems instaJock has an additional side effect I didn’t know about till now: complete and utter devotion to their Master.
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It took me a while, and some covert interviewing of a number of jocks in their DMs, but I think I figured out what's happening. The Jocks aren’t just posting for fun, they’re competing with each other. InstaJock isn’t really a social media app, it’s a sort of ranking app. Every day the jocks log on, post a picture of themselves with a caption somehow related to their Master, and leave likes on some of the other posts, usually the ones they find hot. If a jock’s post gets enough likes though, they get what every jock wants, what all of them are trying to get. They get to Go Viral.
Going Viral on IntsaJock isn’t like going viral on a regular app. It essentially means you’ve gotten enough likes, been reposted enough times, and have become popular enough on the site… that Master has noticed you. That's what the social media part of the app is really for. It’s just a way for Master’s jocks to organize themselves so only the hottest ones show up on his feed. If he really likes you, he’ll do more than just look too. Soon that Jock will disappear from his regular life, never to be seen again, whisked away to become a part of Master’s personal harem. This entire time the app has been about one thing: creating lovestruck sex slaves for the man who created InstaJock.
Like most actual social media apps, InstaJock jumps from one thing to another, and what's viral is always changing. But there are two tags that are always trending on InstaJock. The first, and most popular, is #JockMaster, which is only ever used by this mysterious Master when he makes a post. I’ve seen his account. He never shows his face on it, but from what little of his body that makes it into the photos, he’s… enchanting. As much as I hate to admit it, seeing just a bit of that creep almost made me drool. He usually only posts a couple times a week, as opposed to the jock who posts daily, but everything he posts goes viral on the app in moments. I’ll admit, there's something about his posts that is just… hypnotic. I almost set up an account after seeing one myself, and probably would have if Nick wasn’t there to stop me.
The other tag that's always trending is… more interesting, at least to me. It’s #MastersBoyfriend. It’s another tag used only by Master, and one he uses whenever he posts a picture of one particular member of his harem. 
Whenever he posts pictures… of my Uncle John.
I finally know who took my Uncle. I know who this Master is. I suspected it was him for a while, but now I’m sure. The man who made InstaJock and the man who turned my Uncle into a slutty buff himbo are one in the same. I finally have proof.
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So now what?
**The identity of the person behind InstaJock AND the person behind my Uncle's transformation and kidnapping has finally been revealed! Been working up to this for a long time, and I'm glad to keep this story moving forward! Hope you liked it as much as I do! Thank you to @occamstfs once again for being absolutely awesome and inspiring!**
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tenjikyu · 3 days
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Okay! With your earlier reply in mind, here is my second request *slides it across the nonexistent table*
I've been having major Mitsuya brain rot so obviously this request will be about him :>
Picture this: Final timeline adult Mitsuya doing all his fashion designing stuff x house spouse (gn version of housewife/househusband).
Genre can be fluff, maybe a bit suggestive if that's okay with you, I don't mind either way, I am just dying for some Mitsuya works cuz I swear I've read most of the gn and male reader x him fics out there and I am starving for new content with him
Hopefully this was coherent and had at least something you could work with (if you need anything more specific, I can send another request)
— 🎭
𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘍𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥
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౨ৎ ⋆。˚ mitsuya x GN!housespouce!reader , pure fluff n slightly suggestive but it’s nothing more then kissing, I 💗 mitsuya omg, still haven’t rewatched Tokyo rev I’ve been slack 🙁, short n sweet but I was struggling to finish it and I didn’t wanna keep the people waiting much longer so I do apologise.
౨ৎ ⋆。˚ I’m so sorry for how long this took!! I desperately wanted to get this out before it hit the 1 month mark but I’ve been super duper busy with personal shit! Hope it’s still good enough lmao.
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Takashi ironed the fabric with the upmost care, fondling the silk around the board with a low heat level on. The design itself was a dress resembling a lotus flower. The top was beaded with pale pink rhinestones and the bottom consisted with an array of green silks and gems. It had a sharp yet form fitting feel and anyone could tell the designer put the upmost love into the piece.
A gentle knock came from the other side of his work studio, and there was only one person it could be.
“Here darling, I made you some miso soup to have. Light enough it’ll keep you full but still good for dinner”, your voice charms his ears. Ever since moving in with him, you’ve taken on the role of housespouce. You clean and cook for him, in order to provide the best possible space for Takashi to work in.
It had been twelve years since the two of you got together in middle school. You were the schools vice president, and he was a gang member. Despite the opposite worlds, you hung out frequently and even babysat his sisters when he was unavailable. The day Takashi knew he wanted to some day marry you was the day he came home to his two younger sisters resting in your lap, washed dishes and comfortably lying on the futon.
Now, the two of you reside in an upper class place with lots of room for Takashi’s designs, and none of them are anything short of ethereal. Behind every design he creates, inspiration of you seeps through the thread and needle. Your favourite flower, animal, colour and styles all influence Takashi’s dresses and all of them are of the highest quality.
So, whenever you come into the studio, Takashi gives you a big grin and awaits a hug from his favourite partner.
“How’s your day, darling?” He asks you, and you smile gently at him.
“I’ve missed you, I can’t deny. It seems you’ve been locked in here forever”.
“I apologise my dear”.
“I know another way you can’t make it up to me..” you grin at him, and his cheeks flush with a pink hue.
Kissing his Adam’s apple gently, you guide him up and out of the studio, into your bedroom. Lying his cherished body onto the bed, you feel up his torso as you continue to litter him with small hickies.
He soon follows your lead, pressing a loving kiss to your cultivating lips. You swear there’s nothing closer to heaven than this man’s touch, and you’re convinced you’ve ascended as he grips your cheeks to deepen your kiss.
“I’ve missed you too, darling”, Takashi presses another kiss to your collarbone and manoeuvres his hands around your waist, and you sigh gently at his grip.
“I promise you I’ll give you what you want, after we eat dinner “, you giggle, and his pout is nothing short of cute.
“So you lead me to bed and suddenly leave me high and dry? I’m hurt baby”, he chuckles out, pressing one last kiss to the wedding ring on your finger.
“After dinner, I’ll give you all the desert you desire my love”.
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sarahreesbrennan · 2 days
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Also also: is there any way, or will there be any way, for readers without whichever special edition (?) it’s in to read “Letters to My Lady from the Abyss…”? Reading your Reddit AMA in a desire to know more about this wonderful book and the idea of a tiny bit extra has me 👀
Thank you for wishing to know more! FairyLoot special edition is the special edition with bonus content. I will explain more. FairyLoot is a wonderful UK-based group who make fancy special editions for their monthly boxes. People sign up for FairyLoot and get books picked for them. You can get Young Adult, Adult Fantasy, or Romantasy, or a combination thereof - Long Live Evil was the August Adult Fantasy pick - and you can buy other special editions from their website. So the FairyLoot folks are Tastemakers as well as makers of beautiful objects. (ISN’T IT BEAUTIFUL? Pictures stolen. Interior art by Bon Orthwick who got Marius’s hair PERFECT.)
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But you can’t buy the monthly boxes, unless they have extras! If they do have extra Evils to buy, I will put up a link.
There are many boxes now, but FairyLoot and Illumicrate are the two biggest and have made a lot more people embrace reading and see books as a special treat. Waterstones and Barnes & Noble have started making special editions of books because of them. A while back I knew none of this, because I was staying away from publishing, working with IP books (very different branch of publishing) and training for a different job. But then I did a catch-up call with my frien. She talked about FairyLoot. I did not understand her and thought maybe the deadlines had got on top of her and she believed fairies had looted her manuscript.
Holly: So these FairyLoot editions have (She holds up a copy of… I think… the Coldest Girl In Coldtown?) been amazing for UK sales.
Sarah: Sorry but why are these books so beautiful?
Holly: Because I just explained to you why, girl. Sarah: Can I have this.
Holly: No they’re limited!
So then I knew FairyLoot was a Giant Deal and they were offered Long Live Evil but I was sure they wouldn’t pick me.
My lovely editor Jenni: great news, the FairyLoot people picked you! Sarah: are you. are you quite sure.
Jenni: … yes? Could you write them some bonus content? Sarah: YES! A thing I can do for them? Oh yes! Here’s three things I can do. Tell them they can pick which one they would like!
I wrote a letter for them as well, to be bound in with the book. But the bonus content is an extra adventure or point of view you didn’t get to see in the main book. FairyLoot picks what they think their readers might like most.
I really like epistolary novels, where the action is told though letters, such as Jane Austen’s Lady Susan and Amal El Mohtar and Max Gladstone’s This Is How You Lose The Time War. So I thought it would be fun to do a story through letters!
Obviously I then had a moment of dark self-doubt.
Sarah: O my god why did they pick this nobody’s going to like him what shall I do! Holly: When I was writing Cardan’s letters you said ‘epistolary is so fun, you said, this is a piece of cake, you said, get in loser we’re writing romantically sinister letters, you said…’
Sarah: my Vision is a romantic The Screwtape Letters. Holly: … oh dear. Okay. Get in loser we’re writing romantically sinister letters.
And so with a lil help from my kind frien, I wrote Letters to My Lady From the Abyss, which is an epistolary short story with a POV we don’t get in book 1 and an adventure we don’t get to see. But I did write it, as you see, for FairyLoot so it belongs to them and it’s up to them. I think I might get it back in a year and then I’ll put it up on my website. I will let you know!
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I am so sorry for this very long explanation, I just wanted to let you know what was up.
Should you read it, I hope you enjoy. And I will write more bonus content, I promise!
Also speaking of FairyLoot, they’re doing a readalong of Long Live Evil right now if anyone might like to chat about the book. Here’s a link to people talking about chapters 1-7 - they will do a different chunk every day! I like that people are choosing favourite characters, so far the Cobra, Key and Emer have the votes!
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mullermilkshake · 1 day
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Pseudo Suguru Geto
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SPOILERS
Appearances aren't always what they seem.
“Prison realm. Gate open.”
The giant square of skinless muscle opened, its singular eye wide open, showing you your fate. It glared at you, staring straight into your soul. It convulsed, vibrating like a quivering leaf.
“What- what is this?” You took a step backwards, unable to avoid its gaze, still and unnerving.
“It took so long to find you. You've been quite a nuisance.”
You recognised the voice, but it was laced with uncertainty. Would you dare to turn? Could you entertain the idea of any other eyes than the giant, ominous pupil sat in front of you?
You turned. “W-wait. No way. This can’t be-”
Suguru Geto. 
You saw him die, watching on from the sidelines, his wrist going limp and drawing last breath. There was no way he could have been standing in front of you now.
But he was.
“Long time no see.” Suguru smiled, his hand moved in a gentle wave.
Geto’s eyes were there, but then, they weren’t. They didn’t have the same love they usually had. He looked the same as he did when you last met, but the line of stitches on his forehead said otherwise. 
“It can’t be you.” You said, stepping back a fraction. “I saw you die I- Satoru killed-”
“Satoru isn’t the best at commitment is he?”
Suguru took a step getting much closer now, he was in arms reach. You could touch his cheek if you wanted. But this time wasn’t like those other times. 
“Who are you?”
“You know who I am.”
“No. Even up to Suguru’s death, he never gave me the unease you’re giving me now.”
He chuckled, fiddling with his forehead. “ You were always so clever, weren’t you?”
You gasped, putting your hand to your mouth to stop the sickness. The top of his head came away, clean and precise. His maniacal smile never faltered. 
“That’s exactly what Satoru Gojo said too. It seems I can’t fool everyone.”
A brain. His brain smiled with him, transparent goo dripped down his cheeks like it was being preserved artificially. It looked painful. You heaved and your hand clenched at your stomach in hopes to stop the chain-reaction. 
Everything was fucked. This thing was parading a dead man around you, a carcass of someone you loved. Your retching turned to sobs, you pushed him away but he stayed where he was.
“Where is he, where is Satoru? What have you done with him?!” 
“He’s in a safe place.” He paused, his smile still remained. “Now it’s just a matter of where to put you.”
Read more on my Ao3! <3
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annawayne · 2 days
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Annaaaaaaaaaaaaaa T^T I hope you're doing alright today! Did you bake anything new recently!
For the writer's ask btw: 1, 4, 5, 8, 12, 14, 15, 23, 27 :3
Do it, tell me all about it! And I hope you have a great week :3 Thank you for blessing us with all your beautiful art and love T^T
Moon, hello (⁠。⁠・⁠ω⁠・⁠。⁠)⁠ノ⁠♡
Thank you a lot for asking, and OH MY, that's a lot, but don't get me wrong, I appreciate your interest a lot T^T
Let me first tell you about baking: I baked only the plum pie recently, and it's already gone... But I plan to bake pumpkin muffins with orange cream soon :3
As for the questions:
1 - the last sentence you wrote
I've already answered this one a bit earlier here, but as I got around to answer your question, here's another sentences that I actually wrote the last one:
"I wonder, why can’t we notice… until we’ve lost it already?"
👀
4 - a story idea you haven’t written yet
Oh, I have this one story idea in my mind, based on this one art...
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Can't say much without spoilering , but this story has some angsty development. Like, very angsty.
Other than this, it's also a story about how AruAni met and fell in love, so some kind of strangers to lovers, with a lot of immediate attraction and interest, all set in Switzerland, 1911.
The caption in the original post - "It was the love at first sight" - is a leitmotif of this whole story.
I've been thinking about it while working on this drawing, and I didn't consider writing it, but the more time passes - the more I think that, eventually, I'll write it...
5 - first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP
Uhm... Well, I think, the chapter 10 of MYLYSW counts for now, yes? If yes, so here we are:
"How to breathe without feeling the burden of the mission to be fulfilled; how to sleep without all the images of the world through the eyes of others; how to say a word without feeling obliged to remember a promise to come back; how to look at the sun and see in it the beauty of another day borning out of the velvet darkness of the night into the golden sunrise, and not to cross out another twenty-four hours out of one hundred and thirteen thousand nine hundred fifty-five hours of defined expiration of her."
Me and my damn love for the long sentences...
8 - if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…
Oh, good question! I don't really have a lot of fics, but I think I would love to write for Neverland of (Our) Desires, the Fort Salta oneshot-sequel, where AruAni are caught in feelings and have an awkward-silly conversation about their boat *adventure*, with all these emotions and feelings of having the life ahead of them and not knowing what to do with it... Oh well, oh well, such a potential 🤌
12 - a trope you’re really into right now
Hm... Honestly, I've been into Forbidden Love or Star-crossed Lovers tropes recently...
It's quite canonical AruAni, to be honest, and I just love to think about it in different AUs and canon-compliant too, so yes, I would say these ones! And here a remark, that Forbidden Love/Star-crossed Lovers don't mean that it's a tragic ending - more like obstacles and a lot of angst, which challenge the characters and their love, and how it all develops within the plot.
14 - where do you get your inspiration?
You know, I thought I had a proper answer for it, but when I started typing it, I realized, that, in fact, I don't.
If I'm totally honest - I don't think I even have something special as "inspiration". I have ideas that pop up in my mind on their own, and then, I turn them into story or a moment in the fic, but I never particularly searched for it. I suppose, it's also a consequence of my constant art and literature involving, where I read/observe/study something, so I have this almost never-stopping source of new experience and knowledge, which leads to ideas and inspiration to create my own stories/drawings.
So, I think that my inspiration is constant studying and sources of knowledge.
15 - favorite weather for writing
Answered here :3
23 - pick three keywords that describe your writing
Moon, what a question *sigh*... Let's say:
evocative, raw and poetic
I thought of what to answer you on this particular question because it's a bit difficult for me to evaluate my own writing style, but I also remembered the words I received about it (including your wonderful feedback), and I guess, it helped me to pick these particular keywords.
27 - your favorite part of the writing process
Answered here, too :3
Thank you a lot for your interest and support, Moon, I wish you all the best and take care🖤
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yaminerua · 2 years
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i keep on thinking of chibita starting to write love letters to karamatsu - partly because he finds writing his feelings out anonymously helps him channel all that emotional energy that’s started to build up because having nowhere to vent it is beginning to drive him nuts.
So he writes his feelings out, in a way that’s honest but vague enough for Karamatsu not to be able to figure out it’s from him if he were to find it. And he doesn’t intend initially for him to read it at all at first. But then he thinks it would potentially give Karamatsu an edge over his brothers. Some kind of victory. An encouragement of sorts. And then before he can think too deeply on all the ways this could go horribly wrong, he sends it in the mail, not daring to run the risk of being caught sending it personally.
And on the morning that it arrives, Jyushimatsu picks it up, along with the rest of the mail. He shuffles through it all as he heads back through the house, seeing that it’s mostly just the usual stuff.. a random magazine, more of Choromatsu’s idol fan-club stuff, boring-looking letters for the parents...and... hmm?? A letter? For Karamatsu? That’s new.
And like... remember how in the episode with Hatabou’s birthday Jyushi could tell the invitation was from Hatabou because it smelled like Hatabou? I figure Jyushi at this point would already know it’s from Chibita because it smells like him.
He joins the others and loudly declares that there’s a letter for Karamatsu. This, of course, catches everyone’s attention. Somebody remarks “Yeah right, who would bother writing to Shittymatsu?”
Karamatsu, who was sort of sitting staring dramatically out the window as if that makes him look deep and thoughtful and mysterious, is now staring in disbelief at Jyushimatsu. He takes the letter from him and can feel everyone watching him out of the corner of their eyes as he curiously opens the envelope and takes out the little folded letter.
There’s silence as he reads through what’s written on it but the look on his face is rapidly evolving. He looks like he’s going to cry from joy and when he’s finally done he presses the letter to his chest and starts rambling about how some shy and surely beautiful angel has finally chosen to convey her feelings to him. His Karamatsu Girl has arrived at last.
And everyone’s like what the shit!? Osomatsu snatches the letter out of Kara’s hands and scans his gaze across what’s written there, his face contorting as he finds that it is indeed a love letter to karamatsu.
There follows a short period of the letter passing from brother to brother before it finally ends up in Jyushimatsu’s hands again. He’s got a peculiar look on his face as he sniffs the paper just to be sure he hadn’t got it wrong earlier. But no, it still smells like Chibita to him.
Karamatsu’s exasperated at this point. He would like the letter from his secret admirer safely back in his own hands now and stares beseechingly at Jyushi to hand it back to him. And Jyushi pauses, looks like he’s going to say something but then seems to change his mind and simply hands the letter back over with an innocent “Congratulations Karamatsu-niisan!”
Nothing more is said on the matter. The brothers go back to ignoring Karamatsu as best they can because his immense joy over this letter is already starting to get to them. But Ichi is more concerned with Jyushi’s peculiar behaviour. “You know who it’s from don’t you?” he asks him privately at one point.
And Jyushi thinks of telling him. But instead he just says he thought he did at first but was wrong. He doesn’t want to spoil Karamatsu’s joy. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t actually from Chibita after all..
Some time later though.. they’re all dining out at Chibita’s cart and oh boy Karamatsu is talking a lot tonight isn’t he? Waxing poetic about how sincere his anonymous angel’s confessions of love were and how he awaits the day they can meet face to face. And how he greatly wishes the sender had left him a means of contacting them.
Jyushi’s gaze is fixed on Chibita the entire time, who seems just a little bit awkward tonight. He’s definitely trying to change the subject and it’s just making Jyushimatsu more suspicious about whether his previous assumptions had been correct after all... and when they’re making to leave he hangs back a little, giving Chibita that owl-like stare of his for a few moments before Choromatsu calls for him to hurry up.
It unnerves him, but not any more than Jyushimatsu usually would.
So Chibita keeps writing the letters even after that first one, but after a while he starts to think it was a bad idea. Whenever Karamatsu comes by the cart all he seems to talk about is the latest letter, and how he wishes his shy admirer would allow him to speak with them. And it’s kind of heartbreaking. Because Chibita’s the one writing those letters and Karamatsu has no idea. But he’s certain things would not go well if he discovered the truth. Especially after the look Karamatsu gave him when he interrupted one of his rambles with a noticeably irritable ‘How do you even know it’s a Karamatsu Girl anyway?’ He’d gone so quiet after that which only served to suggest to him that the prospect of such a thing was preposterous.
So he resigns himself to it and just has to sit and endure this and try to decide whether or not he should stop writing them... This can’t go on forever after all.. It’s not even fair on Karamatsu... getting his hopes up only to never actually go beyond that.. To tease him with the promise of a love that he’ll never be allowed to meet with...
And idk I want Jyushi to have some sort of part in getting the confusions and gaps in the communication closed up.
Karamatsu is understandably miserable once the letters do stop. Chibita’s feeling no better... but it was for the best. And eventually, after seeing both sides wilting as this goes on and on, Jyushimatsu finally decides to tell Karamatsu about what he’s known for months now. Because anything is better than letting this atmosphere fester any longer. But Karamatsu doesn’t believe him, because why would Chibita do something like that? And Jyushimatsu doesn’t have an answer to that, he’ll just have to ask Chibita.
When he says this to Chibita himself tho, it causes Chibita to drop a plate in shock and just freeze up. And Karamatsu misreads the reaction like, ‘yeah, unbelievable right?”
And Chibita laughs awkwardly as he gathers up the broken pieces of the plate he dropped but it’s a laugh completely devoid of amusement...
There’s an anxious pulse that’s entered his system now and it just keeps going round and round until finally, he can stand it no longer. If Karamatsu’s going to keep talking about this it’s just going to drive him nuts. If he has to keep this a secret any longer he’s going to explode.... Karamatsu deserves to know the truth.. no matter what response the truth provokes...
So as Kara makes to leave to allow Chibita to close up for the night, Chibita halts him, shouting out so suddenly into the night air that it makes Kara jump.
And he comes clean with it. He confesses to the fact that he indeed was the one writing all those letters. That he thought it was a good idea and would maybe be good for Karamatsu and that he didn’t mean for it to wind up like this. It comes out all at once in a long emotional and frustrated ramble and through all of it Chibita cannot look Karamatsu in the eye, instead choosing to busy himself with hurriedly packing things away and keeping his gaze averted and at the end when he finally runs out of breath he stands there with his head bowed and bitter tears gathering at the corners of his eyes because dammit this is such a mess....
And Karamatsu is very quiet as he processes everything he’s just heard and when Chibita finally risks a glance at him his expression is completely unreadable.
He doesn’t wait to find out what his response is. In truth he feels ready to just throw himself down onto his futon at home and scream into his pillow for the rest of the night. Gaze turned to the ground he offers an awkward apology and pulls his cart off in the direction of home leaving Karamatsu still standing shell-shocked and staring after him... his mind still in the process of computing all this new information and what it means...
When he gets home he reads through all the letters again, refreshing his memory of everything that was written there and allowing those words to blend in with the knowledge that the hand that wrote them belonged to Chibita... and to figure out how he feels about that.
Did Chibita mean what he wrote in these? Were those words genuine? Or was it just like he’d said, just doing this to make Karamatsu feel better and give him an edge over his brothers?? That’s an important distinction... He finds he really wants to - needs to - know which is true. Did Chibita really feel those things? Or was he just writing things he thought Karamatsu would like to hear from someone else? Does Chibita... maybe… love him???
The mere thought quickens his heartbeat... it brings a strange fluttery feeling to his gut and a dryness to his mouth and causes a whole flood of other feelings to fill him up all at once - some of them oddly familiar... and he could almost kick himself for being so blind and never noticing them within himself before whenever he and Chibita had been in each other’s company. He was fond of him before, yes. But the more he thinks about this situation now, the more he realises that perhaps ‘fond’ is too weak a word to use...
And with that realisation, he also knows what he wants the outcome of this to be.. And it all depends on Chibita.
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chika-nyan · 1 year
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Lies down. So it looks like my job is actively trying to moorder me so I’ll probably be mostly ded for a while. Honestly at a breaking point, can you believe vacation was just last month? :) Gonna keep doing my best to hold on for that mid-late spring exit/quitting time with next vacation but it’s going to be a trial forsure.
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exopelagic · 6 months
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i will not panic abt my exams
#it will be fine actually#I’m stressed bc they’re in. a month now like a month from today and I’ll be done#but that just means I have a whole month to be making notes I can do a lot in a month#I’m going home on Friday which is stressing me out but it’s just one week I’ll go Friday and leave Saturday/Sunday#and if I can do a handful of lectures while I’m at home that’ll be a useful step no matter what#i can probably focus on like molecular ones which are easier to structure bc I just need to pull out the mechanisms#tomorrow I just gotta read up on two topics really and then I can write the dumb mock exam which I won’t be able to do at home bc its 4 hour#I hate that we have to do that especially bc it’s got shit evil questions but whatever#and I can’t feel bad abt being slow to get back into this bc im an animal with a body and it takes a while to get back into Anything#and I’m worried abt the exam yes bc of how it went last year when I was unprepared but 1) I won’t be THAT degree of unprepared this year#2) it is unlikely that i get as insanely unlucky as I did last year#fucking hell I just. don’t think I’m made for this kinda system I can’t make myself work in it#every single term of my degree so far I’ve been fighting to keep up with everything and had no time to properly prepare for the exams#and then scraped it by working off a baseline level of being good at putting ideas together quickly and strategically working last minute#on whatever will give me the best shot at getting what I need but that’s not possible in these two exams bc I have over 100 lectures to know#I can’t do 100 lectures in a month. it’s just not possible but what I can probably do is summarise some important bits for like half of them#I think I’m bad at the whole sustained effort on a big task over a long period of time#bc this is so huge that there’s no way for me to see progress or move on to anything new bc it’s just. a stack of 100 lectures to deal with#I HOPE I’m better at dealing with project next year bc i think it’ll be more task based#and like I can watch the lectures the first time round bc there’s a set thing to do and an end point#I have genuinely no idea how to approach this in a way that will be useful achievable AND get enough done within the time I have#anyway I can’t stress abt it now bc I have to go to the shop and then home to cook. so#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA#luke.txt
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autism-disco · 10 months
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i like when they change the time signature a lot it sounds nice (time is too late to have complex problems)
#in my defence i have been asleep and then i woke up and it’s now and i have lots to do still#will just do the geigeaphg and maybe etjte dynamics on my performance pieces but ehh who really cares#other than the mark scheme asking for a clear range of dynamics ig well oh well#bdbdbhhhhhh it’s cold i can’t do anything if it’s cold#vvvsvdvdvvvvdvvvvvvvvv tomorrow today could be interesting maybe#um certainly not up for it and i need to be in like what 4 hours ish little bit more#seeems doable i already got like around 2 1/2 hours (in the floor as now but i did sleep so it’s something)#there was something i needed to say and i don’t remember what that’s irritating what do i need to say#i don’t think i’ll be there at lunchtime tomorrow ?? but it’s still not a fact of 100% certainty?#didn’t get more hot chocolate last night sadly#ok i’m in a sort of weird position where i’m not completely exhausted ie i am thinking congruent thoughts#but i am also falling asleep and terrified someone is watching me as i lie on the floor under the blanket#why are days so long so j can’t wear the binder to school healthily and i mean evidently that’s the sole issue#tomorrow tomorrow whatever happens happens need to find geography teacher first thing#ok sorry this wasn’t even an interesting read i’m sorry i hope you’re alright i’m gonna be fine just a bit more tired#i’ll just do geography and then go to bed yeah that’ll work#uh if you are seeing this at this time go to sleep go to sleep please i highly recommend it#ok gingham to one of you <3 and goodnight to the fabled other people who see my posts#ezra’s real life rambles#silly hours posting
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spideyjimin · 3 months
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Before you | jjk
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⤷ part of the dads universe
⏤ pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x female reader 
⏤ genre: friends to lovers, angst, fluff, and smut 
⏤ rating: 18+
⏤ warnings: dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, long-haired!jungkook, pregnancy, mention of abortion, sexual tension, alcohol consumption, a lot of making out, finger sucking, thigh riding, masturbation, aftercare, mention of oral sex, swearing, some teasing, pet names, pregnancy kink, praising, a bit of jealousy, hickeys, handjob, semi-public sex, penetrative sex, protected sex, rough sex, creampie, overstimulation, and multiple orgasms 
⏤ words: 16,354
⏤ summary: jungkook has taken a huge place in your life after he tattooed you, and you can’t even picture how life was before him. he has always been there for you since day one. but how will things change after you find out you’re pregnant?   
⏤ author’s note: so guys, yesterday i tried to post this but it was a complete mess 😫 hopefully today it works without any issues! in any case, i’m happy to post this fic once more, especially since a lot of you asked for it 💜 it was a bit odd to read something i wrote years ago but it was at the same time intriguing because i’ve changed since i wrote it. hope you’ll like it 💜
MASTERLIST
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OCTOBER 5, 2018
In a few minutes, Jungkook is coming.
You’re in your bathroom with a pregnancy test in your hands. Yong-ji, your best friend has convinced you in some way to do it, she thinks that you don’t have the flu. For the past week, you have had all the symptoms of the flu and you stayed home to rest a bit. But she doesn’t think that’s what you have. 
Before you can even see the result, there’s a knock on your door. Jungkook. 
He has no idea that you’re taking that pregnancy test, Yong-ji herself is not even aware. After she insisted several times, you told her that you wouldn’t do it. Unlike her, you’re convinced that you’re not pregnant. 
You leave the bathroom, put the test in the corner of the sink, and run to the door to open it for your friend. Jungkook has been around for a bit more than a year, and he has been one of your closest friends lately. Always there when you need him the most. And you’re just grateful to have met him. 
“You look so pale,” he comments when he sees you. 
“Hello to you too, JK,” you say, smiling back at him. “Come on in.” 
His eyes look at you with concern before entering your small apartment. It’s not huge, unfortunately, you’re not rich yet but it’s so comfy. You liked this apartment the second you first saw it because it was what you needed. 
“I brought some things to eat,” he says while walking to the kitchen with a little bag in his hands. “I guess you didn’t eat anything today.” 
That man understands you as nobody does. Although your friendship is very recent, he probably knows you better than Yong-ji who has been your friend for six years. You wonder how that's even possible. 
You’re just behind him, following him into the kitchen, and he puts his handbag on the small table. Today, Jungkook is wearing a sweater with black skinny jeans, and you know for sure that under his sweater, he’s wearing an oversized t-shirt that he wore all day at work.   
“How was your day?” you ask, trying to change the topic of your conversation. 
Your friend turns back to catch a glance at you before he raises an eyebrow. He’s perfectly aware that you didn’t eat anything during the day and that you’re changing the topic of conversation because you don’t want him to get worrier. Since you’re sick, he’s not going to say anything.  
“The same as always,” he says while rolling his eyes. “Clients came, I made a bunch of tattoos and I barely had the time to work on some projects.”
This last year, he has gained tons of new clients and he’s busy tattooing them most of the day. Before, he used to find some time to work on projects, but now, he doesn’t have that time. 
“You should find a partner to help you out with the clients,” you propose. 
Jungkook has already considered it but he doesn’t want to hire someone just to have more free time. He wants someone that can truly help him with the shop and the rest, and he’s convinced that it’s not going to be easy. 
“I’m too picky and you know it,” he grabs a fry from the bag and eats it. 
“Then, don’t be,” you answer, crossing your arms over your chest. 
He rolls his eyes as he takes off the food from the bag and places it on your table. “I don’t want some shitty person to tattoo my clients. So, I'm going to be picky and you're going to support me.” 
You open a drawer, taking two sets of chopsticks with two spoons before putting them on the table. You both sit in front of the other. 
Your eyes get lost in his for a split minute. At first, he might seem the cold type of person. His body is covered with tattoos, his hair is pushed into a man-bun, his fingers are covered with rings and he has some earrings. But it’s just appearances. This man is the sweetest and most caring person you’ve ever met.
A lot of your friends asked you if something is going on between you and Jungkook but you have never seen the man in front of you as more than a friend. Even the thought of it never crossed your mind.   
“But it was a good day,” he says, looking down at his food before he eats some rice. “All the clients were super nice and there was even a cute girl.” 
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by the cute girl he met today. Jungkook's love life is quite calm. He's not the type to fuck every girl he sees, he prefers to date, fall in love, and take the time to love. He's just the romantic type of guy. 
“Don't look at me like that, yn,” he says, pointing a chopstick at you. “You’re too curious.” 
He sighs in defeat knowing that no matter what he’s going to tell you everything, and that’s what he likes about your friendship. You understand and know each other so well even though you’ve been friends for only a year, but it feels like you’ve known the other for like an eternity.    
“I just want to know what happened,” you say with a big smile on your face.
“We just talked and she asked me to call her one day,” he notices that you haven’t touched your food yet. “You should eat.” 
You take a bit of rice and eat it. Lately, it’s the only thing that you’ve been able to eat without throwing up. 
“And?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going to call her?” 
Jungkook is hesitating. Yes, she’s cute and physically, she’s his type. But not too long ago, he was seeing a girl that just left him suddenly because she got back with her ex. He liked her quite a lot and he doesn’t feel ready to go back through all the date nights and the flirting things. 
“Don’t know yet,” he says nonchalantly. 
“You should call her, Kookie. You need to see somebody else other than me,” you tell him. 
“That’s not true, I see Namjoon and Yoongi,” you roll your eyes as he mentions his roommates. 
But Jungkook doesn’t spend too much time at his place with his roommates, he’s mostly with you because he loves to be around you, he loves how you make him feel. Oddly, you make him feel at home. He has never felt that with anybody else and he cherishes your friendship so much. 
His eyes linger on your left arm, smiling as he sees the reason that brought you two together. 
More than a year ago, you decided to get a tattoo and a friend advised you to go to Jungkook. You did some research about him and his work, reading a lot of opinions about him. After a while, you decided that he was the one, he was going to be the one who would do your first tattoo.
For Jungkook, you were just another client, nothing more. But you were kind of scared and nervous, and during the whole time, he was comforting you. It was the first time he was doing it. Usually, his clients hide their fears and put a brave smile on their faces. 
When you saw the lion on your arm, you were so proud and so thankful that he did it. It was just perfect, even better than you had pictured it. 
As he was doing it, he asked you why you chose to tattoo a lion. ‘The lion is known to be the strongest animal, and to me, this tattoo will represent my strength. It will remind me that no matter what life throws at me, I have to be strong.’ 
And he liked it. He liked how you’d look beyond the piece of art on your arm. He liked how he was not just tattooing a simple lion on an arm, he was tattooing your strength. After that, you naturally stayed in touch and you’re just happy to have met him.   
“And did you get any news from Minho?” 
Minho is a guy that you met some weeks ago and with whom you had a lot of fun. It was ephemeral but you had the time of your life with him. You don’t regret anything, you’re just sad that now, it’s over. 
You knew it was never going to last because you are both from two completely different worlds. You’re just a simple girl that barely manages to have some money at the end of the month while he’s one of the wealthiest men in the country. 
He's Park Minho, the son of the one and only Park Joonki. He has tons of holdings around the world and he controls basically everything in Korea. He’s truly very powerful, and the chances that you’d stay in a serious relationship with Minho were very low. 
“Nope, and I don’t think I’ll ever hear from him again.” 
“I thought he liked you a lot,” he says while eating. 
You furrow your eyebrows, not understanding. Jungkook was the first one to say to be careful with this kind of guy, and now, he’s kind of being nice to him. 
“He looked at you affectionately, but I just wanted you to be careful.” 
“In the end, we all knew this was just us having fun and nothing more,” you say. 
Even if you’re sad that it ended, you’re kind of grateful that it ended now. Otherwise, you know you would have started hoping for things, and the end of whatever you had with Minho would have been harder for you. 
“You truly deserve someone who loves you like all stars and the moon love nights.” 
A big and bright smile appears on your pale face, and Jungkook swears he has never seen anything prettier. Sometimes, he realizes that he looks at you like a man completely in love. Those moments are not very frequent but when they happen, they hit him hard and it’s very intense. 
You wonder if he knows the way his words make your heart stutter in your chest. But then you start to wonder why you’re even feeling such things for him, Jungkook is just your closest friend. But it's the first time that something touches you that much, not even your exes managed to make you feel that way. 
“Thanks, Kook,” you say, “and you deserve someone that loves you like Juliet loves Romeo.” 
Juliet and Romeo have a tragic love story, but they deeply loved each other. To you, Jungkook deserves to be loved with the same intensity. He deserves someone that would give his heart and soul to him because he’s the best human you’ve ever met. 
“That’s tragic,” he replies. 
You feel the urge to stand up and sit on his lap to caress his dark hair, but it would feel weird since he’s just your best friend. 
“Yes, but she truly and deeply loved him. That’s the love that you deserve.” 
His heart squeezes, and he looks away, feeling uncomfortable to glance straight into your eyes. He never thought that you’ll reply to his comment but he’s just happy you did.   
“Just reach out to that girl, okay?” 
Maybe she’s the one, maybe she’s the girl that Jungkook is meant to be with but he’ll never know it if he doesn’t call her. He raises his head up before nodding. 
“Now, eat. You’re scaring me with that pale face.” 
As he mentions your pale face, you remember the damn pregnancy test. But now isn’t probably the best moment to go and check out the result. You don’t want to worry Jungkook for silly things right now because you’re still convinced that you’re not pregnant. 
“I just have to go to the bathroom,” you say as you stand up and walk in the direction of the bathroom. 
As you enter the small room, you close the door behind you. Your heart is beating hard and fast. Although you think you’re not pregnant, you don’t know how you’ll react if it’s positive. 
You close your eyes and grab the test, your hands are shaking with nervousness. Even if you think that the result will be negative, the thought that it can be positive scares you, and that’s why you close your eyes. The truth is that you don’t even know if you want to open your eyes. 
What would happen if it is positive? What would you become if you’re indeed pregnant? Your life would completely change and you’re just not ready for that kind of change. Two years ago, you left your parents’ house because you wanted to pursue your dream of becoming a lawyer. Your career is on the rise, and a baby would completely ruin it. 
You most probably would have to come back to your parents’ house, and you’re not even sure if they will accept to help you. Having a baby out of a marriage and with someone that you’re not even dating would be seen as a shame for your family.      
Your heart is pounding more and more, it almost feels like it’s about to leave your chest. This simple test can completely change your life. 
“You need to see it, yn,” you whisper to yourself.  
You gather all the strength you have, wanting to know if your life will in fact change forever or if it’ll stay the same. Slowly, you open your eyes. The first thing you see is the reflection of your face in the mirror in front of you. What instantly catches your attention is how sick you look, no wonder that Jungkook seems worried. 
Your eyes gaze down at your fragile and shaking hands that are holding the pregnancy test. A loud cry leaves your mouth and tears roll down your face when you see the result.  
Jungkook runs to the bathroom as he hears you but you have completely locked yourself inside and he can’t open the door. He’s trying to get in because he needs to see you and understand what is going on.  
“Yn,” he says as he’s trying to open the door. “What happened?” 
Your hands let go of the test, making it fall on the ground, and your legs start shaking, barely being able to hold your body. The tears run faster down your face. 
The test is positive. Yongji was right, a human being is indeed growing inside of you. 
It feels like your entire world just collapsed under your feet and nothing could ever fix it. A baby is growing inside you, a human life has been created and that life will forever change your life. You’ll have to carry them for nine months and then, take care of them forever because they will depend entirely on you. 
The fact that you’re pregnant is more than a shock for you. You always took all the precautions for something like that to not happen. All the times you had sex with Minho, he was wearing a condom. You always made sure of it, at least, that's what you thought until today. 
Now, as your world is entirely falling apart, you remember one special night, a night that you had forgotten. Minho came to your apartment after a huge argument with his parents, he was really mad and you both drank a lot of wine. 
His parents wanted him to get back with Yeri and to marry her as soon as possible. Yeri, his ex, is the daughter of another powerful man in Korea. The union of both families will be the best thing. 
But Minho didn't want to be a puppet in his father's hands, he wanted to do things his own way. He wanted to marry the woman that he loves, it was not in his plans to marry just someone because his father craves more power. 
You drank for sure a lot that night and had sex on the couch. You were both so needy of each other, and you can’t remember if you used protection. However, it seems like it wasn’t the case. 
“Yn,” Jungkook calls you again, “open the door, please.” Hearing the concern in his voice breaks your heart. “Please, yn,” he begs, “I’m worried.” 
Jungkook rests his forehead against the door and he finally hears you sobbing and crying. It instantly shatters his heart. He wants to break the door to hold you tight in his arms. 
“My life is over,” you mumble as you cry. “Completely over.” 
He sits on the floor, his back against the door and he closes his eyes. He doesn’t understand what happened and why you suddenly say that.
“What happened?” he dares to ask. 
Your eyes now rest on the door before you sit on the floor and take a deep breath. To say that your life is completely over is an understatement for you. Your parents won’t ever accept you if you have a child without even being married, you’ll be the ugly duckling of the family. They’ll for sure reject you. 
How are you going to tell them that? You never introduced them to a single boy and now, you have to tell them that you’re pregnant with the wealthiest man in the country.  
“I am pregnant.” 
Jungkook is surprised. He knows how careful you are because your career has always been your priority, and having a baby right now was not on your plans. Plus, he knows how important it was for you to get married before having kids. 
“Minho?” he asks just to be sure. 
“Yes.” 
Your confirmation breaks his heart once again. Your friend knows that there’s no hope that Minho would help you with this. 
“Everything is over for me, Kook,” you cry even more now. “My parents will disgrace me, and Minho will never recognize this child as his because of his family.”        
The reality is hard to admit and it will be so hard to face this situation all by yourself. You’ll be completely alone in this and your baby will never know their families, they’ll just know you.
“I’ll be alone in this,” you add. 
You’re convinced your family will let you down because you’ll have a baby out of marriage. 
“No,” he replies straight away. “I’ll be by your side and I’ll never leave you.”
Even if you’re grateful for his presence, he can’t change the fact that it’s not going to be an easy thing.  
“It’s not the same, Kook,” you reply. 
Your friend is perfectly aware that he can’t ever replace the fact that Minho will never be present or that your family will most probably leave you. 
“Let me in, yn.” 
Right now, you just want to be alone in this bathroom for the rest of your life. 
“I want to hug you and comfort you.” 
After some seconds of hesitation, you finally open the door to fall in his arms. Nothing can comfort you at this moment, not even his strong arms holding you tight and pressing you against his body. Nothing. 
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OCTOBER 6, 2018 
Yesterday, Jungkook stayed with you until you fell asleep in his arms. He didn’t want to leave you in this state, you were a mess and as your friend, he felt like it was his duty to be by your side. 
Jungkook didn’t sleep much during the night, thinking too much about your situation. He wants to help you as much as he can but he feels like there is nothing that he can do. He feels like the only thing he can do is to powerlessly watch your life fall completely apart. But that’s something he can’t accept.  
Someone knocks at your door, and without much willingness, you open it. To your surprise, it is Jungkook. You thought that he was going to leave you alone for a little while, giving you the time to adjust to your new reality. 
“Hi,” he says while entering your apartment. “I haven’t slept much and drank too much coffee before coming.” 
That explains why he looks tired and why his eyes are red. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” you frown while you close the door. 
Jungkook finally turns and looks at you. You seem even worse than yesterday, which is totally understandable.
“I canceled all my appointments for the morning,” he replies and you look at him with worry. 
Why did he do that? He hates to do it. Even when he’s sick, he works because he hates to disappoint his clients. ‘There must be something really important that he needs to do,’ you thought.
You come closer to him, crossing your arms over your chest. His heart is pounding fast and now, he’s wondering if what he has in mind is actually a good idea.  
“I’ll be the father,” he quickly says, causing you to raise an eyebrow, not sure you understood what he just said. 
“What?” 
He takes a step in your direction, closing the space between the two of you. “Minho will never recognize your baby. His father will never let him do that, or he’ll make sure to make you disappear just to hide the mistake of his perfect son.” 
For that, you totally agree with him. Park Joonki will do everything in his power to hide you and your baby, and power is something that he has in abundance. 
“Your baby will grow up without a father figure, and I’ll be by your side as long as we live. I am your closest male friend and most probably, your baby will end up seeing me as their father.” 
For Jungkook, the chances that your baby ends up calling him ‘dad’ are very high. 
“Nobody needs to know that Minho is the biological father,” he says as he takes one of your hands in his. “And I think for your safety, it’s better if nobody knows.” 
You just can’t believe that he’s ready to do this for you. What kind of friend is he? A superhero? You don’t clearly know yet, but the simple fact that he wants to help and protect you just proves that he’s the best person you’ve ever met. 
“You know, I was actually thinking of hiding it from Minho and his super-powerful family,” you mention while caressing his hand. “It’ll be easier for everyone.” 
“No, yn, it’s not going to be easy for you,” he replies. “And for the baby.” 
You still can’t believe that inside of you a human being is growing and that one day, you’ll birth them. That same person will be a part of you and they’ll only exist thanks to you. It’s just incredible but it feels like it is just too much for you at the moment. 
“I can’t just let you take a role that is not yours,” you say to him. “I can’t let you be the father of a child that is not even biologically yours, and I won’t let you sacrifice your life because I was careless.” 
You just can’t accept this. Jungkook will have to put on hold his romantic life because he’ll be too busy to be the father of someone else’s baby. 
“I’m not sacrificing my life, yn,” he shakes his head. “I just can’t sit and watch your life fall apart. Minho will probably never accept to be the father of your baby, and we don’t know yet how your family will react. But I know one thing, no matter what, this situation will destroy you.” 
You close your eyes, trying to hold back some tears. This is already destroying you. You’re going to be a mother, a moment that is supposed to be the happiest one of your life, and yet, you’re losing everything because of it. 
“My love life is dead, and sometimes, I even wonder if girls look beyond my body. They just want to have sex with me because I look like a bad boy when it’s not what I am looking for in life,” he explains. “So, I’ll be the father of your baby for you.” 
“No, Jungkook,” you shake your head and turn your back to him. “I won’t let you sacrifice everything.” 
You feel his body pressed against yours, his head resting on your shoulder and his arms enveloping your body in his strong arms. 
“I am proposing this to you, I thought about it a lot and I am just ready to do it,” he murmurs in your ear. “I’ll do anything for you, yn.” 
Those last words send shivers down your spine. 
“But I’ll give you some time to think about it, and when you’ll feel ready, you’ll just give me an answer,” he whispers and you nod. 
You stay in each other's arms for a while, enjoying the presence of the other. 
If you accept his proposition, you know that Jungkook will be an excellent father. He’s just so carrying and loving, and having him as their father will for sure be a good thing. But there is no need to recognize them as his child. No matter what you decide, he’ll be the father figure of your baby. 
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OCTOBER 13, 2018
A week passed since Jungkook proposed to you that weird idea. 
You’ve come back to work, trying to keep your mind busy and to not think only about your pregnancy. At the moment, nobody knows that you’re pregnant. You just don’t know what to do, you’re just too lost. You decided that until you haven’t decided yet what to do with Jungkook’s proposition, you won’t tell anything to anyone. 
Not even Yongji is aware of the fact that she was right all along. 
When you enter the restaurant, you see your friend sitting at a table alone, and you join him. A bright smile stretches across his lips as he sees you coming. For the first time in a week, you’re smiling. A smile that only Jungkook can bring out. 
You haven’t seen him in a week because you didn’t want his presence to influence your decision. You knew that his big doe eyes would influence you or even his presence. With him, you always feel safe and happy. He’d make you say ‘yes’ in a heartbeat.  
But it feels good to see him after all this time. Life felt empty without him by your side and time seemed to move slowly. You missed him, more than a lot.   
He quickly stands up and he pushes back the chair in front of him so that you can take a seat. “Hi, yn!”  
As your eyes linger on him, you notice how his dark long hair is partially pushed back, revealing his undercut, and he’s wearing a white cotton shirt instead of his usual sweaters. It’s a slightly see-through shirt as some of his tattoos can be seen, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s wearing it on purpose. Is he teasing you? 
You swipe that thought away, you’re convinced that Jungkook only loves you like a friend and that he wouldn’t do such a thing.   
“Hello, Kook.” 
Being now in front of him, you can smell his strong perfume. Y Eau de Parfum from Yves Saint-Laurent. You offered him that perfume some time ago, and since then, he has been putting it but only on special events. 
Knowing it makes you feel special. So special. 
You take a seat, your smile never fading away. The knuckles of his fingers brush against your back, giving you goosebumps. This is for sure new for you, never have you felt that with Jungkook. 
Quickly, he walks to his chair and sits in front of you. Although your bodies are still a bit far from the other, his knees skim yours, giving you more goosebumps.     
“Wow, you look all good!” you say with a bright smile on your face. 
“You look even better,” he licks his lips as his eyes look down on you. 
From the moment you entered that restaurant, Jungkook couldn’t keep his eyes off you.  
Since you were going out with your best friend, you decided to put on a beige dress with long sleeves. It’s a beautiful dress that you use quite often when you go out and you know Jungkook likes it. That’s actually the reason you’re wearing it. It’s cold outside, at this time of the year, it’s always too cold, and so, you’re also wearing long boots. 
From the outside, it really looks like you’re both on a date while you’re just going to decide about the future of your baby.  
“Why a restaurant?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow. 
Yesterday, you asked him if it’d be possible to meet tonight at a restaurant. Usually, you both don’t go out alone, there is also someone else but you simply want to get out of your apartment for just a moment. 
“Just wanted to be out of my apartment.” 
His eyes are filled with a lot of brightness, it’s like they are sparkling, and you feel something inside you that you can’t quite explain. It’s like it is the first time that you’re seeing your friend, and this feeling inside you is something you have never felt around him.   
Actually, you felt it with Minho but this is stronger. So much stronger. 
Jungkook can’t help but find you super attractive, and to him, you’re glowing like never before. He’s wondering if it’s related to your pregnancy or if you’ve always been shining but he never noticed it. 
“Let’s take a look at the menu,” you suggest, trying to look away from him, and he nods. His eyes on you are making you uncomfortable and it makes you wonder what you need to do. You take the menu and read what this restaurant has to offer. 
After your proposal to go out, Jungkook offered to come here, one of his favorite places. This is the first time you’re coming to this restaurant.     
A couple of minutes later, a waiter arrives at your table and asks what you’re going to take. It’s an Italian restaurant and a lasagna is the meal that you choose, you haven’t eaten one in ages. 
When the waiter leaves, you focus again on your friend. “I’ve been thinking a lot about your proposition, and I’ve made up my mind.” 
He just nods, encouraging you to keep talking. He doesn’t want to interrupt you, scared that you’ll change your mind in the middle. 
“I think you’re right,” you bite the inside of your cheek, you’re a bit nervous. “No matter what, you’ll be around and for sure, you’ll be the father figure of the baby. For sure, Minho will never be around, his family will never let him recognize a child he had with some random girl.” 
There is no need to be a genius to know that. However, Jungkook was the first one to understand that. 
“Having you as their legal father will be helpful for everything.”  
The man in front of you listens carefully but a feeling of happiness grows inside him. In some way, he kind of expected that you’d accept his proposition but he was skeptical. 
“But in the future, I don’t want to hide it to our child.” 
This last week, you realize that it’s better if your baby is in fact recognize as Jungkook’s child. Not only would they grow up with a father but if something happens, he’ll be able to make decisions without you being there. You don’t even doubt that he’d take the right decisions, no matter what. 
But if your baby grows up thinking that Jungkook is their biological father, it would eventually end up bad. They need to know that they have a biological father that is not the same as their actual father. 
“I don’t want secrets between the three of us.” 
For Jungkook, it’s totally understandable. He can imagine the shock someone can feel when they found out years later that the man that raised them is not their biological father. Telling the truth as soon as possible is for sure the best decision. 
However, he’s delighted that you accepted his proposition, and he’s more than happy to become a father. All he wants to do right now is jump off happiness and scream to the world that he’ll become a father. 
It’s something he has desired his entire life. Since a very young age, he dreamed of having two kids, a boy, and a girl but he always thought that he’d found the love of his life before. He never imagined that his love life would become a disaster as it is right now. The lack of luck on that field made him give up on his dream. 
Now, you’re changing everything.  
“I will of course say to everyone that you’re the father, I won’t ever mention Minho to anyone.” 
If you hide Minho from everyone, they’ll never know that he’s the biological father of the child you’re carrying. Nobody will raise questions and it’s a lot better like that. 
“I don’t know what the future holds but I’ll forever be thankful that you’ll take on the role of Minho.” 
During this past week, you tried to contact Minho a couple of times but you never heard anything from him. His family is most probably managing to convince him to do whatever they want or he just simply doesn’t want to speak with you anymore. 
And it just breaks your heart because you wanted to tell him that you’re pregnant with his child. You wanted to tell him that he’s going to be a father. But you know that most probably he’ll never find out about your baby’s existence. 
“As I told you, I’ll do anything for you, yn,” he replies with a small grin. “And now, that includes the small human growing in your womb.” 
You reach for his hand and hold it tight, the warmth of his hand on yours is pleasurable. You feel the urge to caress the top of his hand with his thumb. Your eyes get lost in his gaze, and never before have you felt this good.
You owe everything to the man in front of you. Without any doubt, you know that life will be much easier with him by your side. You won’t be scared of the future because he’ll help you deal with whatever may happen to your baby. A baby that is now his. 
“Our baby,” you mumble. 
Hearing you say that makes it feel real. Jungkook realizes that he’s really going to be a father. You will forever be linked to your closest friend. It doesn’t scare you at all because you know that he’ll be the best father for your baby, even better than Minho. 
“Our baby,” he repeats with a big and bright smile on his face. 
The fact that you’re pregnant is something that still feels unreal. You guess that you’ll only realize it when your baby bump will start growing or maybe when you’ll see your baby for the first time on an ultrasound. 
The dinner went well and you’re both super happy, looking forward to seeing what the future holds for both of you. 
You just left the restaurant, walking now to your apartment that isn’t really far but Jungkook wants to be sure that you safely arrive at your place. Now, he has to take care of you and your baby. Things have changed and he doesn't want something bad to happen to you.  
As you're walking, your bodies are very close, his hand brushing against yours, and you’re just dying to hold it and intertwine your fingers with his. During the entire dinner, you were just craving his touch, wanting his warmth to embrace your body, and never before it has happened. 
“You really don't have to take me home.” 
Jungkook stops, looking at you. “I want to be sure nothing happens to you on your way home.” 
You can't help but smile at his words. Tonight, the simple fact that he takes you home warms your heart although you’re perfectly aware that he would have done it any other day or with anybody. Jungkook has always been such a gentleman. 
“I don’t want anything to happen to you or the baby,” his dark eyes glare down on your body, halting at your stomach, and his right-hand grabs your left one, stroking your hand with his thumb. 
“For sure, nothing will happen to me or our baby with you.” 
You lean closer and press a soft kiss on his cheek. Both of you feel butterflies down your stomach as your lips touch his skin, and even when your lips leave the skin of his cheek, he still senses them. His dark orbs are totally hypnotized by your sweet face. 
In the dark of the night, your face sparkles, and the smile that starts to appear lights your face even more. Jungkook wants to take a picture of your face right now and spend the rest of his life looking at it, remembering just how twinkling you are right now.   
You take the opportunity that his hand is holding yours to intertwine your fingers before you start walking again, still with a bright smile on your face. 
Since you found out that you were pregnant, it’s actually the first time that you’re happy about it, and it’s all thanks to Jungkook. Seeing you this happy delights him. He just can't wait to see your womb swell but he's even more impatient to meet the baby. 
You quickly arrive home. Once in front of the building, you stop but still keep your fingers entwined. You look at each other and you feel like you're sixteen again. It's like you're with your crush for the first time although Jungkook is just your close friend. However, now the father of your child.
“I just don’t know what to say to you,” you sincerely say to him. “You are the father of my baby just because you don't want my life to fall apart and I don't think somebody else will ever do that to me.” 
You perfectly know that nobody else would have proposed to be the father of your baby just to protect you from the biological father’s family. Somebody else would have maybe never thought about it. 
Jungkook's eyes look down at you and his free hand caresses your cheek. 
“As I’ve been saying, I’ll do anything for you without any hesitation.” 
As you look up at him, you’re aware that you are both looking at the other differently, making you wonder if you always have felt something more than just friendship for him but never noticed it.  
Your hand leaves his and holds his waist tight as you crash your body against his, your head falling against his chest. The silence of the night is quickly replaced by the sound of his heartbeat pounding fast under his broad chest.
To say that you're thankful is an understatement. You don't know what could have happened if he had never suggested being the father. Most probably your family would have been ashamed of you, Minho's father would have given you money to abort or would have done everything to hide you, and you’d be alone, crying for being stupid enough to get yourself knocked up. 
“I am so thankful to have met you,” he whispers in your ear. “My life was so bland before you.” 
Your arms tighten even more around his waist, loving every word he said. Jungkook smiles, thinking that he must look like a total idiot right now. 
“Let’s get inside,” you say to him, “it’s too cold.” 
He nods before you both head to the building. You take the stairs as you live on the first floor, it's faster than using the elevator. You open the door and let Jungkook enter. 
“Do you want to drink something?” you ask him as you take your coat off.  
Jungkook stays at your apartment’s entrance, not moving at all. His eyes are on you as you turn the lights on and ask him if he wants to drink.
You’re beautiful in every way to him. The dress you’re wearing embraces your body perfectly, letting him see how imperfectly perfect your body is. It’s not the first time that he’s checking you out but this time, it’s different. You’re not just his friend anymore. You’re the mother of his unborn child. 
Jungkook realizes that he’s looking at you like he’s in love with you. He’s even wondering if the small glass of wine that he drank at the restaurant is causing this all. Without the wine would he be looking at you like that? 
“No, thanks,” he answers, shaking his head. “I think I drank too much already.” 
A small chuckle leaves your throat, thinking about the only glass of wine he took. Jungkook usually drinks way more than just a glass, you have already got drunk together after a miserable day. You can tell that he’s totally sober right now. 
“What makes you giggle?” he cocks a brow. 
“It was just a glass,” you answer with a smile on your face. “That was literally nothing for you.” 
He rolls his eyes, a smile appearing on his face. 
“You don’t even know if I drank something before seeing you.” 
You cross your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow. You’re not convinced at all by his little lie. 
“I’ve already seen you completely drunk, Kook,” you say. “I know what you look like when you drink too much.” 
“You’re annoying, yn.”  
“But you love me,” you’re still smiling at him before hugging him again. It feels good to be in his strong arms, more than good actually. 
Jungkook is also liking it a lot but before things get out of control, he just takes a step back. He’s scared to do or say something that he’ll regret. Right now, happiness is taking control of his body but he has to be careful. This feeling is maybe just temporary.   
“Maybe, I should get going,” he says. 
“No, don’t go,” you pout. 
You don’t want him to go. You want him to stay and hold you in his strong arms, feeling his warm body against yours. You have never craved so much his touch as you do right now, and it scares you a lot. 
This is new to you, wondering if it is real. You’re pregnant, your hormones are most probably all over the place and the man in front of you is going to be the father of your child. All those elements can cloud your judgment at the moment.  
“Stay just a little bit more,” you add. 
Jungkook crosses his arms over his chest before your little hands rest on his forearms. Your big eyes can’t stop looking into his, waiting for an answer. To him, it’s like you’re a small kid begging their parents to let them do whatever they want. But you’re just extremely adorable. 
“Stop looking at me like that.” 
He hates the power you have over him, you don’t have to do much to have him wrapped around your finger. He won’t say ‘no’ to anything you’ll ask.  
“You know I’ll give you what you want.” 
A smile appears on your face. 
“Can we watch a movie?” 
He nods before taking his jacket off and putting it on the coat hanger. You grab his hand, guiding him through your small apartment to get to the living room.  
“I’ll let you choose the movie while I’ll get us some snacks and drinks.” 
You disappear into your kitchen while Jungkook sits on your couch to choose the movie. You’ve already seen so many movies together that it feels like you have already seen all of them. 
Quickly you come back with some biscuits and drinks. He notices that you didn’t bring him any beer or alcohol which he's thankful for. He’s way too scared of what he could do with alcohol. You put everything on the coffee table, Jungkook’s eyes watching every one of your moves. You take a seat next to him, getting comfortable by his side.
“I choose some random shit that we haven’t seen yet,” he informs you. 
The movie that he chose isn’t important to you, all you care about is to spend more time with your baby daddy. This attraction you’re feeling for your friend is getting to be more obvious to you. You crave more, and you simply can’t deny it.  
Jungkook slowly comprehends that right now he’s loving you way more than a friend. The entire night, he was having doubts about it but feeling you sitting next to him gives him the time to realize things. 
The way he’s dressed is all for you and to get your attention. He never wore a see-through shirt because he knew that his dates would start flirting too much just to get laid, which was something he didn’t want. But wearing it tonight was like a sign from his subconscious, telling him that he didn’t actually mind getting laid. 
Nonetheless, you’re also wearing his favorite dress. A clear sign that he didn’t miss. He can’t help but think that you know what you were going to do to him. Jungkook isn’t wrong at all. At any other moment, you wouldn’t have put that dress on. Deep down, all you were hoping was to ruin the friendship.  
You’re sitting close to him, your leg pressed against his, and both of you try as hard as possible to focus on the movie. But neither of you can’t stop glancing at the other. 
Nevertheless, it seems that fate desires to bring you together, and the two characters of the movie start to make out heavily. Jungkook's face instantly heats up, completely embarrassed while your body completely freezes. That was for sure something unexpected, especially when you’re realising that you’re probably having a massive crush on the man sitting next to you. 
A piece of slow and romantic music plays in the background of the kissing scene. This only puts you both into the mood of the scene. The tension between you and Jungkook is heavily growing. 
The two of you ignore what to do as you’re both embarrassed by the way your bodies are reacting to a simple kissing scene. You’re just thankful that it’s not a sex scene otherwise you’d be hiding under the couch, ashamed to be completely turned on. 
This is becoming harder to handle as it becomes obvious that this scene is turning you on. You rub your thighs together, craving his touch more and more. Slowly, you turn your head towards him. Jungkook’s body is as tense as yours, you perfectly understand that he’s in the same state as you. 
“Kook,” your voice is barely audible but he hears you and finally looks at you. The first thing he sees is how desperate you are for him. 
“Yn,” he whispers as he closes his eyes for a few seconds. “Don’t look at me like that.” 
The movie is completely forgotten. There are just the two of you and nothing else. The tension between you two is at its highest and what’s going to follow next will only depend on the two of you. Are you going to give in or not? Are you going to ruin your friendship? 
“I can’t, JK.” 
Your heart is pounding hard, ready to burst at any minute. Jungkook’s eyes go from your eyes down to your lips, resting a little too much on them. He’s wondering what they feel like and the more he thinks about it, the more he wants to taste them.  
To you, it is more than evident that he wants to kiss you. So, you decide to be the boldest one, leaning closer to him, and he knows what’s coming, swallowing hard and biting his lower lip. He desperately wants it so he doesn’t move at all as you lean closer. 
However, for Jungkook, you’re moving too slow and he decides to close the gap for you, his lips finally meeting yours for a fervent kiss. His hand finds its way to the back of your neck, holding you while he kisses you like a desperate man. It simply feels like you’ve never kissed somebody before.   
The kiss is so passionate and deep. Jungkook's lips are soft against yours like he is scared to break you as he kisses you. But they feel good on yours, it’s as if they were meant to kiss you. 
As you’re kissing him with love and passion, you realize that since day one Jungkook was more than just a friend. There has always been a connection so strong between you that definitely was more than friendship but you always ignored it. The spark between you was slowly growing stronger and stronger until the moment it would inevitably blow up. That moment is happening right now. It just completely exploded unexpectedly, and god, it’s just so pleasurable.   
Jungkook pulls you onto his lap as he craves to feel more friction. That action lifts your dress up, revealing the skin of your legs. He’s craving to feel you in every possible way and bringing your body this close is completely driving him crazy. Both of you are panting hard but it clearly doesn’t matter. 
You keep wanting more and more.
As you break the kiss, you quickly unbutton his shirt, to reveal his bare skin to your eyes. You enjoy the view, his tattoos in the full display just for you. It’s not the first time you’re seeing his chest and tattoos, but it’s the first time that you’re looking at his body with lust. 
You instantly touch his covered tattooed skin. He has quite a lot of tattoos but there are still some uncovered parts. The ink on his body adds a lot of sensuality to him, and now, it becomes quite clear why all those girls are always so needy around him. He looks like a bad boy, but it’s one with the biggest heart you’ve ever met. 
Jungkook shivers from the feeling of your fingertips brushing against his skin. You press your lips against his, needing to be completely intoxicated by him. He licks your bottom lip before he grips it with his teeth, making you moan. As he hears your sweet moan, his dick twitches inside his pants and he’s growing harder underneath you. 
You open your mouth, Jungkook seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, finally meeting yours. You moan at the feeling, and unintentionally, he flexes his toned thigh. You feel it in all the right places, making your pussy clench around nothing and it makes you moan again. 
This unintentional action ends up being a good thing and he can’t help but smirk. His hands go down on your exposed thighs to caress them. Your skin is soft under his palms and his hands feel huge on your body.  
Before doing anything else, he pulls one of his legs out from under you in order for you to adjust yourself on his thigh. Your dress is pushed even higher, Jungkook has now a proper view of your black panties, and your clothed pussy is brushing now against his dark pants. 
Both of you know where this is going but none of you wants to stop it. You’re getting addicted to the other more and more and the thought of stopping doesn’t even cross your mind. 
“Fuck, yn,” hegroans when you start moving your hips against his thigh.  
He presses his lips on yours for a filthy kiss, his tongue passing past your lips and licking against your own. This feels more than good, everything about you is addictive, and Jungkook wants to have sex with you. 
This is totally unusual for him but all this situation is different. You’re not just a flirt that he met some days or weeks ago, you’ve been his closest friend for more than a year. He doesn’t doubt that beyond the physical attraction you love him for who he is. 
As his tongue plays with yours on your mouth, his hands find their way to your waist and guide your hips as you’re straddling his thigh. A small moan leaves your lips but the man in front of you swallows it directly. He pushes his thigh firmly against your clothed pussy and flexes the muscle once more. 
“I like how you’re riding my thigh, butterfly,” he whispers against your lips. “But I want to feel you properly.”  
One of his hands slides down on your body and tugs aside the fabric of your panties until your clit is directly pressed against his thigh. A breath falls from your lips as you drag your pussy against his thigh.  
Jungkook pulls you firmly against his flexed muscle, and once his hands are back on your waist, he quickens the pace of your hips. A trail of moans leaves your mouth, loving the friction of his pants against your pussy. 
“I love to hear you moan, butterfly,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 
He just knows what to say and when to do it. He loves to be in charge, that’s obvious and that is a surprising thing for you. You never thought Jungkook would be this type of man. He looks so gentle and adorable all the time that you thought that he’d be the sub type. 
His length is getting harder and tighter on his pants, he needs to do something about it otherwise he’ll explode completely. 
“I will touch myself as you keep riding my thigh,” Jungkook says with evident desperation in his voice. 
Before you can even process what he said, he inserts two fingers in your mouth, and with his other hand, he lowers his underwear, allowing his cock to slap against his lower stomach. His cock takes your breath away, standing proud in between your bodies. He’s a bit thick, but not too much though, and as well long but again not too long. It’s clearly not how you pictured the crotch of your friend. This sight alone gets you wetter.    
You suck on his finger, coating them with your saliva, and that alone snatches a groan out of his pretty swollen lips. A proud smile appears on your face. When he feels that they are soaked enough, he pulls them from your mouth. His fingers hold his cock, covering it with your saliva as they go up and down the length. 
“Damn,” he mumbles, his head slowly going back at the feeling of his fingers on his length and your clit rubbing against him. “You’re doing this so well, butterfly,” he comments. 
The little butterfly nickname brings actual butterflies in your lower stomach. It’s such an adorable nickname even though it’s said in the middle of a naughty time. 
You bite your bottom lip as you stare deep into his eyes. The intimacy of the eye contact with the friction against your clit makes the wave of pleasure grow intensely inside you, and for sure, you won’t last long before that wave hits you hard.  
“Pleasuring yourself on my thigh while I touch myself,” he growls as his hand keeps pumping his cock. “It’s too hot, butterfly.”  
Jungkook runs his thumb over the tip of his cock and grips his bottom lip between his teeth. He strokes his cock at the same pace at which your hips are working on his thigh, and he also feels like he’s about to cum on his hand. 
“Fuck, butterfly,” he growls as he looks down to watch your throbbing pussy rubbing against his thigh, “you’re doing this perfectly.” 
You put your hand on his shoulder and circle your pussy faster against his thigh. You’re so close. 
“Kook,” you say and his gaze meets yours once again, “I’m so close!” 
The hand resting on your waist goes down and his thumb circles on your clit. It sends you over the edge, the wave of pleasure hitting you violently and you feel your orgasm in every part of your body. A guttural moan leaves your mouth and you close your eyes to enjoy the feeling.  
The sight of you coming undone makes him come, a deep groan coming from his throat as cum flows on his hand. 
You hide your face on the crook of his neck, completely surprised that you gave in to temptation. Nobody says anything, you’re just both trying to catch your breath and you close your eyes. 
Slowly, you fall asleep in his arms, exhausted from what happened. Jungkook senses it but doesn’t say anything as he enjoys having you in his arms. 
As you’re falling deeper, he moves a bit and you groan a bit. “I’m just putting back my pants, butterfly,” he whispers in your ear.  
He does it quickly to not disturb you more. “I’ll put you in your bed, you’ll be better.” 
“No,” you mumble half-awake, “I want to stay in your arms.” 
He stands up, holding you tight in his arms. You mumble some words that he doesn’t understand, making him chuckle. Once in your bedroom, he carefully places you in your bed before laying next to you. He crawls to you, holding you again in his arms.       
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OCTOBER 15, 2018
For the past two days, Jungkook has been living in your place, only leaving you to go to work. Having him around you all the time has been helping you to embrace and accept this pregnancy even more.  
The first appointment with the obstetrician has already been taken and you’re super excited to discover your baby. But most importantly, you want to know if nothing is wrong with them, their health is what worries you the most. 
You don’t know exactly how far you’re on this pregnancy, and in the past weeks, there has been some alcohol consumption. That is leaving you wondering if it affected their growth and you just want to be sure that the baby is in fact good health.     
Although everything seems to be fine, you and Jungkook haven’t spoken about what happened two days ago. Indeed, just the thought of what happened makes you a bit uncomfortable. But you need to speak about it, you’re going to be parents and you can’t just ignore the feelings you have. 
“Kook?” you say as you sit in front of him at the wooden table of the kitchen. 
As usual, he’s wearing a large shirt with some training pants but his hair isn’t pushed into a man-bun as he has been doing it quite a lot lately. This simple outfit gives him some sexiness, and you know that in a long term, you won’t be able to resist his natural charm.  
“Mmm,” he says looking at you. 
“Can we speak about what happened two days ago?” 
You’re scared that if you don’t bring the conversation up, he would never do it. When it comes to feelings, Jungkook is always the first one to hide which means that you have to be the bravest one. 
The man in front of you swallows hard when he hears your question. Of course, he prefers to avoid the subject since he’s a bit ashamed of what happened. But he knows how important it is to communicate.    
“We really need to, JK,” you can see in his eyes that he’s not comfortable. “We are going to have a baby, and being scared of speaking about certain topics is clearly not the best thing to do.”
“I know, yn,” he answers. “I’m just ashamed of how needy I was for you.” 
You decide to stand up, walking to him, and sitting in his lap. Your fingers brush his long hair, that part of him is one of your weaknesses. You never thought you’d be into long-haired men but here you are, loving Jungkook’s long hair. 
As you sit on his lap, he remembers how well you made him feel when you were riding his thigh.   
“Don’t be ashamed,” your eyes look into his dark orbs. “We both wanted it.” 
One of your hands goes down on his face to caress his soft skin. 
“I never expected to feel more than friendship for you, JK. Never,” his eyes never leave yours, scared that if he closes his eyes, you’ll disappear. “But I liked everything I felt that day and how you made me feel.” 
His heart is slowly starting to pound fast.  
“Nobody made me feel the way you did, and I was only riding your thigh.” 
You don’t even want to imagine how he could make you feel with his cock buried deep inside you. 
“I want to feel that every day, Jungkook.” 
You’re not ashamed to tell him that you desire more. More of his lips on you, more of his hands on your body, more of his touch. More of him. You want to get addicted again and again until all your mind can think of is him.  
“You know that if we do that again, we can’t be just friends anymore.” 
That limit seems to have already been exceeded. It happened the moment you found out you were pregnant and he proposed to be the father. That gesture proved that he’d go beyond everything to protect you. 
“We already ruin our friendship,” you slightly push some of his hair back. “We stopped being friends the moment we decided to kiss each other.” 
His eyes go down to your lips, remembering the way they were kissing him two nights ago. It felt like entering heaven. Since that night, he can’t stop thinking of your lips on his. 
“Be my boyfriend, Jungkook,” you tell him. “Don’t be just my baby’s daddy.”    
It’s the first time a girl asks him to date her, but the boldness of your suggestion doesn’t even surprise him. Between the two of you, you’ve always been the boldest, and he has always liked it.  
He wants to be more than just your friend and experienced love with you. God, there are so many things that have crossed his mind after that night and in all of them, you were his girlfriend.  
“You know you already have me wrapped around your finger,” his hands slide down to your waist, bringing you closer to him and holding you firmly against his hips. You can feel his bulge just under your core, and he’s not even hard.   
Jungkook hates when he’s not in control, but with you, most of the time, you’re the one in charge. He’ll do whatever you want him to do. 
“I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” he adds. “If you want me to be your sex friend, I’ll be it and if you want more, I’ll give you more.” 
Without any second thoughts, you kiss him with passion. You want him to be more than just a partner with whom you have fun. The love you both feel for each other is just too strong. 
“I want to be your girlfriend, Jungkook,” you whisper on his lips. “I want to give you all the love you deserve.” Your thumb caresses his cheek. “You deserve the love of Juliet.” 
A smile spreads across his face, remembering the time you told him that he deserves to be loved like Juliet loved Romeo. Although it was a tragic love story, he wants to know a love as strong as that one.   
“And you deserve the love of all the stars and the moon.” 
Jungkook kisses you once again. This is something he never expected, to start dating you the moment he becomes a father. 
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JANUARY 17, 2019
For the past three months, a lot has changed. 
Jungkook has moved on to your place because everything will be easier if you live in the same apartment. Since he was sharing his with Namjoon and Yoongi, it was evident that you were not going to live with him and his roommates. 
Your relationship is slowly getting stronger as days pass. Not much has changed. You spend more time together now and kiss a lot. There’s a lot of oral sex but no penetrative sex yet. There isn’t any real reason behind it, you’re just comfortable with the oral sex at the moment and you know that there will be more when you’ll feel ready. 
To everyone, you have both announced that you were going to have a baby together. The reactions were overall positives. Both of your parents were more than happy and excited to become grandparents. Your parents were a bit tougher because you’re not married, but they still accept it since you’re together. But your mother, as well as his, started to cry as they realized that their babies were going to have a baby.  
Your siblings were just thrilled to have a niece or nephew tin the way. The feeling was shared by your friends, some were just surprised that you were having a kid when you used to describe each other as just friends. 
Yongji was the one that was a bit more skeptical at first, not truly believing it but you managed to convince her. This little secret, you just want to keep it between the two of you for the moment. You have to admit that you were scared of her reaction. What would she say? Would she still support you if she knows? And as selfish as it sounds, you want to have your best friend by your side during all your pregnancy.     
Nobody knows or even suspects that Minho is the biological father of the baby you’re carrying. And it’s better like that, especially since the Park family announced publicly that Minho is going to marry Yeri in July. 
You still keep trying to contact him but less than at the beginning. It’s clear now that he’s never going to reach out for you, he’s back with Yeri and he will start a family with her. You’re convinced that this was all meant to be. Minho will never know that he got you pregnant and that he created a human being with you. 
“Can I help you?”  
You finished work a bit earlier today, there wasn’t much work to do today and you decided that it’d be the perfect occasion to visit Jungkook’s store. 
The man in front of you asking if he can help you must be the new partner of your boyfriend.  
Last month, he decided to listen to you and found a partner to help him out. Of course, he was picky, and it took him a little while to find the perfect partner. Ironically, his partner is named Park Jimin. 
Jungkook has been praising him a lot, and you’re more than happy to see that this partnership is working perfectly. There are even more clients now but your boyfriend finds more time to work on his personal projects. 
“I am here for Jungkook,” you say with a smile on your face. 
“Do you have any appointment?” he asks politely. 
“No, I am his girlfriend.” 
“Oh, sorry,” Jimin says before bowing to you. “I didn’t know.” 
“Don’t worr,” you still smile at him.
“He’s still working but he should be almost over.” 
You nod before thanking him for the information. He proposes to you something to drink or to eat but you politely decline. You’ve already eaten a lot today, this crazy baby has been giving you the wildest cravings and you know that if you start eating now, you won’t be able to stop. 
Your stomach is slightly swollen but with all the layers of clothes you’re wearing, it’s not even noticeable. Your baby has been growing a lot lately which leads to your stomach swelling a lot too. You’re certain that in some days, even with all the clothes you put to protect yourself from the cold weather, you won't be able to hide your baby bump anymore. 
You were about to take a seat in one of the chairs in the entrance when a man comes from behind with Jungkook following him. The man checks you out quickly but your boyfriend notices it and by the way his jaw clenches, you bet that he doesn’t like it. 
Another young lady enters, and Jimin takes care of her while the man pays for what Jungkook did on his body before leaving the store. Jimin disappears behind with the girl, leaving you alone with your boyfriend. 
His hair is pushed back into a man-bun, a large grey shirt covering his toned torso while ripped blue skinny jeans cover his long legs. This view is more than mouthwatering. This hot man standing in front of you is all yours. 
“Hi, butterfly,” he finally breaks the silence between the two of you. 
“Hi,” you smile at him. Watching him like that, all you want to do is make love with him until you forget your own name. 
Jungkook walks closer to you, offering you a soft smile. “I was not expecting you,” his thumb finds its way to your cheek, caressing it like you’re made of glass. 
“I wanted to surprise you.”    
Jungkook leans his face closer to yours, his breath brushing your skin. “It’s definitely a good surprise, butterfly,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 
Your boyfriend is a master in teasing and turning you on with a few words. He can literally say “car” and it’ll turn you on. You don’t know how he does it but what’s sure is that he’s a master in making you weak. 
Pulling back a little, he stares into your eyes before pressing his lips against yours. The kiss is filled with heat and passion and you already know where this is going. The only problem is that you’re in his store and all the passers-by can see the two of you. 
“I have twenty minutes before my next client,” he says on your lips. “We could make good use of those twenty minutes,” he suggests before taking your hand and guiding you to the back of his shop. 
You enter his private room, the one where he works on his personal projects and where he eats during his small breaks. There is a couch on the left corner, a small table with two chairs, and a fridge on the right corner. It’s a small room but he doesn’t need much more. 
Jungkook closes the door so nobody can come in and disturb you for the next few minutes. There’s music playing in the room. Often from The Weeknd. The song sets the mood clearly.  
Your lips meet once again for a languid kiss. You want him so much, and you desire so much more than just his tongue and fingers.   
You want him to insert himself inside you. 
“I want you, Kook,” you whisper in between kisses. 
He breaks the kiss before looking at you. “Take your jacket and pants off.” 
You don’t have much time to have sex, and it’s better if you start undressing. So, Jungkook takes his clothes off quickly while you undress too. You struggle a bit more since you’re carrying a little human inside your body. 
He opens one drawer from the little furniture next to the couch, taking a condom from it. The sight of the condom surprised you.  
“Why do you have a condom here?” you ask while frowning. You’re half-naked and crossing your arms over your chest. 
“I kind of hoped that one day you’d come and we’d get laid here.” 
This little confession from your boyfriend is surprising. So, all this time he was dreaming of having sex with you on that couch and never said anything to you. 
“You’re very surprising when it comes to sex,” you admit. 
“Everybody has their own little fantasies,” he replies back. 
“But why are you even taking a condom?” you ask him, a bit confused. 
You’re pregnant, and the condom is completely useless. You are both healthy, nothing can happen if he penetrates you. 
“We don’t want you to get pregnant while pregnant,” he answers. 
His answer makes you giggle, and he arches a brow while tilting his head as he does not understand what is making you giggle. 
“I can’t get pregnant while being pregnant, babe,” you tell him. 
“I read some articles that it can happen.” 
Jungkook has been deeply involved in this pregnancy. He clearly doesn’t want to just give his name to your baby to protect you, he wants to be the best partner for you and father for the baby. He has been reading a lot of pregnancy books, and he even chats with some other dads on blogs. 
When you found out that some weeks ago, you felt lucky. Lucky to share this with him and to have him by your side. You know he’ll never let you down, and even if the worst happened, he’d give his best to be the father your child deserves. 
“The chances are very low, babe.” 
This is for sure a question you’ll ask your obstetrician on your next appointment. However, you strongly believe that it would never happen. 
“But there’s a risk and I don’t want to take it.” 
He’ll gladly make love to you without a condom but he knows how hard it will be for you if you get pregnant while being pregnant. He sees how sometimes it is hard for you with just one baby, and if he could, he’d be the one carrying the baby. 
But the reality is different, and your body is the one bearing his child. So, he’ll do anything and everything to make your life easier. And wearing a condom will for sure make it easier.    
“Now, take your shirt off, I want to see your swollen stomach.” 
Since your stomach started to show, Jungkook adores to see it. Not only does he speak with the baby but he also caresses it. He wants to connect with his child before they arrive. He wants them to recognize him. For him, it’s the way to get really involved. However, he has also developed some sort of weird kink. He also likes to see your belly when you have sexual interactions. 
You do as he says, revealing your upper body to him. Your boyfriend stares at your body, the prettiest one he has ever seen. The fact that you’re bearing his baby makes you even more marvelous to him.      
“You’re so wonderful, butterfly.”  
Your boyfriend guides both your bodies to the couch, sitting on the couch while you sit astride him, your ass pressed against his length and letting your legs rest on either side of his body. Your stomach is pressed against his, and he loves the feeling. 
His lips find yours for another passionate kiss, your hands cupping his adorable cheeks while his hands go down on your body, caressing every inch of you. 
His lips break the kiss. “I didn’t like the way the client checked you out.” 
His little jealousy is something that you find very cute because it’s little. Sometimes, he just says some things like that and you can’t help but find it adorable. 
“I could say the same about all the girls that check you out when you walk in the streets.” 
Jungkook is terribly handsome, you’re very aware of it. You can’t go for a walk with your boyfriend without having all the girls checking him out. Jealousy is something you constantly feel but you trust him. You know he loves you and he would never do something to break your trust.     
You kiss him again fervently, wanting to taste his lips over and over again. Slowly your lips go down to his neck and you decide to mark him as yours. You softly suck his skin and to your surprise he let you do it. He knows that you just want to let all the girls know that he’s already taken.  
You feel the rumble of his chest as he starts to groan, and you feel his hands lay on your waist. Accidentally, your ass grinds against his length, and a groan leaves his lips.
“Fuck, butterfly.” 
Once you’re done with the little hickey, you lick the sensitive spot and smirk, happy with what you just did. 
His fingers find their way underneath your chin and lift it up. He wants his face to be the only thing you look at right now. His eyes are sparkling a lot and you know that you could forever get lost in his eyes. 
His lips find yours for yet another kiss and you could kiss him forever without getting sick of it. His tongue licks your lips, inviting you to open up your mouth for him. His tongue explores the insides of your mouth, making you moan into his mouth. 
“I need you, Kook,” you gasp as you feel yourself getting wetter. “I really need you, now.”  
Right now, all you want is to feel him inside you. You don’t want him to lick or finger you until you’re coming hard as well as you don’t want to feel his cock buried in your mouth until you swallow all his cum. 
“Looks like my little butterfly is very needy,” he says smirking against your lips. “But she’s lucky that all I want right now is to feel her tight walls around my hard length.”  
You both start removing the last piece of clothing that you were wearing, which are just your underwears. Jungkook finally sets ‘kookie junior’ free, that’s how you’ve been calling his cock lately. He doesn’t like it much but teasing him is one of your passions, so you decided that from now on you’ll call his length ‘kookie junior’.   
Your hand starts pumping his length, resulting in Jungkook rolling his head back and letting out a moan. Seeing and feeling his long and thick cock just makes you want to feel him inside you even more. 
You move your hand up and down his length at a slow pace at first before quickening. He is getting harder, panting out curses of how good it feels to finally have your hand around him again. Precum is leaking and you use it as lube to allow your hand to easily move along his dick.  
“Fuck, yn,” he curses as he looks at your hand working on his cock. But as he looks down, the first thing he sees is your baby bump and that sight can make him come undone in a heartbeat.  
You feel his cock twitch beneath your fingers, and you decide to stop this torture. You know that he’ll come right now and you still need to ride him before that happens. A desperate groan leaves his lips. 
“We don’t have the time for it, Kook.” 
You grip the condom he took seconds before and rip off the packing with your teeth. Then, you put the condom on his hard length while his hand slips to your wet core and he curses when he feels how wet you are. 
“Fuck, butterfly,” his cold fingers brushing against your core makes you moan. “You’re so wet,” he smirks and gathers your wetness in his fingers before bringing them to his mouth and sucking them. Your eyes are glued to what he’s doing, and you admire the way your wetness mixes with his saliva in his mouth. This is so fucking hot. 
Once he finishes sucking his fingers and the condom is put on his cock, his gaze meets yours and his hands fall to your hips, guiding your body up and then back down as you slowly sink onto his cock. 
You moan as he stretches you out, your nails sinking on his shoulder as you feel a mix of pleasure and pain.  
“Fuck!” you whimper as he groans, more than happy to be inside of your heat. You’re sure that Jimin and the girl he’s tattooing heard his loud groan, but you simply don’t care. All you care about is to be fucked by this man. 
“You’re so fucking big,” you say. 
Both of you stay still once his cock is fully inside you. You press your forehead against his, giving time to your body to adapt to his huge cock. You look into each other's eyes and he offers you a big smile. 
“It just feels like you were made just for me,” he says, and you smile back at him. 
“Maybe we are meant to be together,” you give him a quick kiss. 
“I am starting to think that we are,” he whispers. 
Jungkook is convinced that when you entered this shop almost two years ago, you were meant to be his soulmate. He never believed in that shit before you, but now that he’s with you, it all makes sense to him.  
“I could stay like this forever,” you say before giving him another kiss.    
“Me too, butterfly.” 
It feels like heaven, even though it hurts a little bit to have him fully inside of you. 
“Can I move or do we wait a bit more ?” he asks with concern. 
Instead of answering, you grind your hips to let him know that you’re ready to feel him move. Your prominent stomach brushes against his abs and a groan leaves his mouth.  
Your forehead leaves his, and you sit up before he starts to thrust into you without any hesitation. His strong hands go down on your hips, holding you in place as his hips begin to thrust you at a slow pace. With every thrust he gives you; you feel your stomach get tighter. 
There aren’t words to describe how good it feels to share this moment with him. Everything is perfect with him, and finally having more than just oral sex with him feels like you got a ticket to heaven. You look at him, hot as hell, and that sight makes you moan. 
Knowing how Jungkook loves to handle everything when it comes to sex, you know that all you have to do is to sit on his cock and let him do all the magic, enjoying every single second of this moment. He is strong enough to hold your body up as he fucks into your cunt from below. His thrusts become fast as he starts to set a pace you are both comfortable with. 
“Feels good, butterfly?” he questions. 
You give him a simple nod, not able to make a proper sentence because you’re completely lost in your own state of bliss. Jungkook loves seeing you like this, completely fucked up. 
His hands caress your stomach, and in the middle of this debauchery, you can’t help but find this moment adorable. You know he’s doing it to reassure your baby, he confessed to you once when he did it while he was fingering you. And you have to admit that you like the feeling of his hands rubbing your skin. 
Your walls pulse around his length, squeezing him and it results in his thrusts becoming more brutal. He is deep inside of you, and you are loving it. Tears start to roll down your cheeks because of the way he’s pounding inside of you. He’s stretching your insides so much with his rough thrust and it makes your whole body tremble. 
If he keeps pounding you like that, you’re sure that you’ll give birth right now.  
“Gonna cum, Kook,” you whisper to be the most discreet, although you’re sure that Jimin has already understood that you’re both having sex.
Your nails sink into his shoulder, and he groans at the pain and pleasure it gives him. He grips your hips harder as he continues to roughly thrust inside you, and you are sure that you’ll have bruises.
“Go ahead, butterfly, make a mess for me,” he groans as he keeps thrusting hard. 
Those dirty words are all you need to let your orgasm go. You are coming, biting your lower lip to muffle your moans. Your thighs are shaking but he keeps thrusting into you while you’re completely high from your orgasm. 
Jungkook is completely loving the way you’re creaming his dick and just this sight could make him cum but he is determined to at least make you come one more time before he would come.
Right now, his priority is you and he just doesn’t give two fucks to the client he’s supposed to tattoo in some minutes. 
He quickly changes positions, flipping your bodies so that now he is on top of you and you are lying on the couch. Your legs wrap around his waist as he keeps thrusting into you. He’s although very careful with your stomach because he doesn’t want to hurt you or the baby. This is too much for your body and quickly, tears start falling from your eyes, again.
“Kook,” you’re trying to speak but your mind can’t think straight from all this overstimulation, “too m-much,” even though it feels like it’s too much, your body is secretly loving. 
“I know you can take it, butterfly. Be a good girl for me, okay?” he whispers in your ear before he licks the spot right under your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You nod and you feel his tongue going down from your ear to your neck. 
Jungkook sucks and bites the skin of your neck, leaving a bruise. 
“I want everyone to know that I’m the only one who can touch you, butterfly,” his thrusts are still brutal, and you don’t know if your body can handle all of this any longer.  
“Fuck, Kook!” you say as your eyes roll back into the back of your head and he chuckles lowly into your ear. 
Due to his brutal thrust, the couch is creaking, and your breasts are bouncing like crazy. They also have swollen a lot since the beginning of the pregnancy, and they are becoming heavier as time passes.  
His thumb makes contact with your clit and starts rubbing it. All of this feels so bad and so good at the same time, but you never want him to stop. You’re doing everything you can to not moan but Jungkook is clearly pushing you to do it. He’s driving you completely crazy. 
The tip of his cock hits that sweet spot and you come all over him again. Your pussy clench around him as a loud moan escapes your lips, and the juices of your release are leaking out everywhere. 
He keeps fucking you through your high as he chases his own release. Your walls keep clenching around him and that is all he needs to come. He closes his eyes, enjoying this moment of release and you are sure he’d never look so sexy.  
Jungkook collapses over you as he decides to leave your pussy some needy rest. You both try to catch your breath for a little while, and you leave a lot of kisses on his sweet face. He’s loving it and he could stay like this forever but he has one final client before you can both go home. 
“I’ll tattoo the client, and you stay here until I come back, okay?” he lifts his head up to look at you. 
“Okay, Kookie.” 
He pulls his kookie junior out of you before taking the condom filled with his cum and throwing it in the trash. He puts his clothes back on while you do the same but at a slower rate. Before leaving the room, he kisses you. 
“Can’t wait to do this again tonight, butterfly.”    
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FEBRUARY 20, 2019
Minho never expected to see you again, especially not in a supermarket. More than five months have passed since he last saw you. 
He's perfectly aware that he’s the one that completely put an end to whatever you two were having. He adored you a lot and under other circumstances, he's convinced that things between you would have worked. But Yeri, his ex whom he dated for years, came back to him, and things changed. He knew that if he chose you over her, his family would always reject you even if you’d get married. 
But he chose the easiest way for everyone, avoiding causing a lot of suffering. Things would have never been easy. He knows that he will never love Yeri as he used to but they share a long love story and she is what his family wants.   
As you’re looking at the fruits you’re going to buy, your swollen womb catches his attention, making his body freeze completely. Your right-hand strokes gently your obvious baby bump. 
His heart squeezes at the sight, thinking that there are chances that he’s the father. He closes his eyes for a few seconds. For the past months, you’ve been texting him frequently, trying to contact him but he refuses to reply because he knows that he’d fall into your arms in a heartbeat. This is beyond hard for him. Of course, he desires only to reply to your calls and texts but things are better like this.  
Now, it all makes sense. You’ve been texting him because you want to tell him that you’re pregnant. If he would have answered you, he knows that things would have been completely different. Most probably, he’d be right next to you in this supermarket and he’d be doing some jokes about your bump. Most probably, he’d be preparing his baby’s room instead of planning his wedding. 
“Shit,” he mumbles to himself. 
As he was about to walk in your direction, he notices Jungkook placing himself next to you. He’s smiling at you while his hand finds its way to your back. If he didn’t know that he’s your best friend, he’d think that you’re together. 
You look up at Jungkook before he leans closer to you and presses a kiss on your lips. Minho’s heart squeezes even more. You replaced him like he thought you would but you deserve it.  
After kissing Jungkook, you turn around and see Minho from afar. He’s barely recognizable with his hat and sunglasses but you notice him straight away. He’s still the biological father of your child, you’d recognize him under dozens of layers of clothing. 
“I’m coming back,” you say to your boyfriend before walking in Minho’s direction. 
Jungkook doesn’t even have the time to say or understand what you said before you leave him alone in front of the fruits. Minho sees you coming but he doesn’t move. His eyes are only focused on your stomach. It’s still small but it’s obvious that you’re carrying a human. 
“What are you doing here?” 
You’re more than surprised to see him here. It’s a public space, anyone could see him and it’s for sure the last place on earth where you thought you’d see him. 
“Just needed to buy something.” 
A bit far from him, you see his bodyguards. That was the thing you hated the most about him, his bodyguards. They were always around him, never leaving the two of you in peace.  
His eyes barely look at your face, and you know this is your only chance to tell him everything. You’ve been trying for months without success. 
“We really need to talk.” 
This is probably not the best place to have a serious conversation but you don't want to let the chance to speak with him slip away from you. 
Minho nods and you take a look behind you, staring at Jungkook. His jaw is clenched, showing you that he's not very happy to see you with Minho but you offer him a small grin, trying to reassure him. The last thing you want is your boyfriend to get worried.
You both start walking in the supermarket as you explain everything to him. From the way you found out about your pregnancy to the decision you took to recognize Jungkook as the father. 
Minho’s heart squeezes as he hears how you felt alone the moment you found out, but he’s grateful that Jungkook was there, holding you in such a difficult time. You needed someone at that time, and he just feels sorry that he wasn’t there.   
But he can only agree with the decision you took. Although he would have loved to be a father and be there every step of the way, he knows his father. He would have first tried to make you abort. Then, if it didn’t work, he would have simply made you disappear. He would have given you a lot of money to buy your silence and make you leave the country.  
“Jungkook will be their father but if you want to see them, I won’t ever stop you.” 
“I won’t ever do that,” he replies. His words make your heart clutch, thinking about the fact that he doesn’t want to meet his child. 
“Why?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. 
“All I want for that baby is to have the best life possible. Having two fathers won’t make things easier.” 
“We don’t have to necessarily tell them straight away that you’re their father.” 
For sure, until they’re three or four years old, you won’t say anything because they’ll be too young to understand and you’re scared that it would not provide them a stable life. 
“We could wait for a while and introduce you as a family friend until they’re old enough to understand.” 
He doesn’t say anything, just walking and looking in front of him. Being a father is something he has always dreamed of but his family always made things too hard. He ended up not wanting kids, too scared to become like his father. He never wants his children to hate him. 
“I want that baby to be protected from my family, yn,” he finally confesses before halting and looking at you. “I don't want them to know the pressure of being part of the powerful Park family.” 
You take his hand and squeeze it. 
“I prefer it if they never know that I am their birth father. They’ll be safer with you and Jungkook.” 
“But you can still be a part of their life. You can still love them and watch them grow. That’s your right, Minho,” you stroke your thumb on his hand. “This baby will forever have your blood in their veins and nobody can change that. They exist thanks to you and you have all the rights in the world to love them and to be loved by them. Maybe it will never be like you picture it but it will still be love.” 
A small tear runs down his face, and you wipe the tear away. 
“Jungkook and I would never hide to them that he is not their biological father but they’ll only know that you’re the father if you want it.” 
“I never deserved to have you in my life, yn,” he answers. “You’re just too nice.” 
“You deserve everything, Minho. You’re a good person, you were just unlucky to be born as the Park heir. I know you’ll always take decisions based on your family’s approval but nobody has to know about this baby,” you put his hand on your stomach. “Just you, Jungkook and I.” 
He nods before hugging you. This is something he can do. He can be around, see his child grow, and love them but nothing will ever be said to anybody, not even his fiancé. This will be his secret. 
“You’ll be a great mother and I am sure Jungkook will be the best father this baby will ever have.” 
You’re convinced of the same. Jungkook will for sure be the greatest, loving and protecting father ever. 
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MAY 28, 2019
Jeon Hyejun. 
You’re looking at your baby boy that is peacefully sleeping in your arms. After nine long months of waiting, he’s finally here, and you’re on your own paradise with Jungkook. 
Hyejun is perfect, prettier than you ever imagined him. He looks a lot like you but he definitely inherited some traits from Minho, you can’t hide it. Jungkook is sitting next to you in the hospital bed, looking at you and his son. 
Nothing prepared him for this very moment. Nothing. He doesn’t even know how to describe what he’s feeling at the moment. All he knows is that he’s finally a father. The father of your son. 
When he saw you in his store, scared to do your first tattoo, he never thought that he’ll start a family with you and that he’ll love you more than life itself. But that’s the magic of fate. You don’t know who you might meet tomorrow. Anybody can drastically change your life. 
“He’s so beautiful,” you mumble as you pass one finger on your son’s face. 
“And so tiny,” Jungkook comments. 
Minho was contacted when you birthed Hyejun. He was the one requesting it because he wants to see him straight after he was born. Hyejun might never know that Minho is his biological father but he’ll have him in his life. 
He has already opened a bank account for him, and he’ll put some money until he’s old enough to be the holder of the bank account. He will never be his father but he still wants to provide him the best future he can have. Money is something he has in a huge quantity and it’s the least he can do. 
“We’re finally parents,” Jungkook adds. 
“It’s the beginning of a new adventure for us,” you look up at your boyfriend with a bright smile. 
You’re more than exhausted but you wanted to put your son to sleep before you sleep too. You wanted to be the first person to do it. 
“And I know it’ll be the best adventure of our lives, butterfly.” As he says your nickname, your eyes instantly look down at his arm where a little butterfly has recently been tattooed. A butterfly made for you. A butterfly that represents his immense love for you. A strong love that he has never experienced before you.
4K notes · View notes
gyuuberryy · 2 months
Text
fatal trouble
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pairing: vampire!sunghoon x reader
synopsis: your roommate is hot. really really hot. and odd too. really really odd. after a strange experience with him, you slowly start distancing yourself from him. but, it becomes exceptionally hard with your feelings coming in the way. how are you supposed to protect yourself if you can’t resist him? the answer is you don’t need to. your fates are intertwined and there's no letting go.
genre: roommates to lovers, vampire au, soulmate au
warnings: suggestive content, mentions of nightmares and blood, jealous!sunghoon, 
note: dropping this before i go on hiatus for a month due to school work. i haven't proofread it that well i hope there are no mistakes. also im obsessed with vampire aus, enhablr needs more of them fr!! i hope you enjoy reading this!
word count: 6k
if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3
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the soft glow of your laptop screen illuminated your face, casting long shadows across sunghoon's pristine white sheets. you were sprawled out on his bed, legs crossed beneath you, surrounded by a chaotic scatter of textbooks and papers. the quiet hum of the air conditioner filled the room, broken only by the intermittent clicks of your keyboard.
sunghoon sat at his desk, a silhouette against the darkened room, save for the focused beam of his desk lamp. his fingers danced across the keyboard with an almost rhythmic precision, the soft glow of the screen reflecting in his dark eyes. you’d grown accustomed to the sight of him engrossed in his work, a solitary figure lost in the world of ones and zeros.
you’d known each other for a few months now, the kind of acquaintance born out of shared living space and the occasional group project. as roommates sharing the same major, your apartment had become a de facto study hub. computer science had thrown you together more often than not, and tonight was no exception. 
“hey, did you get the part about the algorithm?” your voice, a whisper in the quiet, cut through the comfortable silence.
sunghoon glanced up, his eyes a deep, almost unnatural shade of red in the dim light. for a moment, you were struck by how different he looked compared to the daylight. “yeah, i think so. isn’t it something about minimising the time complexity?”
you nodded, your eyes scanning the code on your screen. “exactly. i’m just having trouble with the implementation.”
a comfortable silence settled over the room as you both focused on your respective screens. the only sound was the rhythmic tapping of keys and the occasional sigh of frustration. you glanced up at sunghoon, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of his monitor. his long, slender fingers moved with an almost hypnotic grace across the keyboard.
there was something undeniably attractive about his focused intensity. his features, normally sharp and aloof, softened slightly when he was engrossed in his work. it was a side of him you rarely saw, and it was oddly captivating.
you shook your head, mentally scolding yourself for such thoughts. he was your roommate, nothing more. and besides, there was no way he could be interested in someone like you.
“hey,” sunghoon’s voice cut through your reverie, “i think i figured it out.”
you blinked, startled. “oh, really? want to explain it?”
he nodded, sliding his chair back and standing up. he walked over to your side of the bed, his tall frame looming over you. as he leaned in to point at your screen, his scent washed over you – a subtle blend of wood and something else, almost sweet, that you couldn’t quite place.
you felt a strange warmth creeping up your neck as he hovered over you. his proximity was unnerving, yet strangely intoxicating. you swallowed hard, trying to focus on the code in front of you.
sunghoon's breath was warm against your ear as he leaned in closer, his voice a low rumble, "try this." his finger hovered over your keyboard, about to demonstrate.
you felt a shiver run down your spine, not from the cool night air but from the inexplicable sensation of being so close to him. his scent, a mix of something woodsy and faintly sweet, was intoxicating. you tried to focus on the code, to ignore the way your heart was pounding in your chest.
he typed a few lines, his fingers brushing against yours. the contact sent a jolt of electricity through you. you forced yourself to concentrate on the screen, trying to understand the changes he made.
"see?" he said, straightening up. "it's simpler this way."
you nodded, still reeling from the physical contact. "thanks," you managed to say, your voice barely a whisper.
sunghoon stepped back, a small smile playing on his lips. "no problem," he said, turning back to his own computer.
you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. it was just sunghoon, your roommate. nothing more. but the way he had acted, the way he had touched you, it was making it hard to think of him that way.
the room was quiet again, the only sounds the soft clacking of keyboards and the occasional rustle of paper. you were deep in thought, trying to wrap your head around a particularly complex problem when a question popped into your head. on impulse, you asked, “so, sunghoon, what do you do in your free time, when you’re not, you know, studying?”
sunghoon paused, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. a flicker of something, perhaps surprise or amusement, passed across his face before he responded smoothly, “free time is a luxury for a computer science student, don’t you think? but when i do find a spare moment, i usually spend it reading or exploring new coding languages.”
his answer was polite, but it felt rehearsed, as if he'd prepared a response for just such a question. a sense of curiosity sparked within you. you’d always thought sunghoon was a bit of an enigma, but this was a new level of intrigue.
curiosity, a persistent itch, prodded you to ask something more than just about schoolwork.
“hey, i was curious about this” you started, your voice barely audible over the hum of the air conditioner, “where are you from?” it was a simple question, one you would normally ask any new acquaintance, but there was something about sunghoon that made you curious about his past.
he paused, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. for a moment, there was a stillness in the room that was almost palpable. then, with a casual shrug, he replied, "oh, just a small town. nothing interesting." the response was swift, deflecting your question with ease.
confused, you returned to your code, but your mind was racing. there was something off about sunghoon, something that had intrigued you from the moment you met him. you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there were strange little details that had started to accumulate.
there were those odd instances – like the time you'd woken up in the middle of the night to find the kitchen light on and sunghoon standing at the counter, completely motionless, his eyes glowing an eerie red. or the way he seemed to have an uncanny ability to appear and disappear without a sound. and then there was the peculiar lack of a reflection in any mirror in his room.
these memories surfaced, sharp and clear, as if your brain was piecing together a puzzle it didn't know existed. you shook your head, dismissing the thoughts as overactive imagination. after all, sunghoon was just your roommate, a fellow computer science student. nothing more, nothing less.
a yawn escaped your lips as you stretched, the late hour finally catching up with you. “i think i’m going to call it a night,” you announced, rubbing your eyes. the weight of the unanswered questions about sunghoon was beginning to feel heavy.
sunghoon nodded, his gaze fixed on the computer screen. “alright, good night then. i’ll probably stay up a bit longer.”
you nodded in response, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. as you stood up, you glanced down at the floor. something was off. the soft glow from sunghoon’s computer cast long shadows on the floor, including a distinct one from his chair. but there was no shadow of sunghoon himself. the spot where his shadow should have been was empty, an inky void against the illuminated floor.
a chill ran down your spine. your heart pounded in your ears. your mind raced, trying to come up with a logical explanation, but nothing made sense. you snatched up your bag, your movements jerky and panicked. without a second thought, you fled back to your room, the door slamming shut behind you. you fumbled with the lock, your hands trembling. only when you heard the satisfying click of the lock did you allow yourself to breathe.
your heart pounded in your ears as you leaned against the cool metal of your door. the realisation of what you had seen was slowly sinking in. no human lacked a shadow. it was impossible. a chill ran down your spine.
you tried to rationalise it away. maybe there was a draft, or a trick of the light. but deep down, you knew better. something was profoundly wrong, and it was connected to sunghoon. the friendly, quiet roommate you thought you knew was now shrouded in an unsettling mystery.
you glanced at the clock. it was late, and exhaustion was starting to creep in. you needed to sleep, to clear your head. but how could you sleep with this looming over you? you decided to distract yourself by pulling out a book from your shelf, hoping the words would drown out the unsettling thoughts.
as you turned the pages, your mind kept drifting back to sunghoon. his unusual behaviour, the absence of his shadow, it all fit together into a terrifying puzzle. you tried to shake off the feeling, but it was like a persistent itch you couldn't scratch.
sleep finally claimed you, but it was restless. your dreams were filled with shadows, long and menacing, closing in on you. you woke up with a start, your heart racing. the first light of dawn was filtering through your curtains. you got out of bed and went to the window. the world outside looked ordinary, peaceful. but you knew the truth was far from it.
something was wrong with sunghoon, and you were determined to find out what.
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the days following your unsettling discovery were a blur of forced normalcy. you tried to interact with sunghoon as if nothing was amiss, but the weight of your knowledge cast a long shadow over your interactions. you found yourself avoiding his gaze, your voice trembling when you spoke to him.
sunghoon seemed oblivious to your discomfort at first. he’d always been a quiet person, so his reserved nature didn’t raise any immediate suspicion. however, as the days turned into weeks, his patience began to wear thin.
"hey, are you free to study together tomorrow?" he asked one evening as you were both making dinner. his tone was casual, but you could detect a hint of underlying disappointment.
your heart skipped a beat. you’d been avoiding his study invitations, coming up with increasingly elaborate excuses. the truth hung heavy in the air, a tangible thing between you. you hesitated, your mind racing.
"i... i’m really busy tomorrow," you stammered, your voice barely audible. "maybe next week?"
disappointment flashed across sunghoon’s face before he masked it with a forced smile. "sure, no problem," he replied, his voice flat.
as he turned away, you couldn't shake the feeling of guilt. you'd hurt him, and you knew it.
the night was a descent into terror. you dreamt of shadows, long and menacing, closing in on you. sunghoon was there, but not as you knew him. his eyes burned with an unnatural light, and his form was distorted, monstrous. you were running, but your legs were leaden, and the shadows were gaining on you. a scream built in your throat, but no sound escaped.
you woke with a start, drenched in sweat. your heart pounded like a drumbeat in your chest. panic washed over you as you gasped for air. you were disoriented, unsure of where you were. a noise from the living room startled you, and you jumped out of bed.
the light was on, and there, standing in the doorway, was sunghoon, his face etched with concern. before you could react, you found yourself lunging at him, your hands grasping at his neck. he didn't fight back, instead, he held you tightly, his arms wrapping around you protectively.
your sobs racked your body as you clung to him, finding solace in his warmth. he shushed you softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. gradually, your breathing began to slow, and your body relaxed.
when you finally calmed down, sunghoon gently guided you back to bed. he sat on the edge, running a comforting hand through your hair. you clung to him, your fear slowly dissipating.
in the quiet that followed, you felt a strange urge to confide in him. your voice was barely a whisper when you began, "i dreamt of you... as something... different."
sunghoon stiffened, but his grip on you didn't loosen. something flashed behind his eyes, but he listened intently as you recounted the terrifying details of your nightmare. when you finished, he was silent for a long moment. finally, he whispered, "go back to sleep," and you felt him lean down to kiss your forehead.
with that, he quietly left the room, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.
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the days that followed were a careful ballet of avoidance. you moved through your days with a practised detachment, constructing an invisible wall between yourself and sunghoon. the weight of your decision pressed down on you like a physical burden. despite the burgeoning crush that had blossomed in the quiet corners of your heart, you'd created a formidable wall between yourself and sunghoon. his enigmatic nature, coupled with the unsettling discoveries you'd made, had convinced you to keep him at arm's length. it was a lonely existence, a self-imposed exile that offered a semblance of safety.
your days were a monotonous cycle of lectures, assignments, and solitary meals. you'd found solace in the company of your classmate, lee heeseung, his cheerful demeanour a stark contrast to the storm raging within you. yet, even as you laughed and shared stories with him, a part of you longed for the quiet intensity of sunghoon's presence.
in the vast, impersonal lecture hall, you’d sought refuge in the anonymity of the crowd. but even here, you couldn't escape the weight of your decision. a persistent sense of being watched gnawed at you, a constant reminder of the eyes that followed your every move. and you knew very well who it was. it was during one such lecture that the tension reached a breaking point.
you were engrossed in your notes when a subtle shift in the atmosphere caught your attention. a cold prickle ran down your spine as you slowly turned your head. there, in the row behind you, sat sunghoon, his gaze fixed intently on you. his expression was a complex interplay of emotions - longing, pain, and a flicker of something darker.
your heart pounded in your chest as a wave of guilt washed over you. you'd hurt him, pushed him away without a second thought. in that moment, as his eyes held yours, you realised the depth of your own cowardice.
not to mention, with each passing night your nightmares had intensified. each night a descent into a darker, more terrifying realm. sleep, once a refuge, had transformed into a battlefield, leaving you exhausted and on edge. the physical toll was evident - dark circles shadowed your eyes, and your skin had started to take on a sickly pallor.
despite your deteriorating condition, you continued to maintain your distance from sunghoon. guilt gnawed at you, but fear held you captive. yet, in the aftermath of each nightmare, you found yourself seeking solace in his presence. he’d sit by your bed his silent vigil a comforting anchor in the storm of your nightmares. his touch, gentle and reassuring, had become a lifeline, pulling you back from the brink of despair.
one particularly harrowing night, you woke up screaming, your body drenched in sweat. sunghoon was by your side almost instantly, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. as your fear subsided, you began to recount the nightmare, your voice trembling.
"i... i dreamt of a place," you managed to say, your words halting. "a dark place, with... with strange symbols."
sunghoon's grip tightened around you. "and you were alone," he finished for you, his voice low and soothing.
your eyes widened in shock. how could he know what you had dreamt about? you hadn’t even managed to complete your story. yet, sunghoon had described it perfectly, as if he had been there with you.
a chill ran down your spine. you pulled away from him, your eyes filled with fear and confusion. sunghoon simply looked at you, his expression unreadable, before turning and leaving the room.
what did this mean? how could sunghoon know about your nightmares? the answers were as elusive as ever, but one thing was certain: the line between the ordinary and the extraordinary was blurring, and you were caught in the crossfire.
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the nightmares ceased as abruptly as they had begun. you woke each morning feeling refreshed, the spectre of terror finally lifted from your shoulders. a sense of relief washed over you, but it was tinged with a strange melancholy. the nightly visits from sunghoon, a comforting ritual amidst the chaos, were now absent.
initially, you welcomed the return to normalcy. the constant fear and exhaustion had taken a toll on you, and the ability to sleep soundly was a precious gift. but as days turned into weeks, a nagging sense of unease crept in. sunghoon's absence, once a welcome respite, now felt like a void.
you started noticing subtle changes in him. his eyes, once bright and alert, were now shadowed by dark circles. his once sharp features seemed softened by fatigue. it was as if a weight was pressing down on him, a burden he carried alone.
a pang of guilt struck you. perhaps your avoidance had contributed to his deteriorating condition. you wanted to reach out, to offer support, but fear held you back. what if your presence only made things worse? what if you discovered something terrifying?
you longed to reach out to him, to offer solace and support, but the words remained trapped in your throat. the fear of rejection, of further pushing him away, paralyzed you. it was a cruel irony that the person you yearned to comfort was the one causing you the most pain. 
the afternoon sun beat down on the bustling campus as you made your way towards the nearest convenience store. the promise of a refreshing popsicle was the only thing that could lure you away from the confines of your dorm room. with a popsicle clutched in your hand, you emerged from the store, ready to face the world, one frozen treat at a time.
just as you were about to savour the first bite, heeseung materialised beside you, his infectious grin lighting up his face. "arcade?" he suggested, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. you nodded, the prospect of a distraction proving too tempting to resist.
you split the popsicle down the middle, the sweet, icy treat a welcome respite from the oppressive heat. as you handed one half to heeseung, a strange sensation washed over you. it was as if a cold draft had swept across your skin, a shiver that had nothing to do with the melting popsicle in your hand.
instinctively, you turned around, your heart pounding in your chest. there, on the other side of the road, stood sunghoon, his figure cast in the harsh sunlight. his eyes, usually guarded, were fixed on you with an intensity that bordered on hostility. a scowl marred his usually indifferent features, and his jaw was clenched tightly.
you offered a timid smile, a feeble attempt to bridge the chasm between you. but his gaze remained unwavering, cold and unforgiving. with a final, contemptuous glance, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.
a wave of guilt and confusion washed over you. you'd hurt him, you knew that. but the intensity of his reaction was unexpected, almost frightening. as you turned back to heeseung, you forced a smile, determined to push the unsettling encounter to the back of your mind.
the encounter with sunghoon left a bitter taste in your mouth. his hostile glare had shattered the fragile peace you'd been cultivating. as you and heeseung made your way to the arcade, your mind raced, trying to decipher the meaning behind sunghoon's outburst. had your avoidance pushed him to the brink? or was there something more sinister at play?
the arcade, with its flashing lights and the cacophony of sound, offered a temporary escape from the turmoil within. you lost yourself in the rhythm of the games, the competitive spirit temporarily drowning out the unsettling incident. yet, even as you laughed and cheered with heeseung, your mind kept drifting back to sunghoon, his angry gaze burning into your memory.
as the afternoon wore on, a sense of unease settled over you. the carefree atmosphere of the arcade couldn't mask the growing storm within. the incident with sunghoon had opened a wound, a raw and painful reminder of the complex dynamics between you.
you glanced at heeseung, his laughter infectious, and felt a pang of guilt. he was doing everything to lift your spirits, to distract you from your troubles. but your mind was elsewhere, trapped in a labyrinth of doubt and fear.
the walk back to your dorm was a solitary affair. the campus, usually bustling with activity, seemed deserted. with each step, the weight of your worries grew heavier. the encounter with sunghoon had forced you to confront the reality of the situation. you couldn't continue to bury your head in the sand, hoping that the problem would resolve itself.
the weight of the day pressed down on you as you unlocked the apartment door. exhaustion tugged at your limbs, but the lingering unease from your encounter with sunghoon kept your mind racing. 
as you stepped into the living room, a jolt of surprise ran through you. sunghoon was standing in the kitchen, his silhouette outlined by the soft glow of the refrigerator.
there was an unnatural stillness to him, a predatory calm that sent a shiver down your spine. his eyes, when they met yours, held a strange intensity, a glint of something dangerous lurking beneath the surface. "fancy seeing you here," he said, his voice low and measured.
you forced a smile, your heart pounding in your chest. "just got back," you replied, your voice barely a whisper.
he approached you slowly, his steps deliberate. "we have that new assignment," he began, his voice low and seductive. "maybe we could work on it together tomorrow?"
your mind raced, trying to come up with an excuse. "i'm... i'm pretty busy," you stammered, avoiding his gaze.
sunghoon's expression darkened. with a swift movement, he closed the distance between you, cornering you against the kitchen counter, his hands grabbing your hips. his proximity was unnerving, his scent, a mix of wood and something faintly sweet, filling your senses. you could feel his breath on your skin, hot and heavy. 
"don't lie to me," he hissed, his voice low and menacing. "i know what's going on."
his grip tightened around you, and you winced. 
"it's nothing," you insisted, your voice trembling. "just... busy."
"busy with heeseung?" he spat out, his jealousy evident in his tone. his eyes narrowed, and you could see the anger simmering beneath the surface.
your face flushed with embarrassment. he was taking this the wrong way. “it’s not like that,” you stammered, your voice barely a whisper.
sunghoon's grip tightened, pinning you against the cool surface of the counter. his breath was warm against your skin, and a strange sensation, a mix of fear and excitement, coursed through your veins.
“don’t lie to me,” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “you're avoiding me.”
you didn't know why, but the power dynamic between you and sunghoon was intoxicating. he had never behaved this way before let alone showcase jealousy so blatantly. it was hot. you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. 
before you could respond, you found yourself leaning in, your lips brushing against his. it was an impulsive act, a desperate attempt to silence him, to end the confrontation. but, to your surprise, he responded, his lips moving against yours with a gentle intensity.
the world seemed to slow down as the kiss deepened. but as quickly as it had begun, it ended. you pulled away, your heart pounding in your chest.
overwhelmed by a rush of emotions, you turned and fled to your room, slamming the door behind you. you leaned against the door, panting, your mind racing. 
the realisation of what you had done hit you like a tidal wave. you had kissed your roommate, a person you were actively avoiding due to a growing sense of fear and unease. the implications of your actions were terrifying. you'd crossed a line, a boundary you had carefully constructed to protect yourself.
a series of frantic knocks on the door jolted you out of your stupor. it was sunghoon, his voice muffled through the wood. "open up, please," he pleaded. your heart pounded in your chest. you couldn't face him now. you needed time to process what had happened, to regain control of the situation.
the knocking continued for a few minutes before finally ceasing. silence enveloped the room, heavy and oppressive. you slid down the door, your body trembling. what had you done?
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morning arrived with a sense of foreboding. the thought of facing sunghoon filled you with dread, but the need to uncover the truth was stronger. you waited until the sound of his footsteps faded down the hallway, a sign that he had left for his morning jog.
with a deep breath, you crept into sunghoon's room, a sense of trepidation gnawing at you. the room was immaculate, a stark contrast to the chaos that often reigned in your own space. everything had its place, every surface spotless. there were no hidden compartments, no secret drawers, no clues to the enigmatic man who inhabited this space.
disappointment washed over you. you'd hoped to find something, anything that would explain the strange occurrences, the unsettling behaviour. but the room held no secrets, only a sense of emptiness.
your eyes scanned the room, searching for any hidden compartments or secret passages. everything seemed ordinary, almost mundane. disappointment was beginning to creep in when your gaze fell on a small cabinet tucked beneath sunghoon's desk. it was always locked, a tantalising enigma that had piqued your curiosity countless times.
today, however, there was a change. a key was lodged in the lock, an open invitation to delve into the forbidden. a wave of hesitation washed over you. you were invading his privacy, crossing a line you had sworn never to cross. but the allure of the unknown was too strong. curiosity, like a relentless tide, pulled you forward.
with trembling hands, you grasped the key and turned it. the lock clicked open with a satisfyingly smooth sound. you slid open the cabinet door, your heart pounding in your chest. a mini-fridge, small and unassuming, greeted you. a wave of relief washed over you. so this was the secret? a hidden stash of snacks?
you reached out to open the fridge door, a smirk playing on your lips. but as the cool air enveloped you, your blood ran cold.
inside, lined up neatly on the shelves, were rows of blood bags. the crimson liquid glinted in the dim light, a chilling contrast to the sterile white plastic. the sight was so surreal, so utterly horrifying, that for a moment, you thought you were hallucinating.
your mind went blank. a wave of nausea washed over you as you stared at the horrifying contents of the fridge. this couldn't be real. this was a nightmare, a twisted hallucination. but the cold, hard truth stared back at you, undeniable and terrifying.
the world tilted as your legs gave way, sending you crashing to the knees. blood bags. sunghoon kept blood bags. your roommate, the seemingly normal guy you knew, was a… vampire? the very concept seemed absurd, ripped from the pages of a fantasy novel. yet, the evidence sat before you, a stark reality that defied logic.
panic clawed at your throat, but a desperate hope flickered within you. maybe it was a medical condition. maybe he had a strange blood fetish. anything but a vampire!
"vampires don't exist, do they?", you mutter to yourself still in shock.
"yes, they do," a low voice confirmed, sending a tremor through your entire body. you spun around, scream caught in your throat. sunghoon stood in the doorway, his face unreadable, his eyes a bottomless well of emotions.
shame washed over you in a tidal wave. you felt exposed, not just for snooping, but for the fear and disgust that clouded your mind.
jumping out the window, a ridiculous notion moments ago, now seemed like the only way out. here, trapped in this surreal nightmare, your only escape seemed to be a dramatic leap from the fourth floor. it wouldn't kill you, right? you’d only break a few bones at best, which you were absolutely okay with. 
with a burst of adrenaline, you scrambled to your feet and bolted towards the window, desperation fueling your actions. but before you could reach the latch, a hand clamped around your waist, pulling you back with an iron grip. "don't even think about it," sunghoon's voice was a low growl, the air crackling with unspoken emotions.
you were pinned against his chest, his warmth a stark contrast to the chilling terror that gripped you. his eyes, no longer cold and distant, burned with a mix of anger and concern.
his words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the wildness of your actions. you struggled against his hold, your fear fueling your resistance. but there was an undeniable strength in him, a power that held you captive.
"please, let me go," you gasped, your voice trembling.
sunghoon's grip loosened slightly, and he took a step back. his eyes held a mixture of concern and something else, something you couldn't quite decipher. "i won't hurt you," he said, his voice soft. "i need to explain."
your eyes met his, a mixture of fear and confusion swirling in their depths. sunghoon seemed to read your mind, his expression softening as he took a step closer. he sighed, a heavy exhale that seemed to carry the weight of centuries.
"i know this is a lot to take in," he began, his voice low and steady. "but i need you to trust me."
you nodded, your mind racing. there was something about his tone, a vulnerability beneath the hardened exterior, that compelled you to listen.
"i'm a vampire," he said, the words hanging heavy in the air. "it's not how i wanted things to be, but it's the reality i've been forced to live with."
he paused, his eyes searching your face for any signs of revulsion. but to your surprise, a strange sense of calm washed over you. this was the answer, the missing piece to the puzzle.
he went on to explain his existence, the centuries of solitude, and the desperate hope that had brought him to you. he talked about the blood bags, a necessary evil to sustain his life.
he continued, his voice laced with a hint of vulnerability. "i’ve been alone for so long. i've tried to live a normal life, to blend in. and then i met you."
his gaze softened, a tender look replacing the earlier intensity. "you're my anchor, my reason to keep going. your nightmares, the ones you've been having, are a connection between us. we share them, a soulmate bond, if you will. it's the only way for me to experience human emotions, to feel truly alive."
the revelation was mind-boggling. a vampire? your soulmate? it was a story straight out of a gothic novel. yet, as he spoke, a sense of peace washed over you. there was a truth in his eyes, a vulnerability that resonated with your own.
without thinking, you reached out and hugged him. your arms wrapped around him, offering comfort and acceptance. he froze, surprised by your sudden embrace.
"i don't care," you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest. "i'll figure it out. we'll figure it out together."
he returned the hug, his arms tightening around you. his face was buried in your neck, his breath warm against your skin. you could feel his heart pounding against your chest, a rhythm that mirrored your own. in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his embrace, fear and confusion faded, replaced by a sense of hope and possibility.
"i'm so sorry about the nightmares," he murmured, his voice filled with regret. "i stopped sleeping for a while, trying to find a way to stop them. i hated seeing you scared, all because of me."
your heart ached for him. he had sacrificed his own well-being to protect you. anger and concern warred within you. how could he be so selfless, so reckless? you pushed against his chest, needing to see his face, to read the emotions swirling in his eyes.
"don't be stupid," you scolded, your voice stern. "you can't just stop sleeping."
you gently pushed against his chest, trying to create some distance between you. you needed to see his face, to gauge his sincerity.
"stop," he whined, his voice laced with playful annoyance. "just stay like this for a little longer."
his words were a stark contrast to the seriousness of the situation, but they had the desired effect. you froze, your body responding to the unexpected shift in tone. sunghoon's grip tightened around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. his lips brushed against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. the warmth of his breath mingled with the scent of his skin, creating an intoxicating blend that clouded your senses.
you were caught in a whirlwind of emotions, fear and confusion replaced by a growing sense of intimacy. the line between platonic comfort and something more was blurring, and you were dangerously close to crossing it.
his voice dropped to a low octave, a husky rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "i can't stop thinking about how your lips felt against mine last night," he confessed, his breath warm against your skin. he pulled back, his eyes holding yours, a mischievous glint in their depths. 
"can we do that again?" he asked, his voice laced with playful arrogance.
before you could respond, his lips were on yours, claiming your mouth with a fierce urgency. the kiss was a whirlwind, a tempest of emotions and sensations. his tongue explored your mouth, demanding entrance, while your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. the kiss was different from the one you had shared the night before, filled with a newfound urgency and intensity. his tongue explored your mouth, a dance of desire and longing. you could feel the heat radiating from his body, a warmth that was both intoxicating and terrifying.
his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer. with a swift movement, he lifted you onto the bed, his lips trailing a path of fire down your neck. he nuzzled your skin, his breath creating a tingling sensation. "you smell so good," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "i had to stop myself from pouncing on you the first time i saw you." 
"from now on, you're sleeping in my bed," he declared, his voice firm. "i need to make sure those nightmares don't come back. and besides, i like having you close."
as he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. in this moment, with sunghoon holding you close, everything else seemed to fade away. the line between reality and fantasy blurred, replaced by a single, undeniable truth: you were in the arms of a vampire, and you were dangerously close to falling in love.
his lips trailed down your neck, with such heat that it left you breathless. he nibbled at your skin, his teeth gently scraping against your sensitive flesh. the sensation was both painful and exhilarating, a heady mix of fear and desire. you gasped, your body arching involuntarily. 
"i'm not going to bite you," he promised, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. 
"not yet, at least."
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𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr
˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱
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strang3lov3 · 6 months
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Chevelle
Summary- (joel miller x virgin!reader) Joel figures out that you’re the one who hit his baby, his precious 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle. He needs you to make it right, but he doesn’t want your money ❤️‍🔥🍆 (5k words)
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Tags- MDNI hot girls can’t drive, implied age gap, virgin!reader, we're calling him tender dark!joel, soft!dom joel, tender dubcon (power imbalance, joel solicits sex from reader, no explicit consent but reader is into it) reader has a luscious bush, Joel walks you through handjobs, blowjobs, fingering, oral, unprotected piv, creampie, come eating, loss of virginity. Joel is clothed and reader is not.
A/N- Writing this is how I spent my spring break. Hope you love it 🩵 Thank you @noxturnalpascal for all of your help editing and your encouragement.
Based on mine and @beefrobeefcal shared prompt where we asked, "What would happen if reader damaged Joel’s vehicle?” Her fic is here and it’s one of my favorite things I’ve read!! Kiki has such a beautiful voice in her writing and I love all the details she adds to her fics.
Pawn shop by @toxicanonymity came to mind when I wrote this story and was a source of inspiration. Also worth a read, I have nothing but love for Tox’s writing 🩷
It’s late when you get off your shift at Tony’s, the shitty Italian restaurant you’ve been working at for far too long. It doesn’t pay much and you’ve considered working a new job to save up and move out of your brother’s house, but you’ve been putting that idea off for a variety of reasons. One of them being Joel. 
Joel’s your neighbor, a sexy, older man you’ve got a certain fondness for. His hair used to be more brown but it’s grayer now, same with the scruff on his face. He’s got sparkling, chocolatey eyes and a sharp nose set above a thick, downturned mustache. He always looks a little dirty when you see him, with dirt caked into his forehead wrinkles and grease smeared along his temple or his jaw. He’s always either fresh off a contracting job or working on his car. He’s got this cute little Chevy he spends his nights and weekends with, a 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle, baby blue.
Joel was one of the first people to welcome you to the neighborhood and even helped you move your stuff into your brother’s house, though helping you implies he let you do any work. Joel offered you a pop from his fridge and then took over entirely, putting both himself and your brother to work moving all of your stuff in. You didn’t lift a finger that day. 
-
You can’t seem to pull your eyes from the little green glowing letters on your dash, watching letters and numbers on the screen roll on by. 12:37 A.M. 101.9. Paper Bag - Fiona Apple.  You’re so out of it. You yawn and blink a couple of times, focusing back on the narrow roads of your neighborhood. It’s so poorly lit over here, and it doesn’t help that one of your headlights is out. Joel’s been bugging you to let him fix that, he says it’ll only take five minutes.
You turn onto your street and bam. You’re wide awake now. You just hit something. 
You hit Joel’s car. Joel’s fucking car. What the fuck is it doing on the street? He always has it safely kept in his garage. Oh dear god, the panic is setting in. This is Joel’s baby. You just hit his baby, his pride and joy. 
You can’t even bring yourself to assess the damage you’ve inflicted upon his dear Chevy. Probably dented to shit, but you don’t really wanna know. Instead, you just pull your foot off the brake, press your remote control garage door opener, then pull into your garage as you press your lips together tightly. You’re surprised and relieved to find that there’s hardly a scratch on your own car. Joel won’t know. He won’t.
The next morning, you’re sipping on your coffee as you check your mailbox. Joel’s outside his house, loading up his work truck with some tools and supplies. He waves to you and you wave back, a small stack of mail in your hand. 
“Whose mail you got today, sweetheart?” he calls to you. 
You check the names on some of the letters. “Davidsons’ and Pierces’,” you answer through a chuckle. Joel rolls his eyes and laughs. The incompetent mailman is a running joke amongst yourself, Joel, and your other neighbors. He never seems to deliver anything to the right address, so you and your neighbors are often hand delivering each other your misplaced mail.
You laugh with Joel until you notice his smile disappear. He’s narrowing his eyes on his Chevy. Your heart drops as he steps closer to the vehicle, then pinches his nose in frustration. Fuck. Joel stomps back to his work truck, haphazardly tosses something in the bed and then slams the tailgate. Yeah, he’s fucking pissed. Your neck and your face heat in shame as you quickly run back inside.
-
In the two weeks since Joel’s car was hit, he’s been working to repair it tirelessly. He’s ordered a new tail light, since whoever hit his car shattered it and he’s spent a pretty penny ordering the exact shade of baby blue paint to touch up all of the scratches. Joel only trusts himself to touch his car, but the situation necessitates that he’ll have to take it in to a local repair shop to get the dents out. Fucking fantastic. 
When Joel gets off work tonight, he notices he’s got some packages on his doorstep, hoping it’s the shit he ordered for his car. He’ll open them shortly, but he first notices that one of the packages is addressed to you. Go figure, he thinks, chuckling to himself. He walks the package over to your house, noticing your car is parked outside of the driveway. And it’s backed in too, which is odd. Joel assumes your car must’ve been blocking your brother’s, so he probably played musical chairs with your cars to get his out and then backed yours up onto the driveway. You never back your own car in the driveway, and Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you don’t know how. You probably can’t parallel park, either. He’ll have to show you how to do that sometime.
What’s also new is a bit of baby blue paint on your red Honda Civic’s exterior, right by your headlight, the same headlight he’s been nagging you to let him fix. Joel bites the inside of his cheek. Interesting. He knocks on your door, package in hand, but he’s met with no answer. No biggie. He leaves the package on your porch and goes back to your car, inspecting the paint once more. He scoffs in astonishment and walks home. Unbelievable. 
-
The next evening, you check your mailbox after forgetting to do so earlier. As always, you never have just your own mail. This time you’ve got Joel’s. You walk it over to Joel’s house with the intention of dropping it off on his porch and going back home, not wanting to bother him as he works on his Chevy but his whistle startles you. “Hey you,” he says. “C’mere.”
“O-oh,” you stutter. “I’m just dropping off your–”
“Yeah, I know. Just c’mere a minute,” Joel says. “Got a fuckin’ bone t’pick with you.”
Your palms are beginning to sweat. He doesn’t know anything. Maybe he just wants some company while he works on his car, it wouldn’t be the first time. But still, there’s something about his tone. You step off of his porch and cut through his lawn to get to his garage. Once inside, you help yourself to a root beer from his refrigerator. Something cold and fizzy and sweet to help you calm your nerves.“Oh, sure, help yourself,” Joel mumbles. He notices your fingers slipping off the tab of the pop can and pulls it from your hands, then opens it for you. He’s wearing a stained Prince and the Revolution t-shirt and a slightly too tight pair of jeans that squeeze his ass just so. His garage is decorated with old license plates, posters, other odds and ends. 
“Thank you,” you whisper. 
Joel says nothing as he walks to his work bench. He pulls a lightbulb out of a cardboard box and waves it in your direction, he’s only a couple of feet from you. “Ordered the wrong bulb,” he tells you. 
You can only nod. You think about maybe making a joke about the mailman screwing it up somehow, but you bite your tongue. You don’t trust yourself not to stutter right now.
“M’sure you saw, my baby here’s all banged up,” Joel puts the bulb back in the box and leans against his work bench, facing you. “Happened a couple weeks ago.”
“Mm,” you hum.
“Hit and run, can you believe that?” 
“No, I can’t. That-that’s terrible.”
“I know it is. And here I thought we had a nice neighborhood…” he trails off before speaking again, “You think you know someone, huh.” 
Someone. So he has someone in mind? “Yeah, it’s terrible…what happened to your car. Can’t believe someone would uh…would do that, knowing how you, your car…yeah. Terrible.”
Joel stares at you for a minute before speaking again, taking note of how you can’t seem to hold eye contact with him. He steps closer to you.
“You wouldn’t know a thing about it, right?”
“Yes,” you answer, quickly realizing your word mishap when Joel raises his eyebrows. “No, yeah. I don’t know–yeah, nothing,” you sip your root beer before fidgeting with the pop tab and shifting your weight from one foot to the other. 
Joel notices. “Squirmin’ an awful lot over there, sweetheart. You got something you wanna tell me?” You shake your head, still playing with the tab on the pop can. Joel removes it from your hand, his fingers gracing over yours before placing it on the workbench. He’s moving closer to you now, matching your pace as you walk backward until the back of your legs hit his car. You gasp, he stands so tall and imposing in front of you. “Easy,” he warns. “You be careful with her.”
“Yeah, I know. Always,” you reply. Your voice is beginning to shake. 
Joel hums at your response. “Not always, though, sweetheart. Think you were pretty careless with my baby a couple weeks ago.” 
The familiar pressure behind your eyes is beginning to build as tears are pricking your waterline, “I don’t know what–”
“Awh, don’t do that. Don’t lie t’me.” 
 The tears spill over. You’re caught. You don’t know how Joel figured out what you did, but he did. “You’ve got a guilty conscience, dontcha?”
You nod before you can speak. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. Sobs begin to wrack your body, your tears now flowing freely. You’re so guilty. You should’ve told Joel what happened that night. It was an accident, and he might’ve been mad, but you’ve probably made it worse for yourself with your dishonesty. “I’m so sorry, Joel, it was late and I was so tired–”
Joel pulls you in a tight embrace, stroking your back with his fingertips. “Shhh, I know. I know,” he whispers in your ear,  “S’okay, sweet girl.” 
“It was so…” you try to explain, choking on your sobs and your sniffles. “So late and d-dark and I wasn’t paying attention.”
“I know. Quit your cryin’, s’gonna be fine,” Joel whispers. He pulls away from you, looking at you with those deep brown eyes of his as he wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs. Know you’ll make it up to me.”
“I will,” you agree quickly. “I’ll pick up some more shifts, Joel, and I’ll save and–”
“Oh, no. Not that. Save your money,” he tells you earnestly. “Somethin’ else,” Your eyes follow Joel when he leaves you for a moment to flip a switch on the wall of his garage. Something in the air changes then, a thick, heavy feeling between you both when he makes his way back to you. “Use your head, sweetheart. How are we gonna make it right?”
Your mouth is dry, your tongue swollen as you pick up what Joel’s putting down. “Let me give ya a hint,” Joel grunts, sucking in his gut slightly as he unbuttons his jeans. He wears no underwear, a thatch of coarse hair littering his skin is what you see when he pulls down his zipper. He grips your wrist and shoves your hand beneath the denim where you feel his package, already half hard. It’s warmer, thicker than you would expect. He feels heavy in your palm, his pubic hair wiry and scratchy against your knuckles. 
He doesn’t tilt his head in confusion at your hesitancy. “Don’t know what to do with all this, do ya?”
You shake your head no. “I’ve never…with anyone, before.”
“S’alright. I’ll walk ya through it all,” Joel says, seemingly unsurprised at the revelation. With your hand still on his cock, Joel pulls himself out of his jeans entirely. He’s harder now. “Like this,” he instructs, bringing your hand to his mouth and spitting in it. A pang of arousal fills your gut at the action. He pushes your hand lower and guides you to wrap your hand around his cock. It feels heavy, warm to the touch, sticky with his sweat and his saliva. Rock hard, but smooth like satin. You admire him, his blushed tip, the prominent veins on his shaft. 
Your breath hitches as Joel takes control, using his strong, weathered hand to guide your own to massage his cock. “You got it,” he encourages, sensing your rigidity. “Tighter,” he instructs, squeezing his hand around yours. You’re slow to gain confidence but he’s patient, doing the work himself for now. “You move your hand all the way up, all the way down my cock,” he tells you. 
You nod in understanding. Joel drops his hand but yours stays stroking his member. He sighs and tilts his head backward as you focus on the task at hand. Without the pressure of intense eye contact, you take the opportunity to admire him, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the small drops of sweat rolling down his throat. You’re shy when he smiles at you, quickly averting your attention from him and to his cock, watching the way it twitches beneath your hand, where a little bead of precum forms. Experimentally, you swipe your thumb over the tip. “That’s it,” he whispers, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. He ruts his hips into your hips, “Doin’ just fine.”
You stroke his cock like this for a while, gaining confidence in yourself until he stops you suddenly.
 “Is that it?” 
“Is that it,” Joel mocks with a feigned pout. “No, hon. You banged up my baby pretty good. We ain’t quite square yet.”
His leaking cock bounces against his tummy as he approaches his work bench. Your heart pounds as you can’t quite see what he’s reaching for. “Know it’s new to ya,” he says.  “Just listen to me, s’all you gotta do.”
Joel returns to you with a dirty rag in his hand and lays it on the concrete ground, then reaches for your face. He pulls your bottom lip down and lets it go to watch it bounce back up. “Knees,” he whispers, gently pushing you by your shoulders to the ground. The rag he laid on the concrete for your knees is a sweet touch, all things considered. His cock is inches away from your face as he holds it between his thumb, middle, and forefingers. He presses himself to your lips, encouraging you to open your mouth. “Give it a taste,” he instructs you. “An’ you can kiss it too, if you’re feelin’ amorous.” 
You part your lips and tentatively lick the weeping slit of his thick head just once. After a moment, taking in the saltiness of his precome, you lick him a couple more times, gaining confidence quicker than you did using just your spit soaked hand on him. Bigger stripes now, using more pressure. Like Joel advised, you kiss his cock a couple times, each kiss sloppier than the last before swirling your tongue around the tip. You’re learning it all, the softness of his skin, his musky, heady taste. 
“Give me your hand,” Joel says. “Goes right here,” He wraps your hand around the base of his cock, same as before. He places one of his hands on your head, guiding you closer to him, encouraging you to take him deeper now. You do as such, sputtering and choking when you get overzealous and take him too quickly.
Joel chuckles, “Not all at once, sweetheart. Go slow. Try it again.” This time, Joel controls the pace at which you take him. He pushes himself into your mouth and senses when it becomes too much, pauses for you. He pulls his hips back, then rocks back into your mouth, building a slow, shallow pace for you to get used to. 
He’s pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. His tip teases the back of your throat as he whispers, “Little more. Be brave,” You gaze up at him, searching his eyes for some sort of approval. He nods with his brows furrowed. “Do it for me, hon.”
You allow him to fuck himself deeper in your mouth now, your eyes pricking with tears as you gag and sputter on his cock. This time, Joel doesn’t stop himself. He’s grunting, groaning, savoring the warmth of your wet, soft mouth. “So good,” he tells you before tapping your hand, reminding you to put it to use.
What you can’t reach with your mouth, you massage with your hand as you cup his balls with your other. You and Joel work in tandem, him drawing in and out of your mouth as you bob your head and flick your tongue against his shaft. Your jaw is sore with the newness of it all, and just as you’re becoming used to the thickness of his cock between your lips and on your tongue, he pauses. “M’gonna stop you now,” Joel mumbles as he pulls out of your mouth, his eyes focused on your swollen lips and how the string of saliva connected from them to his cock breaks. “S’your turn.”
“My turn?”
“Mhm. It’s etiquette, hon,” Joel says with a grunt, lifting you to your feet. He reaches between your bodies and unbuttons your pants, pushing both them and your underwear down your legs. “Always return the favor.” Joel lifts you slightly, sitting your bare ass on the hood of his car, then pulls your pants off your legs the rest of the way. “Arms up,” he tells you. He lifts your shirt off of your body, unhooks your bra and lets it fall to your lap. You’ve never been so vulnerable, so exposed in front of someone before.  Instinctively, you cover your chest with your arms and cross your legs. 
“You’re shy,” he whispers. Joel drapes your clothing over his shoulder before reaching for your arms, removing them from your chest and placing them on either side of your body. “Stay like this,” He holds your knees next, uncrossing your legs and spreading them wide for his view. 
Joel takes in your body and admires your wet cunt, how your thick curls frame it beautifully. A shiver goes down your spine as his eyes scan the rest of your body before he holds intense eye contact with you as he folds your clothes, placing them in a neat pile next to you on his car. You watch his chest rise and fall with steady breaths as he drops to his knees, situating himself between your thighs.
He presses a sloppy kiss against your inner knee, then another on your other leg. He kisses his way up your inner thigh, nipping at your flesh and soothing the marks with his tongue. He holds your legs firmly apart, knowing your instinct is to shut them when he reaches your cunt, his hot breath fanning over your center. “Wider,” he whispers, “I gotcha.”
The once cool metal of Joel’s car is now hot and slick under your sweaty, trembling palms. Your pulse beats as you look up at the garage ceiling, lacking the courage to look at Joel between your thighs. “Relax for me,” he tells you. You try. 
You gasp when he finally begins exploring you, first his thumb parting open your folds. Adding a couple more digits, he hums in satisfaction as he finds you’re already wet, your slick glistening on his fingers. He dips one of those fingers inside of you slowly, watching how you react to his touch. You twitch and fight to keep yourself still and silent as he adds a second finger, curling it rhythmically and stroking that sweet spot inside you. 
“Oh, god,” you moan as he dives into your cunt, the soft and warm, private place between your thighs, his mouth now joining where his fingers touch. His tongue is hot and wet as he drags it through your sex, circling your clit with it. “Joel, please.”
Joel’s satisfied as he hears sounds of pleasure fall from your lips, feeling your hips bucking and grinding gently against his mouth. He sucks one fold, nips at the other as he curls his fingers inside you rhythmically. With the hand that’s not teasing your pussy, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh. “Quit squirmin’ on my car,” he warns with a firm squeeze to your thigh, hard enough to bruise you. “Ya tryin’ to scratch her again?”
His wiry stubble drags across your skin, scratching gently against the inside of your thighs. You can feel it building up quickly, that hot, sparkling feeling deep in your core as he works you, sucks your clit between his lips. 
“Please,” you cry, the only word you can form at the moment. 
“I know, hon,” he murmurs, escalating his efforts on your pussy. Sucking, licking, curling his fingers harder. He works you through your orgasm, feeling you gush against his mouth, your arousal dripping down his fingers and pooling into the palm of his hand. Your hands fly to his scalp, twitching and jerking from the sensitivity with your fingers tugging on his curls when he licks a stripe up the seam of your cunt. 
Joel pulls away from your center with a satisfied grin, lips shiny, his facial hair damp. He rises, standing above you, and sloppily kisses your lips. You’ve never tasted your own arousal before. His strong hands find your ass cheeks, pulling you closer to where he wants you.
From there, you gasp when he slides his cock through your slick folds, rubbing thick head against your sensitive clit and watches how you react to his touch. “What do you think I’m doin’ to ya next?”
“Joel,” you whimper, your hips chasing his movements, following where his cock teases your cunt. 
“Yeah, you know what I’m doin,” he purrs. “Crossin’ it all off your list tonight.”
You tense when he notches just the head of his cock in your pussy, reaching for his arm, his shoulder, any part of him you can hold. 
“Know you’re nervous,” he says softly, rubbing circles into your thighs. “But s’just me an’ you here. Wider, hon. Spread your legs for me.”
You nod quickly, following suit and spreading your legs to accommodate him. “Like this?”
“Yeah, like that. S’perfect, hon, that’s all I need from you. C’mere,” Joel adjusts his hold on you before inching his cock into you a bit more. You’re so tight, squeezing him hard and whining through the stretch as he pushes into you further, the gradual slide inside your body causing him to grunt quietly. “Relax for me,” he groans through a strained breath, parting your insides as he’s sheathed himself inside you fully now. “Bite me f’ya need to, sweetheart. It’ll be okay. You’ll get used to it.”
It aches, but the pain dulls as Joel lets you get used to the feeling, the newness of his cock inside you. He holds you close and you take advantage of his suggestion, biting softly into the flesh of his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin as you whimper quietly. Joel groans, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Shh,” he hushes, “You’re okay, hon. You’re doin’ alright.”
Joel slowly pulls out of you and fills you up again. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he praises as you tilt your hips, opening yourself to accept more of him. You’re humming into his neck as his cock recedes and then pushes in once more. “Eyes on me now. There it is, easy. Easy.”
You do as instructed, pulling your face away from him to meet his gaze. His sparkling brown eyes stay on yours as he pulls out of you, pushing into you slowly, deliberately. You hold onto his neck, his broad shoulders, clutching the fabric of his sweat dampened shirt as he builds a steady pace now. He holds you close to his body, one of his hands traveling up your body and groping your bouncing breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples.
“You just follow my lead,” Joel says, fucking you faster now. His fingers are pressed firmly into your waist now as he rolls his hips against yours. The pain is gone now, dissipated with his continued languid thrusts into you. You feel so full, so satisfied with his thick cock inside you, massaging your insides.
He fucks you steadily but gently, maintaining a quick rhythm. You didn’t know sex could make you feel this way, so much pleasure.  You’re moaning freely, overwhelmed with emotion, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. God, you love it, and it’s nothing but pure pleasure. 
Joel’s not oblivious to your enjoyment. He’s watching you, your face contorting, he’s listening to your moans and your cries, feeling you shiver and twitch beneath his touch and how it’s all because of him, all of your pleasure at the hands of Joel and only ever Joel. He feels a sort of carnal sense of power over this, the effect his touch has on you. You’re soft, so soft and all for him, your flesh for his hands and his teeth alone to squeeze, dig into, to bite on. 
You reach for his arm and guide his hand to your center, pressing his fingers against your clit as that familiar tightness in your gut begins to build once more. “Please,” you beg. 
“Thought this was supposed to be a deal for me. Didn’t need to hit my car f’ya needed me like this,” he taunts, laughing breathlessly. But Joel obliges, of course he obliges you. He moves his calloused fingertips in circles over your clit, coaxing out your release. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. Look at you, m’gonna make you come again. Makin’ out like a fuckin’ bandit, aren’t you?”
Indeed you are. It’s not long before you’re coming for him. With his ministrations on your clit, his thrusts now faster, harder, deeper, you’re coming undone for him as his name pours from your lips, long and slow like honey. With your lips parted open, you’re twitching and shuddering against him as you watch his face, letting yourself go. You whimper and moan, and your release is volcanic in the way it washes over your body so fiercely. Heavy, vivid waves of pleasure washing over you the way lava rolls down the earth. Slow, fiery, intense.
Your pulsing cunt milks Joel’s own climax, his orgasm crashing through him in such a way that he loses focus on you. His eyes screwed shut, the noises he’s making louder than he intended–what starts as a grunt turns into a moan, long and libertine as he fucks you harder than he probably should as you whimper in overstimulation. His thrusts turn harder and frenzied as he milks himself with your cunt, spurting hot ropes of his come inside you. You take everything he gives you, feeling so warm and full of his spend. 
His movements then begin to ease, slowing down some more until he eventually stills inside of you. He takes the quiet moment to check on you, holding your face in his hands as he makes sure you’re okay. Your chest heaves as he wipes your tears, but you silently nod, reassuring him that you’re alright.
With a soft grunt, he pulls out of you. He watches how your combined arousal spills on the baby blue paint of his Chevelle, then uses his thumb to push a bit of his escaped come back inside you. Such a lewd action from the man. 
Joel helps you to your feet, steadying you as you stand on shaky legs. He reaches for your clothes from the hood of his car, helping you dress yourself. “Didn’t want ‘em to get dirty,” he explains. “Everything’s covered in fuckin’ dirt and grease in here.”
“Thank you,” you smile shyly. Joel opens the garage door, the once peachy and blue sky now inky black. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You take off back to your house, but Joel grips your bicep before you can step any further. 
 “Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Ya already hit my car, hon, you don’t wanna leave your mess on the hood now too, do ya?” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on the hood of his Chevelle, swipes his pointer finger through the mess and pushes it between your lips. Your brows furrow at the taste, that salty, heady flavor you’ve never tasted before now. “Use your tongue, sweetheart.”
“You want me…”
“Lick it up,” he instructs in a quiet voice. Joel figured he might’ve let you off too easy, seeing as how you came twice–once on his tongue and once on his cock when this was all supposed to be for him. He bends you over the hood of his car, groping your ass as he leans over your shoulder to inspect your work, making sure it’s a job well done. “Good girl,” he praises, watching you lick his car clean. When you’re done, he kisses you softly.
He walks you home, dropping you off on your doorstep. You’re not quite sure what to say, whether you should apologize again, thank him, say goodnight. Joel fills the silence for you. “Gonna teach you how to drive right one of these days. Keep you out of another mess like this one, hm?” he smirks as he kisses your cheek. “Goodnight, hon.”
If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a comment, and/or send an ask 🩷 your words mean the world to me and your interaction keeps me motivated to write. Love you all <3
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From now on I’ll be sharing cat pics at the end of my fics. Hope you don’t mind 🐈‍⬛😻
4K notes · View notes
jeonsweetpea · 6 months
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Will It Fit?
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Roommate!AU | Roommate!Jungkook x Reader
genre: fluff, smut, comedy, lil angst, slight idiots to lovers
rating: explicit
description: So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can’t exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom…
word count: 6.7k
warnings: size kink, JK has a big dick (no, really), slight pain kink, light choking, dirty talk, Dom!JK, flustered/shy JK at first, unprotected sex (this is fiction, we all wanna be raw-dogged by JK okay), lube, JK loves OC’s panties a LOT, fingering, mentions of masturbation, OC gets embarrassed at first but JK is sweet about it, oral sex (male & female receiving), cursing, Soft Dom!JK, JK is overly concerned with how big your dildo is, embarrassing moments from both parties, spanking, prone bone, creampie, confession scenes, 
a/n: As soon as I saw JK’s OJO face from that GCF, it kicked me into gear to write this. I’ve had this idea for SO long, but never had the motivation to finish it. I was supposed to release it last winter, so hope you’re all excited for it! Asks and reblogs are much appreciated (I read them all!). Also, much love to @jkeuphoriadreamland for bouncing ideas around with me. 
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“[Y/N], I can hear you in there.” 
The muffled, disgruntled voice came from the other side of your door. Your eyes fluttered open and your hand stilled in your panties, your heart rate spiking. Maybe if you didn’t move a muscle, he’d go away. 
“I know you’re up,” he added. You rose up from your bed.
“Um… exactly what did you hear?” you squealed, face burning up at your terrible acting skills.
“Unlock this door.”
You didn't know what compelled you to saunter over and open the door a mere crack, but oh the sight before you was almost worth the humiliation. Jungkook was in nothing but gray sweats that sat dangerously low on his hips. He had a bad case of bedhead, but his locks looked so soft that you wanted nothing more than to grab onto them and make out with his beautiful lips, which were captivating you just as much as that intense gaze of his. 
“Hey… you…” you said with a meek smile, which he did not return.
“It’s 2 AM in the morning. I have work at 5. As hot as you sound, we either do something together so we both get satisfied or you let me get my rest because I am incredibly frustrated right now.”
Your eyes widened at his curt response. You’ve never seen him so tense, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek as his glare bore into you. He leaned against your door frame with one arm, leaning in close enough to make you break eye contact. He tapped on the wooden frame with his index finger, awaiting your response. 
“Sorry…” 
God, you sounded absolutely pathetic . 
“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?” Before you could respond, he let out a tsk sound and retreated back to his bedroom. You stood there in a trance until his door shut loudly, snapping you out of it. You wondered if he realized how much worse he left you than when he found you. 
Fuck, was he always this hot when mad? 
You went back to your room after closing the door. Climbing into bed, you got under the covers and laid flat on your back deep in thought. The only reason you were masturbating in the first place was because your room was freezing cold. You thought the heater was fixed, but your room was somehow still the coldest one in the apartment. You knew you’d never be able to go to sleep at this rate, so you decided to do something that would tire you out and hopefully lull you into the rest you craved.
It was supposed to be simple. You, your hand, your phone, and sweet, sweet release. Damn Jungkook for interrupting you. It’s bad enough his room was nice and toasty while you were suffering. Yeah, you heard his loudass snores. You assumed he was deep in the REM cycle so how the hell did he catch your moans? Ugh.
If he was so annoyed with you, then he should have warmed you up instead!
You shook your head and got under the covers, groaning at your lewd thoughts. 
He’s my roommate. And he’s too good of a roommate for me to fuck things up. 
“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?”
Those words echoed in your mind. The way he changed his tone to a lower register with his Busan dialect slipping through was incredibly sexy. It was the perfect mix of frustration and anger and made your thighs rub together in want. Leaning over your nightstand, you opened the drawer and grabbed a velvet drawstring bag. Slipping off your pajama shorts, you pulled out your trusty dildo. Impatient, you closed your eyes and imagined Jungkook taking you right then and there. However, the moment you allowed the tip of the dildo to touch your entrance, all pleasure was lost. It was cold!
“Damn it…” you muttered. “I gotta warm it up. Ugh!”
You left your room in frustration and entered the bathroom, turning the sink on to the hottest setting and running it over your toy. 
This might’ve been the most desperate masturbation session you’ve ever had, but you didn’t care. This was all Jungkook’s fault!
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The next morning was Saturday. You were eating your breakfast on the kitchen island while mindlessly scrolling on your phone when Jungkook came out of his room. As soon as you two locked eyes, you almost choked on your food and had to chug some water to calm down. The man, confused, ruffled his hair and watched you through drowsy eyes.
“Are you okay?” he said, followed by a yawn. 
You nodded as you beat your chest with your fist to get everything down. “Yeah… I just… didn’t expect you to be home. I thought you had work.”
“Oh,” He sounded more awake now. “I read my schedule wrong. Turns out I’m off every other Saturday now.”
“... Oh. Cool.”
He circled around the kitchen island to get to the fridge and you recalled last night’s events, mortified he had heard you. Should you apologize again? After all, you’re both two grown adults; there’s nothing to be ashamed about. If you didn’t say something now, that icky feeling would only fester inside you. 
“Hey Jungkook.”
“Yeah?” he said from behind the fridge door.
“About yesterday… I hope you can forget all about it.”
As the refrigerator door shut, you were greeted by the sight of the most adorable man sipping a carton of banana milk. His eyes were wide and brimming with curiosity from your words. 
“Did something happen yesterday? I was knocked out.”
You blinked at him twice. “Do you… not remember talking to me last night?”
“Hmm? I did? I was fast asleep, don’t remember a thing.” He took the seat next to you. “Why? What did we talk about?”
Pure relief washed over you like a tidal wave as you shook your head. “Oh, nothing much. My room’s a bit too cold. It was hard for me to sleep.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll talk to the landlord. Do you want to sleep with me?” You shot him an incredulous look and he began to stutter. “I-I mean! Sleep in my bed! Not with me in it. Unless you wanted to—ah—fuck me!
There. That’s the Jungkook you knew. He’s never crossed the line and flirted with you, so you didn’t either out of respect. But… It was too hard to resist teasing him. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up.
“Unless I wanted to… fuck you?” you repeated innocently. This was new territory for you—teasing him. His flustered reactions were so damn adorable though. The way his nose scrunched and his eyes darted around everywhere except for your face. If anyone was watching you, they’d swore you had hearts in your eyes. 
He set his drink down and proceeded to cover his face with both hands, panicking at his poor choice of words. “That didn’t come out right. Oh god… this is embarrassing.”
You covered your mouth to stifle your giggles. “It’s okay. I don’t want to peg you—I mean, take your bed.”
Jungkook dropped his hands, speaking the next sentence in pouts. “Hey, I don’t want to be peg—not the point. No, seriously. My room’s really warm.”
“I mean… if you really want me in your room, all you have to do is ask, you know,” you remarked. Jungkook’s cheeks were flushed with a tinge of pink, adding an extra charming element to his already cute self. Were you being too bold? 
It didn’t matter because seeing how his lips trembled and how he could barely hold himself together was fun to watch.
“I didn’t realize it was that easy…” he mumbled, more to himself than you. You tilted your head at him and he noticed how you crossed one arm over another “Not that I’m calling you easy!”
“Uh huh. I’m watching you, Jeon Jungkook. Hmph.”
“No, wait. I’m sorry.”
You placed your index finger on his lips to shush him, even going so far as to tap his lip piercing teasingly. “Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?” 
You watched as his eyes widened once more and that caused you to realize what you were doing. My god. Using his own words against him was satisfying, but all this newfound confidence was going to get you in trouble. You cleared your throat and withdrew your hand, grabbing your breakfast plate and heading over to the sink before things could escalate.
“Uh… I’m gonna go to the gym. Run some errands or something,” Jungkook stammered as he got up, nearly toppling out of his stool. You bit your lip to hold in your laughter as he recomposed himself. Walking in the same direction, he flinched when you got near his proximity. “W-What are you doing?”
He’s so cute when nervous.
“Nothing. Grabbing my keys. I’m heading out too.”
“O-Okay.”
Your smile made his heart rate escalate. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”
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You spent the day with your closest friends on a brunch date, followed by a trip to the mall, and then hot cocoa in the evening. It was much needed after the week you had and after bidding them farewell, you went back to your apartment. Upon entering, you took off your shoes and put them on the shoe rack.
“Jungkook? Are you home?” you called out. 
“Yeah! I just finished showering!” he called back in the distance. You went further into the apartment and plopped down on the couch. 
“Damn,” you muttered, rubbing your arms. “Wish I could have showered with him. It’s so cold outside…”
As if on cue, Jungkook called for you again. “[Y/N]? Could you come here?”
You took off your purse and slowly rose up from the couch, hesitant. This had to be a dream. Why would he need you to come to the bathroom? He must’ve forgotten a towel. Or a t-shirt. Or pants. The specifics didn’t really matter because your hormones were going berserk at the possibilities. 
You walked through the narrow hallway and stood in front of the bathroom door, excited at the thought of teasing him again. “I’m here. What’s up? Did you forget your towel or something? Silly boy.”
The door swung open and the shit-eating grin you had on your face dropped to the floor in an instant. 
“Why is there a dildo in the bathroom, silly girl?”
Shit. Quick, say something. Anything. Don’t just stand there like a gaping fish! Oh dear, how many seconds have passed? You must look like a total idiot.
Fuck! I forgot I left it here!!!
“Well…” you started to say, “I’m assuming it’s yours.”
Out of all the things your roommate could be calling you for, this was not on your radar. The awkwardness was more suffocating than the steam from his blazing hot shower minutes ago and you wished it lingered around long enough to make you disappear. 
Jungkook made a puckered face at your accusation, picked up the object, and shook it side to side, the bendy silicone material flopping everywhere. His big doe eyes were the highlight of his classic OJO face, the blatant confusion so adorable if you weren’t absolutely mortified. For the second time this week. 
God, and how could you even focus when he was dressed in nothing but a towel, his hair still slightly damp. The bulging muscles of his biceps were a feast for the eyes as well as his tattooed sleeve. You yearned for the day he’d use his arm as your necklace, but of course that shouldn’t be a priority at the moment. If anything, it was his fault you had to use a dildo anyway.
“[Y/N], you know damn well this isn’t mine.” He met your gaze and flashed you a soft smile, biting his lower lip. “I like mine bigger.”
You covered your face in shame, wishing the floor could open up and swallow you whole. “Good god, Jeon.”
“You still didn’t answer my question. Why is it in the bathroom?”
You gulped, finding enough strength to not die of embarrassment. “It’s getting colder outside and the heater doesn’t reach my room as well as it reaches yours. So…”
“Yeah…? But I’m not following.”
“The… thing in your hand—”
“Dildo?”
You visibly cringed. “Yes, okay, THAT. It got cold and I don’t like cold objects... Inside me. So I took it to the bathroom to run hot water on it to warm it up.”
“Before you use it?”
“No, to melt it. Yes, to use it!” you snapped, feeling the humiliation burning through your body. “I wasn’t aware you weren’t working today, remember? I clean it after each use so please just give it back!”
You ran over to yank it out of his hands, but he lifted it up high out of your reach. While cackling. That motherfucker. “Hey, maybe I want a turn.”
You had to bite back. “I knew you liked being pegged.”
“I do not!”
“Then give it back!”
“This thing is huge though. It fits?”
“I’m not having this conversation with you right now.” You jumped up but failed to reach it due to his quick reflexes. 
“Doesn’t it hurt? Because if something this big went up my—”
“Jungkook!”
“I’m just saying!” he said with his arms up in the air like you were about to tase him. “I find it hard to believe, that’s all. It’s really big. Like damn.”
Without thinking, you ripped his towel off his waist and he gasped, scrambling to shield his privates while you seized the opportunity to get your toy back.
You stormed out of the bathroom and ran to your room, locking the door afterwards. Falling to your knees, the embarrassment caught up to you, causing you to hang your head low in shame. You could hear the soft shuffling sounds of his footsteps approaching your door, followed by a gentle knock.
“[Y/N]? Are you okay?” He pressed his ear against the door to hear small sniffles. “Shit. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you upset. I was teasing, I thought you wanted to tease me back and—I guess I took it too far.”
“Go away, Jeon,” you said, throwing the dildo at the door. Jungkook nearly had a heart attack at the loud thump and jolted back, clutching his chest. 
“Holy shit, that scared me,” he said, which earned a small chuckle from you despite the tears. “Hey… come on out. Please. I’m not judging you.”
“No. I’m humiliated. You heard me yesterday and now caught me today. I can’t face you ever again. It’s over!”
He placed a hand on your door, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “I didn’t even know we started, so how could we be over? You’re cute.”
That made you snap your head up. You quickly wiped away your tears and rose from the floor. “This isn’t fair… I’ve been embarrassed twice now.”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“You heard me masturbating yesterday!” you exclaimed, frustrated at his obliviousness. “You woke up and told me I had pretty lips or whatever and suggested we do something about it together!”
“I mean, you do have pretty lips. Yup. That sounds like me, yeah,” he said, nodding to himself. “But I really don’t remember. Come on out. I wanna see you.”
“No.”
“Would it help if I shared something embarrassing about me?”
You narrowed your eyes at the door, considering his offer. “... Go on…”
He sighed, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Well… you know how I’ve been doing your laundry for you?” 
“Yeah…”
It was your most hated chore. Putting the clothes into the washer and dryer wasn’t your issue, but folding them was so tedious. So you and him made a deal. You were in charge of dishes and he would do the laundry. However, the one thing you refused to let Jungkook wash for you were your bras and panties. Those you handled yourself.
“You… left a pair of panties in my basket once by mistake.”
“I did?”
“Yeah. I washed them for you but um… before that, I might’ve… sort’ve… jerked off with them.”
Your doorknob jostled for a second as you unlocked it. Jungkook waited as the door swung open and was greeted by a displeased you, hands on your hips and all.  
“What? They were really pretty…” he added. “They were pink and had lace—”
“You… PERVERT!” you shouted, hitting his chest repeatedly. Of course, you were aware your feeble punches did nothing to his insanely toned pecs. Jungkook stared at you fondly, catching the hint of a smile that threatened to spill from your lips. 
“Oh, I’m a pervert? Says the girl who has an 8-inch dildo,” he countered, snatching both your wrists. 
“At least I’m able to take 8-inches!” you retorted, laughing at the situation. He joined in your laughter and then said,
“Good! That means you’ll be able to handle me!”
Your brain fizzled out at this point as the laughter subsided. “... What?”
Jungkook’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he gulped. “... You heard me. Go ahead, take off my towel again. See for yourself.”
He guided your hands downward to the soft fabric, which was already on the verge of unraveling itself with his prior movements. You stared at his pelvic lines, excitement bubbling beneath the surface while you tried your best to maintain a calm expression. 
“... Pervert,” you mumbled. Jungkook chuckled, taking one of your hands and placing it directly on his boner. 
“Maybe. But only you can make me feel this way.”
You bit your lip, feeling the heat radiating from beneath the fabric and your curiosity peaked. Tucking a finger into the towel, you pulled it down and let it fall to the ground. 
A loud squeal came from your lips as you covered your mouth. “Holy shit!”
Jungkook covered himself after seeing your reaction with both hands, embarrassment crawling up his spine. “Sorry, I’ll put it away.”
“No, no, no!” you said, putting your hands out in a stop motion. “Sorry, I just… you… you weren’t kidding.”
“Does it scare you?” His tone was sincere, his eyes genuinely showing concern. “Because… I don’t want to hurt you. And I know it can hurt. That’s why I was so curious about the dildo. Will it fit? Will I fit…?”
You couldn’t help but laugh at how he phrased it, but quickly stopped when you noticed the fear in his eyes. Your thoughts wandered to if he had slept with someone prior and if it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Truth be told, you’ve never been with anyone as big as him so it’s all new for you.
“Well… if I’m prepared well enough, I can take it. The dildo fits but sometimes not all of it goes in. Um… man, this is embarrassing to talk about, ahhh. I feel like I keep making a fool of myself in front of you.”
Jungkook’s gaze softened at your vulnerability, taking your hand and placing it on his chest. His heart was beating just as rapidly as yours if not more. Then he put his other hand on the small of your back, pulling you close. 
“That makes two of us. But you make me crazy.”
He was so close that your senses were intoxicated with the fresh scent of eucalyptus and cotton wafting off him. His eyes shifted to your lips for a split second before meeting your gaze once more. 
“I really want to kiss these pretty lips of yours… If you’ll let me,” he said, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb and whispering the last part.
You begged him to kiss you already, so he leaned in and finally pressed his warm lips against yours as you closed your eyes. It started off as a gentle smooch, like a little tease to test the waters. When he pulled back, you leaned forward and chased his lips urgently. You felt him smiling into the kiss as he moved in tandem with you, deepening the kiss while switching positions to press you against a wall. One of his hands pinned your wrists above your head while his free hand slithered down the side of your body until it rested on your hip, giving you a firm squeeze.
“Jung—mmph—Jungkook…” you moaned. He used that chance to ease his tongue into your mouth and the kiss went from passionate to messy. When you moved your wrists in the slightest, he asserted dominance and pinned them back down into place. 
“You think I’m going to let you go so easily now that I have you?” he asked, the hunger in his voice evident. He carefully tugged your bottom lip in between his teeth and pulled it back in a seductive motion, which turned you on even more. 
Once he broke the kiss, the only thing that remained was a string of saliva that broke seconds later.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he said in between pants.
“Since you’ve jerked off to my panties?” you teased while catching your breath.
He rolled his eyes. “Like you’ve never rubbed one out to me before.”
You scrunched up your nose at his response, unable to counteract his statement right away. “Hey… I wouldn’t have had to rub one out if you warmed me up in this cold weather.”
He smirked. “All you had to do was ask, you know.”
Releasing your hands, Jungkook went into your room and grabbed the dildo off the floor. He left you for a short moment and you waited there, confused, until you heard the sound of running water. He came back a minute later and then grabbed your hand, leading you to his bedroom.
“Had to wash it. Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up properly for the real thing.”
He guided you to his bed and helped you remove your jacket, blouse, and leggings. His grin was extra toothy because the set you were wearing was the exact set he jerked off too before. 
“What?” you asked, amused.
“N-Nothing.”
When your back was turned for a second, he mouthed the words ‘Oh my god’ and pressed his hands together as if thanking the universe for this very moment.
Now left in your bra and panties, you laid on his bed and he climbed on top of you, his lips latching onto the side of your neck. You mewled at the sizzling contact, pulling him close by his soft locks so that his hot skin was pressed against yours. He trailed his searing kisses down to your collarbone and then settled between the valley of your breasts. 
“The bra is pretty… you’re so pretty,” he said, full of admiration. He pulled one of the cups down to gain access to your breasts, capturing your perky nipple between his lips. He sucked tenderly, swirling his tongue around before tugging on it hard enough to elicit a moan. His other hand was greedy, slithering into your already soaked panties. His middle finger dipped in between your folds and he rubbed in circular motions to coax some more slick out of you. 
As you arched your back and moaned his name, he dipped one finger into you and began to pump it slowly. He added another one when you begged for it, sounding so desperate that he had to oblige. 
“Please fuck me already. I can’t take it,” you breathed. Jungkook only curled his fingers deeper inside, grazing your sweet spot while shaking his head. 
“Patience, beautiful. I need to make sure your sweet pussy can take it, remember? Gotta prep you well.”
“But I can take it, I can, oh god please.” 
“If you’re a good girl for me. Can you take another finger?”
You nodded eagerly, so he added a third finger and you squeezed your eyes shut from the delicious burn. 
“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, observing your expressions carefully. You clutched onto the pillow and panted heavily. 
“Y-Yeah, I—god—your fingers feel good…”
He began to finger you with all three digits, the tightness of your walls bringing some resistance to his actions. But with a few more neck kisses to relax you, it became easier and you became more undone. 
“You’re doing so well,” he whispered into your ear, his heavy breath tickling it. He finally removed his fingers and grabbed the dildo at the end of the bed, bringing up to your lips. 
“Show me what those pretty lips of yours can do.”
You stuck out your tongue and licked a long stripe on the toy in a tantalizing slow motion, causing Jungkook to grunt. That damn smile of yours was going to kill him. You were the perfect minx—sweet and naughty. He didn’t have to tell you to suck it because you already were. 
“Such a good girl. You’re going to handle my cock so well.”
He removed the dildo out of your mouth and reached into his nightstand to pull out a bottle of lube. You stared at it like it was foreign to you and Jungkook was quick to notice.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I can take it. I know it.”
He chuckled, admiring your determination. “Still, I want to take my time.  Besides… it’s not every day I get to fuck someone so beautiful.”
He popped open the cap and squeezed a decent amount of lube onto the toy. Then he got back in between your legs and slowly began to insert it into you. You squirmed from the slippery, cold contact but Jungkook captured your lips into a deep kiss, igniting your body with fervor. 
He thrusted the dildo as deep as he could, stopping when there was resistance from your panties. Which you were more than thankful for because you already felt full. But then he began to pump it in and out of you at a steady pace, only accelerating when your moans became more constant. 
“Shit, shit,that feels so—“ Your words were swallowed by his lips and that stirred something within you, allowing Jungkook to easily glide the toy back and forth. He soon increased his speed, the obscene sounds your pussy was making the only thing that could be heard in the room. 
You broke away from the kiss and began tearing up from the intensity. 
“J-Jungkook, I think—“
You couldn’t, actually. Your orgasm crept up on you and made your entire body convulse. You shut your eyes to only see white, your ears were ringing, and your pussy surrendered to the pleasure. 
Jungkook removed the toy out of you gently and then kissed your sweaty forehead, giving you a bunny-tooth smile as you calmed down from your high. 
“Did you cum?”
You smacked his arm playfully. “Did I cum… pfft. No, actually. I’m waiting for a real man to make me cum. With a fat cock.”
“Well not to toot my own horn but…” He grinded his swollen cock against your thigh. “I think I meet the requirements.”
Now that things slowed down, this was the first time you really got to look at his cock properly. He wasn’t kidding about needing to prep you. It was as big as your dildo but much more girthier. It was a mouth-watering sight. 
Flipping the switch, you got on top of Jungkook this time. His eyes widened in surprise but then eased into a smile. You leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. 
“Let me take care of you now.”
“But I want to fuck you so bad.”
“You can wait, darling. My pussy is yours.”
His dick twitched at that. You giggled as you got in between his thighs, stroking his member a few times to hear those cute, breathy moans of his. 
Will it fit…? God, I hope so.
“Are you afraid you can’t take it?” Jungkook asked with concern. Shit. Did you say that out loud???
“I can. I will.”
“We don’t have to if you don’t—“
“Jungkook,” you said, squeezing his dick tightly, almost like a warning. “I can take it like a good girl. And if not, I’ll tell you. Okay?”
He closed his eyes and nodded as you began to suck him off. There was no way you could take all of him in your mouth but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try. You went as far as you could and stopped when your gag reflex kicked in. Using your hand to stroke the area you couldn’t reach, you swirled your tongue and bobbed your head up and down. 
Jungkook’s abs clenched and unclenched at the action and he rested on his elbows to watch you. The way your bra cupped your breasts at this angle was enticing, your pretty lips working so hard to please him, and the view of your ass in those panties could make him cum right then and there. 
“Fuck, you’re so good at this—don’t stop.”
You smiled at the praise and continued, loving how he took a sharp inhale of breath when you cupped his balls. He put his hand on your head and pushed you down gently, not wanting to overdo it with his size. You controlled the pace, but he just wanted to touch you and admire you. 
“You’re too good to me…” 
You released his dick with a satisfying pop sound, kissing the tip and smiling. “Teach me what you like.”
“I love everything you do,” he said, grunting when you began stroking him again from the base to the tip. “Your hands are so much softer than mine.”
You stopped momentarily to spit on your hand before resuming your lewd actions and he threw his head back. 
“Fuck [Y/N]. That’s so hot.”
“Yeah? Have I been a good girl? Are you going to reward me?” He snatched your wrist, his eyes darkened and full of lust. 
“Can you handle it?”
You turned around on all fours, shaking your ass side to side to tempt him. “Take me, baby. Raw.”
His OJO face returned from your bold suggestion and you flashed him a wink. 
“I’m on the pill. Promise,” you informed. 
A burst of energy surged within him as he grabbed the bottle of lube and hurriedly squeezed some onto his cock. You giggled when he squirted a bit too much, haphazardly trying to divide it between two hands and spreading it evenly. But things turned serious when he grabbed your hips, yanking you closer to him.
He pulled your panties to the side and ate you out from behind first, loving how delicious your backside looked with them on. You moaned in delight and he placed a hand on your upper back, forcing your face down into the mattress. His tongue dipped into your folds and he flicked it on your clit a few times, loving the whiny sounds you were making. Then he pressed his entire mouth onto your pussy and sucked hard. 
You were overwhelmed with pleasure and were on the verge of cumming when he removed his mouth and replaced it with something else.
“Are you ready?” He teased his tip at your leaking entrance and you shuddered. 
“Yes, please fuck me.”
“Breathe baby. Relax as much as you can.”
You obeyed, feeling him push himself into you smoothly, knowing he prepped you more than enough. At least, that’s what you thought until he got in halfway. From there on, it felt like he was invading your walls and stretching you to new limits. 
There was a mild discomfort and Jungkook kissed your back lovingly to relax your tense muscles. You sighed and allowed him to bottom out, feeling the wind knock out of you when he did. 
“God!” you shouted, fisting his bedsheets. 
“F-Fuck… you feel amazing I—can I move? Does it hurt?”
“It doesn’t hurt… I just feel really full.”
“Okay,” he said in a restrained voice. “I’ll go slow.”
He gripped your hips tightly, like he needed something else to focus on or else he’d lose control and fuck the living daylights out of you. He eased himself out of you but only half way, wanting to savor your warmth a bit longer. Then he pushed himself back into you, making sure to go as slow as possible.
“Your ass looks amazing in these. You should wear them again.”
Your heart fluttered at the thought of doing this with him again. “Maybe if you spank me.”
He stilled his hips. “You really want me to?”
You began rocking your ass back and forth on his cock. “Yeah. I’m not that fragile… I can take it rough when I want to.” You swore you felt his cock twitch at this. “Hmm, looks like that excited you. You wanna fuck me rough, Jeon?”
He delivered a spank on your cheek, the sensation sending waves of pain and pleasure through your body. Your pussy tightened from this and it made Jungkook hiss. He spanked the other cheek and then both cheeks and you moaned, the slight pain distracting you from the girth of his big cock. 
“You think you’re in a position to be a brat?” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you up so you were on all fours again. Laying on top of your back, he whispered in your ear, “Do you know how badly I want to fucking ruin you?”
He bit the shell of your ear and you let out a content sigh as he slowly thrusted in and out of you. 
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he reminded you. “But god, you feel so good. So tight. So slippery and wet. I just wanna have my way with you.”
You couldn’t wait anymore. “Please do. Make my pussy remember the shape of your cock. It’s yours to wreck.”
Jungkook got off your back and grabbed a nice fistful of your hair into a makeshift ponytail, forcing your head up as he thrusted into you to the hilt. That feeling of being full hit you full force and you submitted, letting him rock his hips back and forth to the pace he deemed fit. He undid your bra with his free hand, letting the undergarment fall onto the bed as he cupped one breast.
Your moans came out unashamed and full of whiny desperation. The intensity was becoming too much, but it felt too good to stop. There was no more discomfort, only lust and the desire to be fucked so hard that it had your eyes rolling. And Jungkook was more than willing to deliver.
He then grabbed a nearby pillow and placed it under your stomach, pushing your back down until you laid flat. 
“I’m not sure, but I read this makes things feel better on Reddit,” he explained quickly as he helped remove your panties. “But let me know if you want me to stop.”
You’re smitten by the fact he cared this much about you but also trying hard not to laugh at how he admitted to going to Reddit for sex advice. He was too precious.
“I will.”
With your ass propped up higher thanks to the elevation of the pillow, Jungkook eased into you once more and you bit into your pillow. He started to slam his hips into you, gripping onto the headboard to steady himself. 
“Fuck!” you said through gritted teeth. 
“Am I going too fast?” he breathed, slowing down his thrusts.
“No, it’s okay. I want it. I want you.”
Your words unleashed his primal urges to finally give it to you. He shoved his cock deep inside you, each thrust making your ass jiggle, the sight so unbelievably sexy that he had to spank you again.
“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me harder!” you shouted. Jungkook laid on top of you, wrapping his bicep around your neck and planted a kiss on your cheek as he fucked you harder. You begged him to choke you and he obliged, squeezing your neck just enough to make you slightly dizzy. 
It was euphoric having that slight danger while being used for his pleasure. Your pussy tightened so much that Jungkook felt he was going to cum. 
He slowed the roll of his hips and then pulled out, quickly flipping you onto your back. Thanks to the pillow from earlier, your hips were propped up at the perfect height. 
“Spread your legs for me. Wider. Hold them open.”
You were so drunk on lust that you did everything he asked. He held onto your thighs and inserted his cock into you again, the new angle making your moans come out strangulated. He was so huge, you swore his tip was brushing against your cervix. Picking up the pace gradually, you took the abuse of his fat cock and screamed at how good it felt. 
“I can’t get enough of you,” Jungkook said through pants, wrapping a hand around the column of your neck. “I’m gonna cum.”
His hips began to stutter and you felt your pussy growing sore from the stretch. Anymore and you’d be in tears. You wanted to cum too, so you snuck your hand down to your clit and rubbed in circular motions. Jungkook used the last remaining bits of strength to fuck you for a few more minutes, which was more than enough for you to reach your climax. 
Cumming a second time was more painful than the first time due to the over sensitivity. But somehow it was more enjoyable because you had never felt something so intense. Jungkook kept coaxing you with sweet words, promising he was almost finished. 
He rutted into you for the last few seconds, counting 3, 2, 1 before spilling his seed inside you. His body laid on top of yours, the two of you sticky and sweaty but it was comforting just being in his embrace. 
“Jungkook?” 
“Yeah?”
“Get off. We gotta pee.”
He laughed at your serious tone. “I think I need another shower. Care to join me?”
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Your roommate literally just fucked your brains out 5 minutes ago. Why were you feeling self-conscious in the shower with him? It didn’t make sense!
With the hot water on, you took a deep breath before feeling a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. 
“Questions, comments, concerns?”
Oh my god, you had to marry this man. “Um… I think I’ll be sore for the next few days.”
“I’m sorry.
“Don’t be. I enjoyed it a lot.”
He turned you around, so that you were facing him. “Enough to do it again?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Tonight?”
“W-Well… I mean—“
Look at him fumbling over his words. Adorable. “You’re such a pervert.”
“I can’t help it. You turn me on.”
You covered your chest, feeling shy. “Is that all I’m good for…?”
He immediately understood what you meant. “Of course not. Look at me,” he said while tilting your chin up. “Don’t you know how I feel about you?”
Your lips curled into a smile. “Well I learned today that you jerked off to my panties and you count down before you cum.”
You couldn’t help but explode into laughter at his OJO face when he heard you say that. 
“Hey! I do it to let you know when it’s coming!”
“Yes sir,” you teased with a salute. “I appreciate your punctuality, sir!”
“Oh my god, you’re so cheeky.” He hugged you again and booped his nose into yours. “I like you. You know, when a boy likes a girl and they go out on a date and then—oh shit, I did things backwards.”
You giggled. “I think I prefer it this way. I like you too. I’ve… liked you for a long time.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because! I didn’t want to make things awkward. But I guess things ended up being awkward anyway…”
“Because you were masturbating to me?” 
He had such a proud smile on his face. 
“Whatever! Panty thief!”
“You left them there.”
“You should’ve told me!”
“I did!”
“After you had your fun! You are so—”
He gave you a surprise peck on the cheek to distract you. 
“Awesome?” He smooched you again. And again. You couldn’t help but giggle. 
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“Mmhmm. So… do you want to stay in my room tonight?”
“As long as you warm me up.”
“Oh, for sure. I’m great at that.”
“Because of experience or Reddit?”
There was his OJO face again. “Hey~!”
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I truly hope you enjoyed the fic! Thank you for giving my writing a chance. :) Also I have an AO3 if you're more comfortable commenting there. Thanks!
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months
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do you believe me now? | 7
in which spencer reid and inexperienced!fem reader sleep together for the first time
series masterlist
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: loss of virginity, oral f/m receiving, so much praise, pain during sex, unprotected sex, cr**mp**, bit of overstim, soft dom spence, if u don't like that freak shit (love and intimacy) this is not for u, spencer is a nerd, they're both nerds actually and that factors in heavily, you may get more from this part by FIRST reading how they met in this bonus chapter a/n: thank you all for being patient, ilysm, this was the most laborious thing i've ever done for no reason and also this part changed so many times and is not what i expected it to be so pls go in with tempered expectations and keep in mind that this story is more about the characters and their specific relationship dynamic than just being porn. i truly have no idea how you guys will react to this but i sincerely hope you love it and them like i do<3 also it's twice as long as the other parts so feedback would be very very appreciated! again i love u all and enjoy the penultimate part!
Spencer’s lips are on yours, and you weren’t expecting it—hell, you weren’t expecting him to be in your apartment. After all, he’d wished you goodnight and walked out only a moment ago.
“Spencer—wh—” 
But he’s insistent with his lips, kissing you bruisingly over and over like there’s nectar on your tongue and he’s parched for you. Still, he has enough decency to not completely ignore you, exhaling a quick excuse over your flushed lips. 
“I missed you.”
This time, though, you dodge his hungry kiss. Part of you thinks, as he watches you, eyes alight and breathing heavily, that he sort of likes your playing hard to get. It’s not something you do very often, admittedly. 
“We’ve been apart for like, maybe a minute.”
“I didn’t even make it to the parking lot.”
Your face heats.  
“Well you can’t just—you can’t just walk in like that! And I thought you said we weren’t supposed to mix fighting with pleasure.”
“Then start locking your door. And I thought you said we weren’t fighting.”
You roll your eyes in response, though your heart is still pittering in your chest. 
At least his hands move to your arms, stroking up and down relatively chastely—although he has this way of making everything seem intimate. Especially when paired with those amber eyes of his—glowing like a candlelight beacon in the window guiding you home. He speaks in low, appeasing tones and darts his tongue over his lips. 
“I originally said it’s a bad idea for couples to sleep together after an argument. But you know—makeup sex is ubiquitous across culture and time because it works. Anger and arousal trigger a lot of the same hormones, specifically norepinephrine which is involved in feelings of longing and—”
“Spencer.”
“You know what else?” He mutters in a way that feels dangerous. “It tends to feel better than regular sex.”
That earns a shaky exhale from you. Whether from irritation or arousal is anyone’s guess—probably a combination of both. 
“So you came back to fuck me?”
It’s probably evident to Spencer from your choice of language that this already isn’t going exactly as he’d planned. He doesn’t answer right away—just regards you, gaze bouncing between your two eyes like he’s trying to calculate your level of anger. 
“Is that what we’re calling it now?”
You push him away and move to walk down the hall. 
“Maybe your window of opportunity has passed.”
A warm hand wraps around your wrist in the dark of the hallway and he pulls you back until you’re falling against something tall and warm and lean. The smell of polished amber and sandalwood overwhelms your senses. 
“What’s wrong, angel? What happened in the minute I was gone to change your mind?” His voice is scratchy like a favorite record. It’s the voice he could hold you captive with. The one you have a very difficult time saying no to. 
“I don’t know,” you mutter, unintentionally leaning back against him. “What happened to change yours?”
His response comes pressed against your ear, half-lost in your hair. 
“You’re upset that I changed my mind. I thought you wanted this, honey.”
“I do,” you admit, letting your head fall back against his shoulder and bringing his arm to wrap around you. “And if you hadn’t walked out earlier I would’ve done it. But… I’m tired of us doing everything on your timeline. You just… you expect me to be amenable to what you want, constantly.” His nose and lips press into your shoulder. 
“What do you mean?”
“Like… I’ve been begging you to sleep with me for I don’t even know how long. And you keep changing your mind, and I feel like you’re being really confusing about it. Obviously you don’t have to sleep with me, you never did, but I just feel kind of… jerked around. And you did it again tonight.”
A beat of silence. 
“I understand your frustration,” he appeases, securing both his arms around you. You cling weakly to his wrist, to his warmth, like he’s a tether in a storm. “Would you prefer to wait until you initiate it?”
“No. Yes! I don’t know,” you huff, disentangling yourself from his arms and continuing toward your bedroom. “Now I’m annoyed at you again.”
He follows you right through the door. 
“Just tell me what to do! I don’t want to be annoying.”
“I can’t. I’m being unreasonable.” You flick on your adjoining bathroom light and examine yourself in the mirror. Yeesh. The eye makeup situation is abysmal after all the crying that has taken place over the course of the evening. 
“So choose to be reasonable and tell me what you want from me. I’ll give it to you.”
You frown at your reflection, pushing your hair back and rubbing at some excess mascara. 
“No, you’re not understanding me. I’m not choosing to be unreasonable. My thought process regarding the situation is inherently unreasonable and there’s nothing I can do about it because it’s just the way I feel.”
“The feeling being that I’ve been too domineering over how our sexual relationship has unfolded?”
Spencer watches you in the bathroom mirror, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed as you tip some makeup remover onto a reusable cotton pad. You try not to check him out as you nod, but it’s impossible—with his sleeves rolled up to show defined forearms cradled in capable hands, and his hair all messy. 
When he pushes off the wall you freeze, unsure of his next move—until he’s gently spinning you around and taking the bottle and cloth from your hands. 
“Maybe it would help,” he begins, soft as he focuses on the new task, carefully bringing the round to your right eye so he can remove the bleeding mascara. You allow your eyes to flutter shut. “If I remind you why I’ve been so hesitant.”
“Because you hate giving me joy.”
He laughs, nothing more than one huff from his nose. 
“You’re spoiled and we both know it.”
Point taken, as he gently wipes your makeup away for you. Your silence is his cue to continue. 
“Everything I said about worrying that you would regret choosing me is true. It was especially true when I thought you felt lukewarm toward me. And all of that confusing stuff I said in the phone is true too—having sex for the first time is incredibly intimate and weird and sometimes scary. If you’re not 100% sure about your partner, or if you think your feelings are unrequited, it’s hard to be completely comfortable in such a vulnerable situation and your likelihood of getting hurt or having regrets skyrockets. I know that from experience. I wanted better for you than what I got. Still, I know it was wrong to project my feelings about the significance of sex onto you. In that regard, you’re right. I was being domineering, and I guess… I guess to an extent I’m still deflecting. I shouldn’t be trying to pretend like it’s about you when in reality I mostly just didn’t want to get hurt again. I didn’t want to go through that again, and that’s okay, but I shouldn’t have made you feel like it was something you could have changed.”
You try to process that. 
“Go through what?” You whisper hoarsely. Something about having him at such close range while he takes such care with you feels whisper-y. 
“Sleeping with someone who didn’t love me back.”
Your reply is small. 
“Oh. Right.”
How could anyone not love him back?
Spencer’s reply is simple and kind, without a hint of, obviously you dumb bitch—which is pretty much what you’re thinking to yourself. 
“Does that make sense, lovely? Do you understand why I wanted to wait?”
He lets you ponder for a while in comfortable-enough silence as he finishes removing your eye makeup with a characteristically gentle hand. When you open your eyes, he looks genuinely content, screwing the lid back on the bottle as if he’s got an eternity to wait for your answer. 
“Yeah. That part makes sense. But why did you seem so… I don’t know, like, wishy-washy about it?”
Spencer’s eyes dart up to meet yours, brows slightly raised. Then a small laugh bubbles up from somewhere inside him. 
“Because I’m obsessed with you. I thought about you like that constantly. I still do.”
Your breath catches at the casual admission. 
“Oh.”
Spencer hums, setting the bottle down before tenderly thumbing away some excess mascara that he must have missed from under your eye. 
“You didn’t think it was easy for me, did you?”
“Well… kind of,” you admit, tracking his eyes until they meet yours. 
“Not sleeping with you has been among the hardest things I’ve ever done. Especially when you started begging me. That first time, when I picked you up from Penelope’s and you asked me why we hadn’t had sex yet…”
He trails off, still rubbing at your cheek as he loses himself in thought. 
Eventually, you grow impatient, prompting, “what?”
“It’s not a nice thought.”
“Well, you have to tell me now,” you insist. 
He half smiles, thumb straying to your lips. 
“It was just… you had no idea what you were talking about, and you were ready to throw a tantrum in my living room until I gave you what you thought you wanted. Part of me was imagining bending you over the couch right then, since you thought you were so ready.”
It feels like someone has snipped the pulley that keeps your stomach in place. 
“Spencer,” you splutter, convinced your cheek is tangibly heating under his touch as your head reels at the revelation that he could have such a deeply dirty and mildly sinister mind. 
“I told you it wasn’t nice.”
You swallow. 
“Is that… is that still what you want?”
His brows flicker again and he tucks hair behind your ear. 
“To bend you over my couch? No.”
Your face warms even more and you turn to leave the bathroom, sick of his teasing. 
“Okay, goodni—”
“Hold on.” Spencer catches you by your waist and pulls you back into him for the second time tonight. A dangerous smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. “I know what you meant. And no, I don’t want to bend you over my couch.” He laughs, slipping a hand under your shirt to rub your back. “You know what I want. I’m more interested in learning what you want.”
“I want…” Your eyes dance between his, and your heart flutters against the confines of your chest as you realize what you’ve wanted for so long is finally yours for the taking. “I want to stop talking about it.”
His expression neutralizes and you know it’s probably intentional to stop whatever feelings you assume him to be having color your decision. 
“Oh?”
“I just think we’ve talked about it enough.”
Before he can say another word, or ask you another question, you kiss him with such passion there’s no way he can doubt how much you want this. 
Only a moment passes before he allows himself to lean into it, cupping your face between reverent hands and taking control of the pace of the kiss, slowing it down until you can hardly breathe. Your little noise of want has him quickening the process, pressing against you until you’re walking backward out of the bathroom. It’s like the first crack in a dam. After that, everything becomes inevitable. 
Your knees hit the back of the bed and you sit down hard on the mattress, smiling up at him. You skim the front of his thighs with your palms as he smooths your hair.
Spencer groans, leaning down and kissing you til you’re on your back. 
“Don’t make that face.”
An affronted huff from you breaks the kiss up and he pulls back to study your expression. 
“What do you mean don’t make that face? I was just smiling at you.”
“I know you were. And you have such a pretty smile it makes me feel guilty about… defiling you.”
Your brows flicker up and your mouth drops open with an affronted scoff.
“Watch yourself. I’ll defile you.”
“You already have,” he admits with a half-laugh as he kisses you again. “My mind was never this dirty before we met.”
“Hm. Tell me you like my smile.”
He pauses and then chuckles dryly against your mouth. 
“I love your smile. You’re gorgeous. Any more demands?”
Pleased, you shake your head and pull him closer, wrapping your legs around his waist. 
“Not currently.”
“Really?” he murmurs, trailing kisses over your cheek and down your jaw, “I’d do just about anything you asked me right now. You don’t want to take advantage of that?”
The sensation of his lips just below your ear threatens all rational thought in your brain, but you manage a reply with only a slight delay and a hint of a waver coloring your tone. 
“I shouldn’t have to demand things. You should just know to do them.”
His kisses drag lower, warm and unhurried and you’re trying not to let your hyper-sensitivity from going a week completely untouched show—but you doubt he misses the way your breath catches, or the barely audible squeaks, or the arch of your back or the tightening grip on his shirt. 
“Well, for future reference—” he nips at a sensitive spot and you gasp quietly, even as you tilt your head to offer him more access. More room to bite, if he so chooses. “—I happen to enjoy it when you make demands of me. Especially when those demands entail letting me call you pretty.”
“I’ve never not let you call me pretty before,” you huff. It’s a touchy subject, and Spencer can probably sense your hackles rising, but he has you right where he wants you and so he pushes anyway. 
“No. But you never believe me. We’ve had this conversation. You always act like I’m walking you to the gallows when I compliment you.” 
It’s hard to make a defense when he’s leaning his weight onto one arm so he can unbutton your jeans, when he’s looking down at you with sparkling onyx and scorched-earth eyes like you’re something to be consumed. But not violently, no—ardently. Like fruit heavy on the vine. Like you’re a religious rite to the devout and deluded. A sacrament.
But it’s not a blind passion. Spencer knows you; every inch of you and every loose thread on your soul begging to be pulled. He knows you and he still wants you like this. To be perfectly honest, you’d never thought you’d feel comfortable handing yourself over to someone like this—vulnerable and all your layers of armor shed. Never in your life would you have thought you could trust a person so implicitly that you’d hand them a knife and show them exactly where to press, that you’d say, I know once you open me and you see me you’ll not want to change a thing.
You adore him. Cosmically. Enormously. In every dimension. He’s lodged so deep in your heart you have no choice but to love him eternally. 
It’s deep in the midst of all these very profound revelations that you realize Spencer has stalled with your zipper undone. His hand has strayed to your hip, to sweetly push your shirt up and trace love letters into warmed and downy skin with his thumb. 
“I just wish you could see yourself how I see you,” he says softly, the weight of the truth a strain on his vocal cords. 
Sometimes, he is so kind it’s like a punch to your stomach. You’ve never been quite as kind as him. And nobody’s ever been as kind to you as he is. You’ve done nothing to deserve his kindness, but you know he needs a place for it, and you’re here with open arms. 
He studies you a moment longer, swallowing as his eyes trail over your face and lower. You want to reach out and brush strands of caramel hair out of his face, but he seems to be thinking so hard you’re hesitant to distract him. 
“I’ve never told you this, because I know you’d just shoot it down, but… you are genuinely the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met in my life.”
Something twinges in the depths of your stomach—the darker shades who live there and exist solely to whisper not enough not enough not enough to you every minute of every day. 
But they’re simply not a match for the softness you find when you do reach out for his hair, or the way he looks at you. Spencer loosely wraps his fingers around your wrist—not a cuff, but an affectionate hold. 
“Do you believe me?”
There’s so much earnest hope in his voice it almost jars you. He so badly wants you to understand how feels about you—he’s been trying to tell you for months and all you know how to do is refute his praise and insist on your worthlessness. 
Ever since Spencer, you don’t see the faces on magazine covers or in superhero movies, no matter how mathematically flawless they are. Nobody gets close to being as beautiful as he is in your eyes. He’s in an entirely different echelon, and despite how you feel about yourself, you have to accept that he might feel the same about you. 
“I do,” you say, equally soft, and 100% honest. You believe that he believes it, and that’s enough. It’s all that matters. 
The shallow knit of his brow loosens. His lips ease into a suggestion of a smile. But it’s most visible in his eyes—the way smoldering coals reignite, melting the amber glass of his irises until they’re molten. 
The way he kisses you then, you’d think you’d lassoed the moon and pulled it down from the sky for him. But apparently all it takes to make him incandescently, contagiously happy, is to accept a compliment.
There’s a renewed sense of urgency on his breath as he kisses you deeply and quick enough your heart is racing. It only goes faster when he remembers his previous task and begins tugging your jeans down, but he doesn’t even bother to pull them past your knees before his hand is creeping up your thigh. Goosebumps race each other across your body as you try to remember what it feels like—what he feels like. But you can’t, even as his thumb fans over your inner thigh and pushes it open, gently encouraging you to give him more access to you. 
“You’re not wasting any time,” you breathe against him while he traces the edge of your underwear.
“Do you want me to slow down?”
Judging by the way the tips of his fingers only barely shy away from the fabric, he really wants the answer to be no. But you know in his searching gaze that he’d never push you. 
“No, it’s fine. As long as we… don’t go this fast the whole time.”
“We won’t.” The hasty words are of lower priority than the next kiss he plants to your swollen lips. “We won’t. I just missed you so much.”
“Yeah?” You giggle airily as he drags his fingers over your clit through the material, trying to ignore the way it makes your head spin. 
“Yes. Yeah.”
You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him like this, so… desperate for you, as he drops his lips to your neck and presses barely-there kisses everywhere he knows you’re sensitive. Just the feeling of his breath against your skin has you shivering. His hand between your legs only brushes your most nerve-dense spot, but a few touches in and you’re already wound up, like if Spencer doesn’t give you more soon you’ll burst. And not in the good way. 
When he finally commits to actually kissing your neck, you squeak, warmth emanating from that spot just below your jaw all the way to your toes. The frantic energy of earlier is slowly melting away, and he loses focus with his hand, as it begins straying wider, stroking your hip, your inner thigh, your stomach. It’s like your nerve endings are on overdrive, delivering twice as much feedback to your brain as they normally would. Each touch feels like he’s conducting electricity over your body, like you’re a plasma ball. He’d probably like that analogy—you, a core of alternating voltage, and him, the conductor, tracing a path and giving all those electrons an easy release. If you weren’t so distracted, you’d tell Spencer you found a way to work Nikola Tesla into your mutual sex life, and he’d probably propose on the spot. 
But that electricity is building fast—even more so when he drags his lips down just above your collarbone. Your breath hitches, simultaneously trying to crane your neck to give him more room, and curl into him so as to escape the stimulation. Finally he pulls away, and losing the softness of his mouth while the air feels so cold against the places he’d kissed almost hurts. 
“You’re a mess,” he chuckles affectionately, raising his hand to brush hair away from your face before stroking the heated high point of your cheek. “What am I going to do with you?”
It’s teasing, but so low and gentle and honeyed it swirls your stomach. 
“Whatever you want,” you admit quietly. It’s a shy confession more than it is a salacious flirtation because he already has you. And you want nothing more than for him to act on that in any way he so pleases. Whatever he does, it will be careful, and kind, and because he loves you. You know that no matter how he takes you apart—he’ll put you back together again. 
“I don’t know if I can. You’re all jumpy.”
God, he has the prettiest smile—even when it’s twisted with sarcasm and a thin veneer of guilt, like he knows he shouldn’t be teasing and just can’t help himself. 
“I’m not,” you defend, face heating further. “I’m not nervous. I don’t know what it is.”
That sticky sweet tone is back, pooling in his eyes and dripping all over you like nectar as he languidly looks you over. 
“I didn’t say you were nervous. Just a little bit jumpy.”
It’s not accusatory—he’s simply stating a fact. Easy, gentle, designed to soothe. 
You shrug helplessly and chew on your lip, unsure of how he wants you to respond. It’s definitely true that excited as you are, you’re slightly on edge. You feel taut as a string on a guitar, tense and waiting to be yanked at any second. 
His expression is serene, and his thoughts inscrutable as he continues lavishing you with his eyes, down to where he’s lying over you and back up. His lips part, but he doesn’t speak for a moment as he formulates his words. 
“Can we try something? There’s this tantric exercise that might help you relax.”
Your brows draw earnestly and you nod up at him, not requiring any convincing even though you have no idea what he’s talking about. 
Spencer directs you to sit up, and you do—kicking your jeans all the way off so you can sit criss-cross with your hands braced on your ankles. 
He’s next to you on the bed, at a slight angle, one of your knees in his lap. You blink at him. 
“Now what?”
“Now you give me one of your hands,” he says, tone tinted with a hint of an amused smile, as if your impatience is funny to him. Of course it probably is. 
Frowning only a little, you unlock your left arm and hold it out for him, watching curiously as he takes your one hand between his and flips it palm-up. 
“Did you know,” Spencer begins, voice low and confidential, “that the fingertips are the second most sensitive part of the human body?”
“What’s the first?”
“Lips,” he murmurs, eyes fixed on your hand where he’s brushing the tips of your fingers light enough it almost tickles. “They’re both incredibly important for keeping you alive, which is why they’re one and two. But you’ll be particularly sensitive anywhere you’re vulnerable.” His words are trailing off as he brushes his thumb over your palm and to the delicate skin of your wrist. “Like here.”
His knuckles skim up your forearm, to the crook of your elbow. 
“And especially here.”
You’re fascinated as he traces back down the length of your arm and over your inner-wrist, feather light. Then up once more, with the blunted edges of his nails, and your breath catches. You’ve never noticed how sensitive such an innocuous part of your body could be, but it has your stomach flipping—more so when he looses a breathy laugh. “You know, some people are actually able to reach orgasm just by light stimulation to this area.”
Your response is just as airy—you don’t recognize your voice when it comes out like that, hanging in the pitch black between you. 
“Really?” 
An affirmative hum from him, as he lifts your hand and places an intentional kiss over your pulse at the bend of your wrist. Your chest aches and heat is pooling in your stomach as his gently trails them up the delicate skin of your arm. Maybe you should be embarrassed by the reaction you’re having—after all, it’s just your arm. But he treats every part of you like it warrants love and attention and intimacy. Even the parts you typically ignore. Certainly parts you never considered to be sexually or romantically relevant. It’s dizzying. It’s like magic. 
“Arms up,” Spencer finally directs, just as sweetly as he’s doing everything else, and helps you tug your shirt over your head. Every brush of fabric, every seam against your skin registers more than it normally would. Everything is heightened, and despite your state of undress you’re still warm. “Your neck is really sensitive, too. It’s the most commonly acknowledged erogenous zone.”
Erogenous zone. Of course this all comes back to biology. 
“Tilt your head for me, honey.”
Utterly entranced and useless to not abide by him, you do so. Spencer brushes your hair over your shoulder, and if the slip of it down your back weren’t enough, the graze of his fingertips against the nape of your neck has you shivering. 
The warmth of him at your throat feels completely brand new, despite having already had his lips there only minutes before. But now they ghost over your skin with a kind of novelty, and your own lips part in silent pleasure, head lolling to allow him greater access.
“Lie back.”
Without hesitation (but perhaps a bit sluggishly in your stupor) you obey, sliding down until you’re propped up only by pillows once more. Spencer takes his place propped above you once more, thighs slotted with yours as he quickly picks up where he left off. 
The sweet kisses are perfect and feel so much better than you’d ever thought to notice before—but at the same time your core aches and there’s that pressure building again that’s starting to get to you. 
“Spencer,” you try, and it comes out hoarse but you don’t care at all. “More.”
“You want me to leave marks?” 
And the offer is so tempting you’ll wait a few more minutes to ask for what you really need, nodding semi-frantically and ‘mhm’-ing desperately. 
As he gently latches onto a spot that will require concealer later but feels fantastic for now, one of his hands slips down your side, just barely letting his nails skim, and your back actually arches. It’s a shocking amount of stimulation for being nowhere near any sexual hotspots. That tiny caught breath dissolves as his fingers continue down just as lightly over your hip and thigh. Your muscles tense as you chase and run away from the feeling. It’s ridiculous.
There’s no point in trying to keep your eyes open now—they grow heavy and you let them fall shut as he sucks another love bite to your throat. 
“Feels good, doesn’t it? It’s kind of weird.” He says, voicing your thoughts as he eventually decides the mark will be sufficiently dark. 
“Yeah,” you agree, lacking all eloquence as he caresses every sensitive place you didn’t know you had and your hips writhe minutely in a little desperate dance of your own creation. 
“Most people aren’t aware of the potential of the erogenous zones that aren’t actual sex organs. They don’t pay attention to them. You know what else is an interesting function of erotic stimulation to areas that aren’t directly involved in reproduction?”
“Hm,” you hum as his hand skims to your back. You lean into it and he promptly undoes your bra with a single hand—a skill you’re not even sure you have. 
“It releases not quite as much oxytocin as an orgasm but more than sexual pleasure alone. So you’re less tense before sex than you usually would be, and you’re primed to build more trust and feel more connected with your partner during.”
God, he’s a nerd. And it’s so, so hot. 
You roll over on your back again and look up at him through half-lidded eyes. The corner of his mouth flickers as he takes in your expression, before trailing downward, following the path his fingertips make over your skin as they tug the straps over your shoulders. Trying to stop him, to be shy, would be a pointless venture. He’s seen you like this and you want him to see you again. 
A shaky exhale of his own brings a little smile to your face as he pulls your bra away and observes the newly bared skin with a hunger that you can feel. 
“I missed you,” he murmurs, eyes cast pointedly down and thumb brushing over the side of your right breast. 
“You mentioned.”
“I’m not allowed to say it again?” He teases, leaning down to kiss you soft. Your lips curve against his. 
“You can say it as many times as you want.”
Spencer hums, finally thumbing over your breast’s sensitive peak. It sends a chill down your back and seeing as you’re already worked up to the point of near insanity, the pleasure from such a simple touch is much stronger than it would be otherwise. 
“Good. Because I missed you a lot.”
After that, he doesn’t waste much time—only toying with your flesh for another minute as he kisses you before his hand is skimming down your abdomen and dipping below the waistband of your underwear. 
“Please,” you whisper, tilting your hips toward him when he doesn’t move to touch you anymore. 
“Please what?”
“Spencer, don’t.”
He smiles at this, pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth as his hand travels lower. Fingers slip between wet folds and he begins making the lightest of circles over your clit. 
“You’ve probably been waiting long enough, huh? I should be nicer.”
Your answer is a breathy almost-whine as you seek more friction against his hand. 
“Yeah.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, pressing down harder. The sensation sends sparks down to your toes and you attempt to clamp your legs shut around his wrist. “These need to stay open,” Spencer chuckles, “or else I can’t help you.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” The words are a sweet sing-song against your cheek as he kisses you there, before hooking his fingers into the fabric of your underwear and pulling down. You try to help wiggle out of them as best you can, gasping when he tosses them away and immediately returns his hand between your legs. He dips his head down, tongue lathing over your breast, and teases you with the tip of one finger circling around your entrance. 
“I need—”
“Shh. Let me worry about it.”
With that, he’s dipping his ring and middle fingers just barely inside of you to the first knuckle, then back out, before pushing a bit deeper, and repeating the cycle until they’re as far as they’ll go. When he slowly starts fucking you with them, still mouthing sweetly at your breast, you’re ready to melt. 
The room is quiet except for your breathy mewls, the lewd, wet sound of his fingers inside of you, and the blood rushing in your ears. Soon your breast pops from between his lips and he finds somewhere else to leave his mark. Spencer is turning you into a work of art, with his fingers, with his mouth. You don’t mind at all. You’d let him sign his name, if he could—but you doubt he’d let you get his name tattooed. 
Soon you stop fighting the perpetual tug of your lids down and let them flutter shut, loosing a freer moan as he brushes over that sweet spot inside you. Even when he’d told you how to find it over the phone, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t like this—maddening enough to have your hips twisting again and that hot bed of coals in your tummy sparking. 
“Spencer,” you warn, leg twitching as he stokes the fire beyond the point where you can passively enjoy it. Either he’s got to slow down or he’s got to let you burn all the way up. You practically jump when you feel his tongue flick over your clit—you hadn’t even been aware of his shifting positions. Maybe you’re more out of it than you’d previously thought. Your eyes shoot open and he does it again. “Oh, fuck.”
The words are simple, quiet, and apparently that’s not enough. Before you can even process the sensation of the tip of his tongue on you he’s latching onto your clit, suckling in a way that has your vision momentarily going out. You cry out and kick involuntarily, hips jumping up, but he captures your leg and presses you down into the mattress so no matter how much you squirm and squeak you can’t get away. 
“Fuckfuckfuck, Spencer I wa—ah—sn’t ready—oh my god.”
He remembers his fingers deep inside you and begins rutting them and you hiss, inhaling sharply through your teeth before letting it all out in a tremulous moan. The orgasm is building up so quickly it almost feels like an attack on your poor body as you try to process it all to no avail. Every sound you make is a vulnerable mess of pleasure and pain, a clear fear of surrendering to something inevitable. Of course, it doesn’t really hurt at all. As usual, he’s blindsided you. Found you unprepared. You rake your fingers through Spencer’s hair, continuing on with your shaky moans that sound half-worried. 
“Oh, please.” Really, you’re just pleading to be put out of your misery. It’s in moments like this, as the black is creeping in around the edges of your vision and your thoughts become threads in the tangle of an existence knotting in on itself with no discernible end or beginning in your mind until everything is completely abstract, that you’re reminded why the French refer to orgasm as the little death.  
Your fingers lace tight enough in the wilds of his hair to pull, and he groans against you, and those vibrations are your undoing. You succumb to the dark momentarily but he continues a loving assault of gentle kisses to your clit—careful enough so as to be inoffensive even after the euphoria abates and you’re hypersensitive, still relishing soft strands of hair between your knuckles. 
You’re breathing hard as you blink your vision back, looking down at him as he looks up at you from his place between your legs and rubs the top of your thigh.
“I wasn’t ready,” you pant, lips flashing into a tired smile that doesn’t hold a candle to his own livelier one. 
“Took it like a champ.”
If you weren’t already so warm his sarcastic comment would inspire more heat in the apples of your cheeks. 
“Dr. Spencer Reid using sports idioms?” You smile as he climbs back up your body. 
“It’s unreasonably sexy that you said idiom and not simile.” He kisses you, grin mirroring yours, and you don’t complain about the slick still on his lips. “And look at that. Not afraid to kiss me when I taste like you anymore.”
“I remember what you said,” you whisper, eyes bouncing between his, glowing amber pools in the low light. The words echo in your head from the first time he’d gone down on you and you’d been hesitant to taste yourself. 
One day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.
“So do I,” he points out needlessly. “Eerily prophetic, hm?”
“I think you just like going down on me,” you laugh. 
Without the light on, his smile is just as brilliant as usual.  
“You might be right about that.”
Another interlude of quiet begins, but you don’t mind it. Taking this slow, as desperate as you’ve been for it, feels nice. Easy. Waves of burning need ebb and flow, but for now, it feels nice to be bathed in his candlelight gaze, know you’re loved, and nothing else. 
“What next?” You whisper after a long moment, lifting your hand to trace the line of his jaw. He leans into it slightly, lips brushing your palm. 
“That’s up to you, angel. What’s going to make you feel most comfortable?” 
Your bottom lip rolls between your teeth as you think and he tracks the movement, corner of his mouth twitching fondly. 
“It might help if you weren’t fully clothed.”
“I think we could probably do something about that.”
He pecks the tip of your nose playfully and then he’s pushing off the bed. Your brow wrinkles as you follow suit only partially, sitting up with your legs folded under you and pulling the sheets over your body to combat the chill and the vulnerability of being completely naked. 
“Oh, my god. You had your shoes on that whole time?”
“I got distracted,” Spencer defends, almost tripping over himself in his hurry to slip the loafers off. 
You clutch the sheet to your chest, watching the adorable way he pushes his hair out of his face as he rushes. He’s so clearly excited—it shows in the flush of his cheek and his even worse than usual coordination. 
“But on my bed?”
“I’m sorry,” he says without seeming very apologetic, leaning down to catch your chin between his thumb and forefinger and pressing his lips to yours. “I’ll pay to have your comforter dry cleaned. I’ll buy you a new one. I don’t care.”
“How chivalrous.”
“I am,” he insists against your lips, shaped by what is surely a boyish smirk. 
Unsurprisingly, you get lost in the kiss, dropping the sheet to hang onto his shoulders. Spencer takes advantage of the once-more revealed skin, rubbing your thigh with slow passes in a way that has you all lit up again already. It doesn’t help that his tie is skimming right over the recess between your folded thighs as he leans over your seated form, kissing you deeper as the moments pass. 
“You’re distracting me now,” you scold, but your voice is quiet and smiley as your noses brush. 
“Do you want to help me with my clothes?”
You nod, heart hatching like a cocoon and already slipping a finger into the knot of his tie so you can tug perhaps not gently enough. He chuckles, bracing himself with his fists on either side of your lap as you pull and yank until the fabric comes loose and you slip it from around his neck, flinging it blindly for dramatic effect. Then he slowly draws back to his full height, until you’re about eye-level with his chest. His gaze fixes on you, feverish and intent as he finds the buckle of his belt without looking. The slide of leather on leather, the jingle of the metal has the hairs on the back of your neck rising and you fight a chill as he pins you with his stare—feeling rather powerless as he towers over you, still essentially fully clothed while you’re completely naked. 
You probably shouldn’t be as thrilled by it as you are. 
Spencer tosses the belt on the floor and watches on, utterly charmed as you rise to your knees. His hands find your waist, steadying you as you begin unbuttoning his shirt with slow, careful fingers. 
“See?” You murmur bashfully. “Helping.”
His voice is equally as soft. 
“Very helpful. Thank you.”
The tension in the quiet room gets to be too much and you have to focus hard on the task at hand, failing to bite back a twisty smile. For once, he keeps his stupid perfect mouth shut and lets you push the fabric of his open shirt from his shoulders in humid silence. 
Your fingers skate down his torso and you watch the muscles tense. You wonder if he notices the way he pulls you slightly closer or if it’s subconscious as you both track the path of your hands. 
“Your button is on the wrong side,” you note, voice wavering slightly, once your fingers stall at the waistband of his pants.
Spencer chuckles. You feel silly. 
“Men and women’s clothing tend to have the buttons on different sides, if that’s what you mean.”
“Oh.” A beat of silence, before the words come pouring out. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I’m still a little bit nervous, I think.”
“That’s okay,” Spencer assures you, hands gliding up and down the soft lines of your waist. “It’s okay that you’re nervous. But I’m going to take really good care of you, okay?”
You nod, not looking away from the exposed skin of his torso. 
“And if at any point you need to take a break or stop, you’ll tell me.”
“I will, but… I don’t need to stop right now.”
“Then you can go as slow as you want.”
You swallow and take a moment to gather yourself before continuing on undoing his pants. With his assistance, you pull them down, and with them his boxers tug an inch or two lower, exposing a subtle v-shape before it disappears beneath the waistband. The fabric is obviously tented. A ball of nervous anticipation spins faster in your stomach, drawing all the heat in your body down between your legs. He’s pretty everywhere. You’d nearly forgotten. 
Spencer’s stomach tenses under your light touch as you drag your fingers down, down, just to the waistband. It’s then that you look up at him for permission to continue, and find his eyes already on you, heated and intense. 
“Go ahead, honey.”
Again you find yourself quite excited to touch him, but you start cautiously, simply letting your hand fall over the shape of him through the fabric. Even that has his chest rising and falling at a slightly quickened rate, and one of his hands finds your unoccupied one, twining them together. That small gesture inspires you to bolden your explorations, becoming more insistent in the way you palm at him. He feels big, which is a concern of yours. But you try not to let that intimidate you.  
Already he’s quite hard, you suspect from going down on you earlier (which is flattering as much as it embarrasses you) and your fingers graze a small wet patch of fabric. You fixate on the shaky little breath he releases as you push down his boxers with new fervor, and his cock springs up. 
He’s still perfect. 
You smear beads of precum down his tip, and he sighs, letting his head fall against yours as you both watch. A few coquettish pumps and he’s humming, kissing your face and dragging his lips down your neck where he makes a home for himself. Apparently the sight of your hand wrapped around him had been too much to bear. 
“So good. Missed this.”
“It’s just my hand,” you whisper, a little insecure that he’s maybe playing it up for your benefit. 
“It’s you.”
His voice is so breathy, you sort of have to believe him. 
“Can I…?”
Too nervous to voice what you really mean, you trail off, but it apparently doesn’t matter to Spencer. He lifts his head like he’s in a stupor but you’ve said something urgent. 
“Anything you want. You can do whatever you want.”
“Okay. Um…”
You let go of his hand (and his dick). Spencer automatically rotates to accommodate you as you end up on your knees on the wooden floor in front of him. 
“This is what you want?” He breathes, already pushing his fingers through your hair and gathering it back as you look up at him and nod. 
Very quickly you have him back in your hand, trying to remember what you learned from the few times you’ve done this. You start perhaps a bit softer, less eager to prove yourself than you have in the past—simply dragging him over your tongue before enveloping his tip in your mouth, and releasing with a pop. Despite being overtly, explicitly, and undeniably sexual, there’s something almost chaste about the way you handle him. It’s a (dirty) expression of love, and you think he understands that as he rubs at your cheek affectionately. 
Eventually, however, you get too excited, and you take him into your mouth in earnest, bobbing your head slowly and seeing how much of him you can take without gagging. 
Spencer makes the prettiest noises—they’re breathy, and not ostentatious, but he��s got such a nice speaking voice it’s like his gasps are bars in a song. You whine around him, wriggling your hips in a rather pathetic display, and then all too quickly he’s tugging your hair so you can’t keep him in your mouth. 
“What?” You ask, closer to pouting than you’d care to admit and voice slightly hoarse. “You said I could do anything I want.”
“Not if you’re that good at it. Come here.”
He helps you up and catches you in a deep, messy kiss before you’ve fully regained your footing, swaying against him, but he holds you fast, pulling away slow like strings of honey trail between your mouths. 
Spencer’s eyes are fixed on yours, lips parted in a sort of wonder before he glances down to your own mouth, wiping the shine from your bottom lip. Any moment you’re expecting him to say something, to tell you you’re beautiful or perfect or that he’s in love with you—but instead he just meets your eyes again, that same wonder-struck look on his pretty face. A tiny, breathy laugh forces itself from his chest like you’re a genuine miracle. 
You feel so observed—seen in a way you’ve never been seen, looked at closer than anyone has ever looked at you before. And he still looks at you like you’re the human embodiment of love, the closest mortal manifestation of the divine, Galatea come down from her marble pedestal. The way he looks at you has your heart pounding and your breathing hastened. Adoration has never been something so physical, so tangible, ever before in your life. Your blood hums at the frequency of his electromagnetic field—an energetic aura that surrounds each person and can be detected from several feet away, as he’d explained it to you. It originates from the heart and if you spend enough time close to  someone, syncs up the beating of your most vital organ with theirs until it’s a perfect match. Maybe that’s why, almost as quickly as your heart had begun to pound, it slows again, and you feel any reservation flush from your body like a fever. 
“Okay,” you breathe, cataloguing every angle and curve of his face to store with all the rest, all the moments that feel important. Of course, you’ll never remember them like he does yours. But you’ll be damned if you don’t try your hardest. 
“Okay?” Spencer asks. He understands the confirmation for what it is, and searches for signs of hesitation on your face while rubbing reassuring circles into your hip. You nod resolutely. 
As he lays you down on your bed, it feels like you’re entering some kind of altered state. Everything is muted and glowing with a watercolor aura in the dark and you really only care about the man on top of you and the way moonlight dances on his skin and the way he smells like smoky amber and rain. He makes sure the pillows are fluffed under you, before sweeping your hair from beneath your shoulders into a corona around your head. All the while his eyes are so soft on you, just like his hands, and his lips when he leans down to touch them to yours. 
One of said hands finds its way to your jaw, trailing down over your neck and collarbone, before settling over your breast where he swipes a thumb over your nipple, lightly, slowly, several times. 
Once again you’re struck with the odd feeling, even with his hand on you like this, that the situation isn’t sexual in the way you’d anticipated. It’s not pornographic, or even very dirty. Everything Spencer does, even as his hand sneaks down between your legs, he does because he loves you. 
“One more like this,” he mutters against your jaw after a moment. 
“Why?”
Your impatience yields a smile you can only feel against your skin. 
“Just want you relaxed and feeling good. That’s all.”
When you assent, his fingers are already slowly pushing inside you. 
It seems you’ve entered some sort of time warp as well, because you reach a gentle peak in what feels like record time, aided by his easy murmurings and saccharine praise.
“Perfect. That was perfect,” Spencer says with a kiss to your shoulder as he slides his fingers from you and you feel yourself literally dripping onto the sheets. “Can I ask you something before we get carried away?”
“Mhm,” you hum, sweet and compliant as pleasure dulls your inhibitions for the second time tonight and your head lolls into the pillows. 
“Baby,” he croons, voice soft as worn paper as your lids flutter and lashes brush febrile cheeks, thumbing over the heated skin. “Need you a little more alert, sweet girl.”
“’M trying,” you whine, though it’s half self-effacing laugh. Spencer chuckles too as you shake your head and take a deep breath, trying to reinvigorate yourself. “Okay. Go.”
“Well… we don’t have any protection.” Before you can groan, loudly, he hurries on. “And that’s… I’m okay with that, if it’s what you still want. I trust you. But there will come… a moment of reckoning. And I need to know where I should… reckon. So you don’t end up surprised.”
Now you’re really laughing—a giggly mess beneath him as your arms loop over his shoulders. 
“Stop it,” he whines, pressing his nose to your cheek as you turn your head in an effort to not snort at your boyfriend to his face. “That was for your benefit, you know. You get squeamish.”
“I’m sorry, I just can’t take you seriously when you refer to it as reckoning.”
“Fine. I’ll rephrase. When I come, you essentially have two options. Inside, or on your stomach. Tell me where you want it.”
Your breath catches and your stomach does that tripping-over-itself thing again. 
“Um…”
Another fond half laugh, at your expense, is pressed against your skin. It’s enough to prompt you into answering—he doesn’t have to say anything to make his point about your being squeamish. 
“Inside,” you mutter, shy as you attempt to bring him closer so he won’t be able to look at you quite so closely. You wonder if he’s remembering the conversation you’d had over the phone last week—before he’d accidentally kind of broken up with you—about this very subject. You certainly are. 
“Okay. I want you to have everything that you want.” A few kisses to your neck later, between nips, he speaks again. “Just need to hear that you want this one more time.”
“I want this,” you repeat, obedient and honest, plain and simple. “Now, please.”
Spencer responds by first kissing you, firm and loving. It soothes you, and he punctuates it with a kiss to your cheek, before he’s reaching down and guiding himself between your legs. You feel surprisingly calm, more overcome with love and the light pleasure rolling down your back as he drags himself over your clit than you are by nerves. Still, you pointedly hold his gaze, not looking down in case you psych yourself out. He slots himself in place, tip resting against your entrance. 
“Remember, if you need to stop at any point—”
“I remember,” you cut him off hurriedly. 
Okay. So perhaps you’re still slightly nervous. 
He watches you, sympathetic though you’re not sure what for. 
“I need you as relaxed as possible, okay? I want this to be easy on you.”
You take a moment, scanning your whole body for tense muscles. When you feel sufficiently relaxed, you offer Spencer a small nod, and at that, he begins pushing into you ever so slightly. 
At first, it just feels foreign. He’s going so slowly, so carefully, you’re not sure he’s moving at all—until he finds resistance and the odd full feeling changes to a hint of burning stretch. Your hips jump and your breath catches, and Spencer stops immediately, relieving the pressure with a tiny shift in position. 
“It’s gonna hurt,” you realize, eyes darting between his like he might be able to tell you otherwise. You’d always been aware of the possibility, but you were holding out hope that you’d be one of those people who didn’t experience any pain their first time. 
“Just for a minute. Then it’ll feel good, angel.”
You swallow and nod. At the end of the day, you trust him completely. You trust him enough to let him hurt you. 
“Super deep breaths for me.”
He watches intently as you follow his directions, taking several deep breaths in succession, before he begins pushing into you once more. The pressure builds and builds until he pushes past that point of resistance, and it’s like he’s breaking you in two. 
“Ah,” you gasp, abs twisting as your body tries to escape the sensation without any input from you. 
“I know. I know, baby, that was the hardest part. Breathe.”
He drops his thumb to your clit, rubbing circles with light pressure to distract from the pain.
You nod, lips pressed together tight as the deep ache muddles your brain. It’s an insistent pressure against something does not seem to want to budge. It burns and stretches and is laced with sour, flirtatious pleasure so that you can hardly tell what it is you’re feeling. Mostly, you’re dizzy and hot.
“Relax, just like that,” he strains, looking down. “My good girl. We’re almost there, baby.”
Cries spill unbidden from your mouth and your eyes shut as he continues to open you up deeper, until finally, finally, his hips settle into the cradle of yours. 
Spencer sighs a curse under his breath, so quiet you don’t think it was meant for you. 
He’s inside of you. It’s bizarre. 
You whimper, and he snaps out of whatever revery he’d been in. 
“You okay? How does that feel?”
You take a shuddering breath, closing your eyes and trying to clear your head to no avail—your thoughts are like TV static. 
“I’m good. I need… I need a minute.”
“You can have as much time as you need. It’s a lot, huh?”
“Yeah,” you admit, voice small and weak. 
“I bet,” he agrees, peppering soft kisses all over your face. “But you’re doing so well. Proud of you, brave girl. You’re doing so well and we’re gonna make sure it feels good soon, okay? Whenever you’re ready.”
“Will you please kiss me again?” you whisper, and Spencer’s brow knits with concern. 
“Of course, angel. Of course I’ll kiss you,” he says, and makes good on his promise with his lips on yours. It sweetens the ache. “I’ll do whatever you want. You can have anything. You’re so perfect.”
He kisses you again, just as lovingly, and soft, like you’re delicate. All the praise is only contributing to your lightheadedness, but you don’t mind at all. It feels good. 
“You can… you can move.”
“Okay. We’ll go really slow, yeah?”
He waits for your nod before his hips are pulling back and you arch at the odd sensation. When he pushes back in, eyes carefully locked on yours the whole time, you keen slightly, frowning and brain shorting out as it tries and fails to process this new feeling. 
“Uh-huh. You’re okay, I promise.”
At first it doesn’t feel good. It mostly hurts. But slowly, the pain begins to abate as you acclimate to having him inside of you, and he’s careful the whole time. 
“Spence?” 
“Hm?”
He sounds concentrated on the task at hand—you’re entranced by the sight of him above you, the parted lips, the unkempt hair over the brow furrowed in pleasure and focus. But he’s never too busy for you. 
“Does it… um—” you pause to hold back a whine—“what does it feel like for you?”
At this, he slows even further and chuckles—it’s a strained, slightly breathy sound. 
“For me?”
“Mhm.”
“You feel perfect, baby. You feel so fucking good.”
The slight fry in Spencer’s voice as he curses, which is a rare event in and of itself, flips your stomach, turns you on immensely. The idea that you’re giving him pleasure too—it’s almost overwhelming. That’s when it starts feeling good. 
“Oh—” you squeak, jaw dropping and bucking your hips inadvertently as the first bolt of true pleasure shocks deep in your core. He hums. 
“Yeah, is that it, sweet girl?”
But you can’t answer for a long moment. Your brain is melting as your legs lock around him. 
“Mm—it’s—it feels…”
“I know it does,” Spencer murmurs.
You whine and press your face into the curve of his shoulder as each thrust gently rocks your body. As the pace picks up bit by bit, you feel yourself clenching hard around him. His hips stutter and he hisses. 
“Ah. Can’t do that, lovely.”
“What? Did I hurt you?”
He laughs breathily. 
“No, you didn’t hurt me. You almost pushed me out. You have to relax.”
“Sorry,” you whisper. “’M trying.”
“You don’t need to be sorry. I know you’re trying, baby, you’re being so good for me.”
Your nails skim his back—a small expression of a much larger desperation. Once he’s sure you’re relaxed around him, begins going faster. 
Your gasps and soft moans come more often now as he finds a steady rhythm and it feels so different when he’s actually fucking you. It feels like he’s everywhere. Every time your hips meet you feel the sweet shock of it in your teeth, your toes, the back of your neck. In the best way, you feel consumed by him. It’s not at all like you’d imagined, and it’s perfect. 
“Wait, Spencer,” you breathe, struggling to form the words. Immediately he stops again, lifting his head from your shoulder to examine your face. 
“What is it?”
He sounds just as wrecked as you feel, panting and strained and it feels good to hear. 
“I wanna watch.”
For a moment his eyes dart between yours like he’s trying to determine what you really mean—but you said exactly what you meant. Then he laughs, a huff of air from his nose as he presses his head to yours and gives you a quick kiss.
Your toes curl as he readjusts his position, holding himself a little higher and resting your heads together so you can both look between your bodies. 
“There,” he murmurs as he slowly begins to withdraw again. “Like that?”
But you can’t answer, because you’re too busy whimpering at the sight of him pushing into you. The feeling seems to increase tenfold as you watch it happen. Distantly you wonder how the fuck it fits. 
“Yeah,” you whisper. “Like that.”
Spencer takes this as a blessing to find a pace again, slower now as he seems to be just as enthralled by the sight as you are. 
“Give me your leg,” he rasps after a few moments like that, and you don’t know what he means exactly but you lift your right leg slightly only for him to press his hand to the back of your knee and push toward your chest, effectively opening you up and giving him more range of motion. It also enables him to fuck you even deeper. Again he slows, apparently savoring the feel of you yielding around him all the way down to the hilt. 
Black spots dance in your eyes as he settles at your deepest point—not pain, necessarily, just overwhelming sensation. Your jaw drops and you choke out a moan as he presses into recesses you didn’t know you had, as he shows you a part that you might have gone the rest of your life without knowing existed. He stops there, like that. Everything stops there, like that. If the cars on the road below ceased to drive, if the airplanes froze in the sky, you’d not be the least bit surprised. Somehow, you’ve unlocked a small eternity. There’s no sound but your joint heavy breathing and your heart pounding in your ears. The words just come bubbling up out of you in a little whine. 
“I love you.”
Spencer’s breath pauses for a moment before he’s letting it all out at once, brushing his lips up the ridge of your nose before they settle on your forehead in what seems like a permanent kiss. A few breaths in, you allow your eyes to flutter shut. Your heart rate slows down a touch, and you settle into the moment, never having been quite so content as you are like this—never having felt quite so adored and safe. 
“I love you,” he finally echoes, voice rasping, lips still pressed to your skin, still breathing against your hair. When he starts to move again, drawing back ever so slowly, you hiss softly. He raises his head from yours, and you look away from where he’s pulling out, meeting his eyes just in time for him to push back in, just as deep. They shine in the mostly-dark room and you moan unabashedly. It’s a high-pitched, sweet thing, nothing that will have the neighbors complaining—but so clearly true, from the depths of your soul, an expression of everything you’re feeling—not just the pleasure. 
Although that’s good, too, as Spencer shapes you to him again and again, the head of his cock kissing places nobody’s ever been and places you hope nobody else will ever venture to. This is all you need. Him. 
“Jesus,” Spencer groans, eyes fixed on your face as he fucks you slowly. But you can’t bring yourself to talk, too new to this kind of pleasure to find it anything other than mind-boggling and world altering. Your lips are still parted, allowing each sound to pass without filter. “Listen to you, beautiful.”
When he stops again, just to look down and marvel at you, you’re conflicted. On the one hand, you can taste the pleasure on the back of your tongue and he keeps taking it away when it’s so close. But on the other—you’re just as overwhelmed as he said you’d be. Your body has never had to process this kind of sensory information before, and you’re exhausted, but it’s so good. 
“Spencer,” you manage. He looks up, pupils blown and eyes lidded where they’d normally be wide. “Please don’t stop.”
He swallows, spurred into action again as soon as you say it. 
“Good?”
You nod and whine again as he picks up the pace bit by bit, remembering to push your leg back once more so he can get as deep as you need him. 
“So good,” you exhale at the top pitch of your voice. Your brows pinch and you release a fuller moan as Spencer finds a speed that’s fast enough to constantly feel good no matter where he is. You’re gasping for breath, back arching—and he finds a new angle, catching against the spot inside you that renders all those years of human evolution that gave you sentience and intelligence a waste. He chuckles airily at your series of series of affronted moans and halted gasps. 
“Right there? That's a good spot, isn’t it?”
“Oh, go—fuck, fuck!”
It feels so good it almost hurts, and your eyes are stinging to prove it. Your legs clamp tighter around him and you realize there’s a very lewd wet sound and you can’t believe that’s you. 
“Spencer, you’re—oh my god, I love you,” you whine, and it sounds like you’re pleading for your life. At this makes his own sound of pleasure, and hastens his messy circles on your clit as if in reward. 
But it’s too much all combined. 
Your hand claps to your mouth to obscure the loud, licentious moan that comes out—but Spencer immediately moves his hand from between your legs to grab your wrist and pin it gently to the bed, intertwining your fingers. 
“Don’t do that. Let me hear.”
You nod, and he lets go of your hand to return his fingers to your clit. If possible you get wetter around his cock—you can feel yourself gushing. 
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whine as if pained. 
“Yeah? Gonna finally let me feel you cumming, angel?”
He has a filthy mouth when he wants to. The words hit like high voltage to your core and the very pit of your stomach. You can’t even respond beyond a desperate sob. 
“Show me, baby. I’m right here. Let go.”
You cum around his cock with a broken cry and it’s like a purge of every drop of angst you’d felt over the past week or so—hell, it’s a purge of all the insecurities that had bubbled to the surface since you started dating him. None of it matters anymore. How could it matter when you have him? When you have this?
The orgasm washes you out like a tidal wave, taking everything with it. It’s strong, and it’s so good, so intense, your body is overwrought with sensation and it’s too much even though it’s perfect. Your brain is drawing a blank as it tries to react to the feeling, and it’s like every button on the damn panel has been hit. 
“Fuck, I’m close,” Spencer grits, and you feel it in the way he adjusts his position, shifting as he grips at the edge of the mattress for leverage and the thrusts become messier, needier. You gasp as his other hand tangles in your hair, turning your head to ghost your lips over his forearm. It’s not entirely surprising when his own lips find your shoulder—but the feeling of him finding his release just as his teeth sink into your skin does come as quite a shock. It doesn’t hurt, and you’re sure there’s no skin broken, but it’s an undeniable fact that he has grounded himself in the throes of passion by biting down on you.
Inside you, he feels hot. Searing, almost, as his spend tries to fill space that doesn’t exist. There is absolutely no room for anything else inside of you. Stars dance in your eyes at the overstimulation, but long after he’s finished he’s still fucking into you—albeit much slower and with far less technique. Spencer moans like a two bit whore, like he’s reached pain to a point of ecstasy, and to you it’s as good, as special as the singing of the planets. If he’s as sensitive as you are now, it’s no small feat for him to keep going on like this. It’s a testament to how much he doesn’t want it to be over. The pleasure is carrying him away, but you’re beginning to feel how soft you must be and how if he continues on like this you may bruise like an overripe peach. 
“Spencer,” you manage, skating your hand up and down his back in what you hope are soothing lines. “Baby.”
He whines as his lips detach from your shoulder, but his hips finally slow to a stop, nestled inside you. 
“Jesus, fuck, I'm sorry,” he breathes, opting now to bury his face in your neck (with significantly less biting this time).
You’re still reeling, toes still curled, still struggling to breathe as your head spins and spins and spins. His chest pushes against yours with every heaving breath, hot and heavy on your skin, and that’s the only sign he’s still alive until his hand eventually reanimates in your hair, scratching your head tenderly. 
For a span of minutes, you stay like that—silent, twined together like caducean serpents. His weight on top of you is perfect. This, the lack of differentiation between your body and his, is perfect. You don’t know where he ends and you begin and you don’t need to. It’s a blissful moment. 
“Hey.”
Spencer’s voice is hoarse when he finally speaks, lifting his head to look at you with flushed cheeks and messy hair and sparkly eyes. 
“Hi.”
He smiles. 
“You’re so pretty.”
“You too,” you murmur, moving your hand from his back and pressing your thumb into the hollow of his cheek. His eyes map the curves of your face as he pushes your surely askew hair back. 
“How do you feel?”
It takes you a moment to seriously consider his question, scanning your body for any undue pains, but for the moment, you find none, beyond a dull aching throb that you can manage. 
“Good. Tired.”
You wince at the uncomfortable feeling of him pulling out. Spencer hums sympathetically and presses a sticky kiss to your lips which makes it a little better, though you can’t ignore how uncomfortable all the previously pleasant wetness has become between your legs. 
“Here—stay here, I’ll get a wash cloth and—”
“It’s fine,” you insist, holding on even as he tries to roll off of you. “I just need… will you stay here for a little bit?”
“Of course,” he promises, now pressed close to your side and propped up on an elbow, “whatever you want.”
You lavish in his gaze, warm like a spotlight, as he strokes your cheek and plays with your hair. Very quickly you’re lulled into a doze, eyes fluttering shut. Minutes stretch. You feel drunk on waking dreams, and perfectly at peace. Safe. 
“Angel girl,” he christens you fondly. More than anything, it’s an observation, so lovely it sinks into your skin like a balm, soothing every tired muscle and little mark he’d made. Even half-asleep, it makes you smile. 
“You’re an angel,” you slur, reaching blindly for him, and he chuckles, catching your wrist and helpfully settling your hand on his cheek. 
“I thought you were asleep.”
You hum, “mm-mm,” looking up at him with just as much adoration as he has for you. Those cuddle hormones must be kicking in because soon you’re attempting to pull him back on top of you. He doesn’t quite comply, probably for fear of crushing you—rather he settles next to you, gathering you in his arms. 
Silence blankets the two of you, but it’s not unpleasant as you just watch each other with barely-there smiles curling your mouths. This kind of intimacy still manages to give you butterflies, even after everything else you’ve done. This kind of satisfaction, reverie in the sound of each other’s blood flowing and lungs filling. Setting aside words because you don’t need conversation as a pretense for wanting to be around each other anymore. You don’t need an excuse to look at him like this. You don’t need words any more than you need clothes. It’s enough to just be. 
“I love you,” he says, a soft reminder, and entirely redundant with the way he’d already been looking at you, touching you. 
“I know. I love you too.”
The smile flickers brighter on his face. 
“And thank you.”
Your eyes narrow minutely as you consider what he could possibly be thanking you for. 
“For what?”
“For loving me. And trusting me. It’s…” your heart squeezes as you realizes tears are pooling in his eyes. He takes a moment and clears his throat. It’s incredibly endearing. “It means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me.”
You look down, thumbing at the sheets where you’ve hoisted them over your bodies. 
“You do realize how lame we are if we have sex and both immediately start crying, right?”
At this he laughs loudly but not loud enough to pop the little bubble you’re in, and you look up just in time to catch the brilliance of his smile, the way it changes his whole face and he becomes superhuman in his beauty, the lines that form by his eyes and the way they narrow and crystalline tears bead his lashes like precious gems. 
“Don’t cry,” he requests gently, hypocritically as your own eyes sting. The way his smile fades is like the sun setting. Gorgeous, like everything else he does. “You’ve cried so much, honey. Please don’t cry.”
You sniffle, gathering yourself. 
“I’m not. That would be pathetic.”
Spender leans forward to kiss you tenderly a few more times. Ordinarily you’d worry about coming across as clingy when you hold onto him so closely and so insistently like this, but for now you don’t care. Neither does he, it seems, as he seems unable to get you close enough. Eventually, you end up curled against him, head tucked under his chin and dozing on and off as he traces shapes into your skin. 
“What are you writing?” You mumble some time later, cheek smushed against his shoulder. He only responds with a soft hm, like he was lost deep in thought. You clarify, “it feels like you were writing something.”
“She Walks in Beauty.”
Your lips pull into a sleepy smile. 
“The Lord Byron poem?”
The first time you’d met Spencer, he’d inadvertently caused your painstakingly annotated copy of Lord Byron’s works to go flying all over a cafe, and then kindly helped clean up the pages and reorder them for you in record time. Among the poems had been She Walks in Beauty. 
“Yeah. I was trying to figure out when exactly I fell in love with you, and as someone who is deeply skeptical about love at first sight, I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I keep coming back to our first conversation. I mean, I believe in genetic compatibility, and how that contributes to attraction and what we think of as chemistry, but—”
“Wait, what about our first conversation did it?” Your cheeks ache from smiling as you speak. “As I recall I was being a bitch and I was covered in coffee.”
He laughs dreamily, still tracing letters over the small of your back. You wonder what part of the poem he’s at now. 
“Yeah, mean to me and covered in coffee is pretty much exactly my type. But I think it was actually the annotations on that copy of Lord Byron’s works. They were so insightful, and personal, I—it kind of took my breath away, and I know I shouldn’t have read them all but I couldn’t stop. You were compelling, and charming, and funny and wildly intelligent and beautiful and… and I didn’t stand a chance.”
Everything aches. It’s a good ache. Despite being seconds from tearing up all over again, you snort. He never told you about that first day.
“You thought me writing ‘sister fucker’ in all caps every time he mentioned Augusta was charming?”
“Oh, obscenely so. But now that I’m looking back, I feel like… I feel like I can’t remember not being in love with you. I mean, I remember when I realized I was, and that was later. But it was like I met you, and then I was just… waiting for you to catch up.”
You grab his hand and interlace your fingers, watching the way the ambient nighttime light from the window and the bathroom dips them half in color. 
“We were pretty much on the same page. I was debating courthouse versus small intimate ceremony as soon as you left.”
You watch him watching your joined hands, features soft and relaxed, fiddling with your fingers absentmindedly as he speaks. 
“Definitely small intimate ceremony. I have too many friends who would kill me if they weren’t invited to the wedding.”
You giggle and pretend the thought doesn’t give you butterflies. You imagine a ring on your finger, the one he’s got between his own. Marriage had never been something you’d considered. Not when you had no reason to. It seemed like something for other people. But maybe one day, it will be for you, too. 
“Did you know Lord Byron had a daughter who is regarded by many as the first computer programmer? She wrote the first algorithm for a theoretical machine that was so complex it couldn’t be built with the technology available at the time. It was called an Analytical Engine.”
He sounds almost wistful as he gives you the utterly unprompted, but still welcome, abridged version of her life. The description is ringing a bell—but you can’t quite place her, sleepy as you are.  
“What was her name?”
“Ada Lovelace. She was exceptionally gifted. The odds of parent and child being so extraordinary in their respective fields are incalculable, but from a purely theoretical perspective, negligible. I mean, they’re both massive historical figureheads. That’s extremely uncommon.”
You adore it when he goes off on these tangents—the passion that stains his voice, the ardor that grips him until he has no choice but to tell you exactly what’s got him so excited. You could listen to him talk for hours. It means he’s here with you, and he wants you to love what he loves. 
Since he met you, that’s all Spencer has wanted—for you to love what he loves. 
You want the same. 
“Pretty name,” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut. “Tell me more.” 
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Text
Dinner & Diatribes
❝i knew it from the first look of mischief in your eye.❞
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Summary: You both swiped right and suddenly you're standing in a stranger's kitchen while he makes you spaghetti.
Pairing: Modern Aegon Targaryen x Reader
Word Count: 5.2k
Author’s Note: this might be the most self-indulgent fic i've ever written, so fair warning. also, thank you tom, who inspired this by saying that dinner & diatribes would be aegon's hozier song. it's just true. anyways, this was really fun to write.
Warnings: language, recreational drug use, alcohol use, fluff, intense sexual situations (including: oral sex - female receiving, sexual intercourse - p in v), just two single people who are horny, more fluff, aegon being so cute that i couldn't stop smiling the whole time i was writing this.
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It was precisely 9:39 PM on a Tuesday.
You were sitting cross-legged on your couch, nose deep in a fresh murder mystery that you had been working through for the last two days. There was a lit joint between your fingers that you were nursing, taking little hits so that it wouldn’t completely burn out, and on the cushion next to you, your phone softly vibrates and lights up; a familiar icon flashes across the screen and you can easily make out the words, “It’s a Match” from the corner of your eye. 
It’d been a regular occurrence since you had downloaded that accursed app. 
You’d been single for far too long, according to your best friend, though you hadn’t really noticed. The sweet silence of a solitary life was something that you had enjoyed for the most part. It wasn’t even like your online dating life had really taken off, either. You’d get matches but hardly anyone would reach out in any way that made you feel like they were serious. They wanted your Snapchat username, or they were in an ‘open’ relationship or asking for a threesome, and one guy even asked if you would send him pictures of your feet. Even some of the ones you thought were serious about taking you out- or even just hooking up- would end up ghosting you before anything actually happened. 
“It’s not supposed to be serious,” you could hear your friend’s words rattling around in your brain. You shake your head and focus once again on your book; they have a suspect, it’s the best friend! How fitting.
Once again, your phone lights up and vibrates. Not wanting to be distracted from the plot, you ignore your new match and get back to your mystery with anticipation; the best friend is about to confess. You go to take another hit of your joint and frown upon realizing it’s burnt out. As you move to grab your lighter, in comes another message, and another, and another. You stop what you’re doing and pick up your phone, swiping at the screen until you find the culprit. He’s known only as Aegon T, and according to the one sentence he has written on his profile, he has a dog. You swipe through his pictures- the dog is a golden retriever, the man looks like a golden retriever. 
In the message thread, he’s basically talking to himself. 
There’s four new messages waiting for you, while three little dots begin flashing at the bottom of the screen; disappearing and reappearing as you read what he’s already sent. 
“So, I’m high.”
“And I am making spaghetti… and it’s really good.”
“At least I hope it’s really good, it could just be the weed…”
“I could use a taste-tester, if you’re up for it? I can’t pay you or anything, but it’s honest work 😏”
Aegon begins typing again and you watch the screen, a smirk on your lips. You are 99% sure that the spaghetti is truly an innuendo for what he really wants and have half a heart to just block him, but you watch as those little gray dots continue in the bottom left corner of the screen; he’s going back and forth with himself and you can’t help but find it oddly cute. Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you contemplate a witty response, but before you can even begin typing, he sends a fifth message. 
“That was weird as fuck, right?”
Then a sixth.
“You probably don’t want to come over to some random guy’s house on a Tuesday.”
He finishes up with a seventh message.
“Unless you do…”
He almost sends an apology. After all, what's another message? He’s already fucked this whole thing up; not even giving himself a chance before he nose-dived. If he was being honest, he should just go ahead and delete his whole account; save you from secondhand embarrassment and save himself from repeating the same mistake again in the future. He sets the phone down on the kitchen counter and goes back to ripping bong hits to calm his nerves. Though, he’s unable to keep himself from checking his phone for a response; a response that likely wasn’t going to come and he’d spend the rest of his night feeling like a complete idiot. 
Seven back-to-back messages should have screamed ‘red flag’, but you’re glancing at the clock as if you were seriously contemplating taking this stranger up on his offer. After all, you do have needs just as much as the next person. But, you’re wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of pajama shorts, your hair’s a mess, and you were covered in the crumbs of your munchie snacks. Meaning, you were nowhere close to being prepared for what was sure to happen between you and this random stoner offering you dinner. 
Yet, you respond to him, “I could never turn down spaghetti”. 
Aegon’s stirring the sauce when he gets your message. He’s instantly elated, thrusting a celebratory fist into the air. His fingers fly across the keyboard swiftly, sending another quick message, “Atta girl 🙃 My place is on the corner of 9th and 51st, above Jasper’s.”
“Be there soon,” you reply with haste. 
It was apartment #4 and you made sure to text your friend the address, and given name of your potential murderer, and also share your location for her to keep an eye out.  She says all you have to do is text her at any time if you need her to call and bail you out with a fake emergency. All she asks in return is for you to have fun and let her know if you are planning on spending the night- which was an idea that you weren’t opposed to, but it wasn’t something you were planning on. 
You’re nervous as you stand outside of the door to his apartment, fist hovering for a moment. Now’s the time to make a fast exit- you haven’t met him, you could turn around right now and never meet him. You could wake up alive in the morning, safe in your own bed. Or, you can knock on the door and have what might be a really nice spaghetti dinner with a really nice guy. Hell, he could even be the love of your life and in fifty years you’ll both look back on this day and laugh about how you met on Tinder and how you were stupid enough to go to his house and not a public place. 
Finally, you knock. 
Aegon puts the lid back on his spaghetti sauce and shuffles into the living room. Sunfyre is on the couch with his ears perked; his tail’s wagging and he’s panting eagerly, waiting patiently to meet this new visitor. Aegon whispers over to him, “wish me luck,” and thinks to himself, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish. He peers through the peephole when he approaches the door and there you are, a sigh of relief deflates his chest. 
“Oh, thank God,” you can hear him say as the door swings open. His accent is surprisingly British. “You’re real.”
The very first thing that you notice are his eyes. They’re piercing; somehow blue and lavender at the same time– the color of a warm, summer sunrise and they’re crinkling at the edges as he smiles. He’s wearing a pair of dark gray sweats and a pale green hoodie, and the only word that comes to mind when you look at him is warmth. He’s somehow more attractive in person than he is in the pictures on his profile, which you didn’t think was possible, but he’s standing right in front of you and you can’t help but think to yourself, he doesn’t look like a murderer. 
Then again, neither did Ted Bundy.  
Aegon stands there for a moment, just staring at you, unable to do anything else. His words escape him, he can barely even breathe. You look exactly the same as your pictures; even without the makeup and even in the shitty, fluorescent overhead lights of the hallway. Even in a sweatshirt and pajama shorts, you’re stunning. He’s having a hard time believing that you actually showed up and he doesn’t realize that he’s been staring for much too long until you shrug back at him. 
“Did you think I wasn’t?” You ask with creased brows and a lopsided smile.
The corners of his lips pull upwards as he looks at you, “I don’t know. You’re just so beautiful, I’m still not entirely convinced you aren’t some sort of hologram… or a robot.” 
“Wow, you’re pretty smooth,” you say with a playful smirk, desperately trying to keep your composure— trying to play it cool, hoping that he hasn’t caught on to the fact that you’re secretly spiraling, because it took all of one smile and one compliment and you were done for. “But, I’ll have you know that flattery won’t work on me. I’m here for the spaghetti and the spaghetti alone.” 
“My apologies,” Aegon says with a chuckle as he holds his hands up defensively. “Right this way, then.” 
He steps to the side, allowing you to enter his apartment, and shuts the door behind you. It’s nice, clean, smells like fresh baked bread and tomato sauce. There’s niche artwork adorning the walls, he’s got candles burning, and there’s some lowkey, downtempo R&B playing softly in the background. He quickly moves past you and disappears into the kitchen, leaving you to follow him. 
However, before you can take all of two steps into his apartment, a flash of golden fur is suddenly at your hip, pawing for attention. You drop down to a knee and happily accept any and all kisses from the pup. “Oh! Hi, what’s your name?”
Aegon sticks his head around the corner and says, “That is Sunfyre. In case you were wonderin’, he’s a very good judge of character and I will be consultin’ with him later where you’re concerned, fair warning.” 
You roll your eyes and scratch behind Sunfyre’s ears, his tail thumps in approval. 
“Would you like something to drink?” He continues and disappears back into the kitchen. “I’ve got wine and bottled water. Oh, and milk?” There’s a rustling in the kitchen before Aegon adds with a nervous chuckle, “scratch that, there is no milk.” 
You politely excuse yourself from Sunfyre and step into the small dining room off of the kitchen. 
There’s a grin on your lips, which you pursed so that he doesn’t think you’re laughing at him. Sunfyre joins the two of you and circles around his owner’s legs as Aegon empties an almost full half-gallon of milk down the drain. His kitchen is small but looks to be well used, which you appreciate. You know almost nothing about this man, other than his name- if ‘Aegon’ was even his real name- and the name of his dog, and yet here you were, standing in the threshold of his kitchen with a strange sense of comfortability as if you had been lifelong pals. 
“Water is fine,” you tell him. 
He produces a bottle of water from his fridge and tosses it over to you with ease and goes back to the stove. You step further into the kitchen, taking in your surroundings. The kitchen, like the living room, is covered in artwork and vintage decor- things you’d only find in some obscure thrift store or estate sale. On the refrigerator are a collection of magnets from different cities and countries, real touristy type shit. Some of them even had names on them; Alexander, Aaron, Alistair, Alan, Adolf. 
Maybe these are the names of people he’s killed. 
“You travel a lot?” You ask, trying to keep the conversation going.
“I try to,” he says from over his shoulder as he continues to stir the sauce. You can hear him set the lid back on the pot. “Most of those are from my sister, Helaena. She thinks it’s hilarious to give me magnets with random ‘A’ names since you’ll never find the name Aegon on any of those,” he says from behind you. He’s leaning against the counter with a half glass of wine. You quirk an eyebrow at him, not fully convinced. “She has a few from me that say Helen.”
“Is that her?” You ask, finger pointing to a pretty blonde in one of the many photographs he had pinned up.
He nods and takes a step closer to you. He’s so close that you can feel his warmth, smell his aftershave. The proximity causes you to blush and he smirks in response, leaning over your shoulder as he points to the other people in the pictures. “Those two are my little brothers, Aemond and Daeron,” he claims and then points to two women. “That’s my half-sister, Rhae, and next to her is my mother.”
“The redhead?” You ask surprised, given she didn’t look like she could be old enough to have four grown children. He nods and takes a step back, leaning against the counter with half-lidded eyes and a tipsy blush. “She looks like she could be your sister,” you say softly, turning back to glance at all of the faces; he seemed proud of his family, like they were very close. 
You turn away from the fridge and lean against the counter at his side. It’s quiet for a moment, save for the music and the sound of boiling water where the noodles were cooking. You look at him and the corners of your lips can’t help but twist up into a shy smile, but you bite at the inside of your cheek out of nervous habit. He props himself up on his elbows, taking a sip of his wine, clearly comfortable with the silence. 
“So,” you look up at him and his little smirk grows. “About the job…”
“Ah, yes,” he nods. “As I stated earlier, I won’t be able to pay you a monetary wage, but the position does come with a benefits package.”
“And what exactly would this benefits package include?” There’s an innocent flirtatiousness in your voice that only adds to the tension. 
“Outside of the free gourmet meals that I would be providin’ to ya, which is obviously the most important part,” he smiles and steps to the side to grab a spoon from the drawer and holds it out to you. Your fingers softly close around his as you pluck the utensil from his grasp. He clears his throat to distract from the fact that he was visibly flustered from the slight touch. “There’s also unlimited cuddle sessions,” before he can finish, you shoot him a look. “With Sunfyre, of course! He’s the real boss ‘round here, after all.” 
“Cuddling with the boss?” You quirk an eyebrow and look down at the golden retriever, his eyes round and gleaming; clearly waiting for a hand-out. “Sounds like a conflict of interest to me.”
“Well, if it’s a conflict of interest you’re worried about,” he counters quickly with a soft yet playful tone. “I s’pose we could renegotiate the terms of the agreement and you could have me instead.” 
“I’m listening.”
“He might be better at cuddling for obvious reasons and he might be better lookin’,” Aegon continues. “But, I give better backrubs. I mean, I have thumbs and he don’t. You can’t give decent backrubs without thumbs, can you? Plus, he’s a sloppy kisser.” 
“Oh, you’re really trying to sweeten the deal now, huh? Backrubs and kisses? I must admit, that is quite a compelling offer,” you muse. “It seems my decision hinders on whether or not you can actually cook, wouldn’t want to accept the position blindly, now would I?”
“Are ya doubtin’ my skills?” He asked playfully. 
“No offense, but you possess the aura of someone who could fuck up a can of Spaghettios,” you tell him with a sincere smile. “So, forgive me if I don't get my hopes up.”
Aegon laughs and it’s a warm and infectious sound that fills the kitchen. It’s genuine, as is his perfect smile. You can’t seem to keep yourself from staring; eyes softly tracing every detail of his face– from his full, pink pout, to the scar above his right eyebrow, and the dimple of his chin– thinking to yourself that you’ve never seen a man more beautiful. His smile turns back into a smirk as he notices you staring at his lips and you look up to meet his eyes. There’s something about the way he looks at you that leaves you feeling vulnerable. His gaze softens as you look away, turning your attention back to the spaghetti sauce on the stove in front of you to distract yourself from the blush creeping up your neck.
There’s only one way this night ends.
It was obvious before you even left your house and it was certainly obvious now. 
“Go on, then,” he prods, motioning to the pot on the stovetop.
His eyes are wide with anticipation as you dip into the simmering sauce, stirring it a few times before bringing the spoon to your lips. He’s nervous; it’s his mother’s recipe– one he’s spent years perfecting– but with his luck, you will most likely think it’s steaming garbage. Yet, he watches intently; holding his breath as your perfect lips curl to blow softly, cooling the sauce before you finally taste it. 
The moment the spoon touches your tongue, you're determined to remain impartial. After all, you’ve had your fair share of disappointing meals from men who’ve claimed to be great cooks. Aegon certainly could be the very latest and you wouldn’t be at all surprised. So, you keep your expectations low, and try your hardest to remain stoic, but as the flavors begin to unfold, you can feel your resolve wavering. 
It’s good. Better than most. 
Reluctantly, you have to admit that this is the second-best sauce you’ve ever had, right after your grandmother’s. You glance up at Aegon, who’s watching you with a mix of anxiety and hope, and you can’t help but smile. 
“I have to give it to you,” you say, your voice betraying a hint of admiration. “This is incredible. Almost as good as my grandmother’s.”
The relief and pride that spread across his face makes your heart flutter. 
“Yeah?” He asks with a toothy grin. 
“I’m still not completely convinced that you can actually cook, but you can– at the very least– make some top-notch spaghetti sauce,” you tell him as you place your spoon to the side. 
“Top-notch, eh?” He asks playfully as he begins plating your meal. “I’ll take it.” 
“Don’t let it get to your head,” you say to him with a laugh. “It’s just spaghetti sauce.” 
“Just spaghetti sauce? Don’t let my mum hear you say that,” he says with a smirk, setting a full plate in front of you on the counter. “I guess I’ll just have to work extra hard on the next one.”
“Assuming there will be a next one,” you reply, tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “Though, you have set the bar pretty high tonight. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“Well,” he murmurs as he steps closer, his body brushing against yours as he reaches around you to grab a plate. His lips are hovering above the shell of your ear, his voice low and teasing, causing your cheeks to immediately flush as the heat between the two of you intensifies. “I’m nothing if not a perfectionist.”
For a split second you expect for him to lean in for a kiss. Your heart is simultaneously skipping beats and racing at the same time; your breath catching in your throat as he leans in— But then he smirks, grabbing the plate and taking a step backwards. He’s doing it on purpose, you realize; his proximity expertly calculated to keep you on edge. You look up at him with wide, sparkling eyes and he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. The soft blush of your cheeks has his blood pumping and sends a surge of adrenaline through him. He’s trying his absolute best to play it cool but the way you’re biting your lip and looking at him has him unraveling.
“Is that so?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “What other skills do you have up your sleeve?”
His grin widens as he looks down at you, setting his empty plate to the side. His gaze, once again, drops to your lips. “I have a few tricks,” he says softly, his voice filled with promise. “But I doubt you’d believe me if I told you, so how about I just show you?” 
“What?” You ask with a playful innocence. “Before dinner?”
“I’m not really in the mood for spaghetti anymore.” 
“Oh?” Your smirk is only growing. “What are you in the mood for?”
Aegon says nothing, but a confident grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he rests his hands on your hips. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you in by the waist, until you’re pressed against him and his lips are on yours. The kiss is both gentle and urgent and a little bit awkward, as any first kiss should be. You felt like a teenager again, kissing a boy for the first time– butterflies in your stomach and all.
It takes no time at all for you to find your rhythm with him, and he deepens the kiss, pushing you up onto the kitchen counter to meet his height. Your arms naturally drape across his shoulders, your legs wrap around his middle. He’s completely taken over your mind, filling up every tiny space that he can fit into; the smell of his cologne, the scratch of his stubble against your skin, the feeling of his hands squeezing the flesh of your thighs– his fingertips teasing just underneath the hem of your shorts. 
Breathless, he pulls away from you as he pulls your sweatshirt over your head. He stops for a moment to take in the sight of you; clad only in your bra and shorts, lips red and blotchy, swollen and full. You’re looking up at him from under your lashes, softly biting your bottom lip as you wait for him to continue. He gently lifts his hand up to your cheek and traces the curve of your cupid’s bow with his thumb, providing one last show of tenderness before he leans in to capture your lips in another searing kiss. 
His touch is suddenly rushed; spreading a wildfire across your skin in the wake of his lips as he rips off the remainder of your clothes. It doesn’t take long at all before you’re sitting exposed on his kitchen counter in only a thong, blushing wildly and covering your face with your hands. 
“No– no hiding,” he clicks his tongue and pulls your hands away from your face. “I want to see you.”
He whispers a string of profanities and compliments as his starving eyes roam your figure. Self-doubt creeps into your mind and you momentarily consider making a quick exit, convinced he won’t like what he sees, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel desired in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. 
Aegon’s gaze is electrifying and intense, drawing you in and silencing your negative thoughts instantly. His hands pull you in by the waist, sliding you to the edge of the counter as his lips work their way down your chin and neck; leaving a trail of red marks down to your chest. He hums, smirking as he takes one of your breasts in his mouth. His hand kneads the other, rolling your hardened nipple between two fingers. Your head falls back, lips parted slightly as you breathe out his name. 
Each sound he elicits from you urges him on even further until he’s on one knee, looking up at you from his position with those pretty eyes. He runs a hand up the back of your calf, softly teasing you with his fingertips before tossing your leg over his shoulder. You knew where he was going, and yet, you were still surprised as he began placing open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs; shivering in anticipation as goosebumps formed on your skin. 
“You’re so wet,” he says proudly, praising you. 
His eyes are locked with yours as his fingers delicately smooth over your clothed clit. He hooks a finger around the dampened cotton and pulls your thong to the side, groaning at the sight of your perfect pussy. Without wasting another second, Aegon’s mouth is suddenly on you and your hands immediately find the back of his head; fingers curling into the roots of his silver hair. 
You roll your hips against his tongue, cursing out as your legs begin to shake. He moans, face still buried deep in you and the vibrations have you writhing. Both of his arms are wrapped around your thighs now, holding you tight to him, not letting up for even a second. Then he stands, lifting you up onto his shoulders. You squeal in shock, holding onto him tightly, but he doesn’t stop; he continues to devour you as he blindly carries you towards his bedroom. 
When his knees hit the side of his bed, he tosses you back onto the mattress. 
You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as he strips out of his clothes. . You can see the outline of his arousal; prominent and pressing firmly against the fabric of his sweats. You bite your lip at the sight and he smirks as he catches your stare. His movements are unhurried, giving you ample time to appreciate the sight before you. His hoodie and shirt come off first, then his sweats, and you can’t help but notice the way that his muscles flex with each motion. He’s not overly built, but there’s a solid strength in his frame that is evident in the way he moves.
Outside, headlights from passing cars cast streaks of light and shadows across the walls of his room. It’s quiet, the music in the other room has stopped playing and all you can hear is the sound of your own heart beating in your ears. You swallow thickly, encompassed by the tension of the moment as he crawls up the length of your body; placing tender kisses along your skin. His lips leave a trail of warmth, each touch igniting a spark that travels through your entire body.
When he reaches your face, he pauses, his breath mingling with yours as he hovers just inches away. The anticipation builds, thick and electric in the air between you. His lips find yours in a kiss that starts slow and tender but quickly deepens; fingers threading through your hair as he pulls you closer, his body pressing yours deeper into the plush mattress. Your hands explore his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, feeling the tension and strength beneath his skin and coming to rest on his shoulders; gripping tightly as he continues to worship your body with his mouth. Each kiss, each touch, is deliberate, heightening your senses and pulling you further into the moment.
You curse at the feeling of his girth against your entrance. Your hand moves up to the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips as he presses slowly into you. 
“Oh fuck,” he whimpers into the crook of your neck as his arms become weak. 
He knows that he won’t last like this; it’s been a while and you feel way too good. He’s slow at first, wanting to steady himself and maintain control, but his rhythm picks up quickly; hips moving with an unrelenting rhythm, each thrust bringing you both closer to the edge. You can feel his muscles tense, his grip on you tightening as he buries his face in your neck. His moans are a mix of pleasure and desperation, and you can tell he’s fighting to hold back.
You tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, feeling the overwhelming need to reach that peak together. His pace quickens, the tension in his body building to a breaking point. You feel the same pressure inside of you mounting before it’s suddenly crashing over you like a wave. He follows seconds later, a low groan escaping his lips as he spills into you. The intensity of the moment leaves you both breathless and clinging to each other, bathing in the afterglow. 
“That was incredible,” he murmurs against your skin, head pressed to your chest as you stroke his hair softly. His eyes flutter shut as he listens to the sounds of your heartbeat. 
You hum in agreement, smiling to yourself as you savor the peacefulness of the moment. 
Suddenly, you’re joined by Sunfyre jumping up on the bed, his tail wagging enthusiastically. You smile at him and pat the empty space next to you, inviting him to join your cuddle session. He eagerly accepts the invitation, circling the bed a few times before snuggling up next to you. Aegon lifts his head and smiles, clearly pleased that you would be so open to having the dog in bed with you. He wraps his arm around both you and Sunfyre, pulling you closer. 
“This is perfect,” he says softly, his voice filled with contentment as he lays his head back on your chest. 
"So, about that job offer," you say playfully, your fingers tracing patterns along his skin. "I think I'll accept the position. When would you like for me to start?"
He lifts his head to look at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “How about tomorrow night at seven?”
Before you can respond, a distinct burning smell reaches your nose. Your brows furrow as you sniff the air. “Do you smell that?”
Aegon’s eyes widen in realization. “The spaghetti!” 
He jumps up from the bed, pulling on his clothes quickly, and scrambles into the kitchen. You follow behind him, tossing one of his t-shirts over your head and meet him in the kitchen. 
“I guess I forgot to turn off the burner,” Aegon looks disappointed but then chuckles, shaking his head. He looks at you with a glint in his eye and smirks. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”
“Oh, that sucks!” You laugh, playfully nudging him. “Is it too late to back out of the job now?”
“Way too late for that,” he says as he pulls you into a soft kiss, silencing any doubts immediately. “You’re mine now.” 
“Mm,” you hum against his lips. “But I came here for the spaghetti.”
He chuckles and pulls back slightly. “Will you settle for pizza?”
“I’ll settle for anything, as long as it’s with you,” you say with a smile as you wrap your arms around his waist. “And as long as there’s extra cheese!”
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bpmiranda · 19 days
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Uncle Logan II |l. howlett| nsfw
A/N: pure smut, uncle!logan x faux!niece reader, smut, age gap, 18+ f!reader, clit play, fingering, spitting, orgasm denial, mean!logan, dom!logan
Uncle Logan
The hell is wrong with me? Logan thought to himself the next morning as he laid awake on his bed, rubbing his hand over his face and scratching his beard in frustration. Before yesterday, he had never looked at you in that manner, but something about seeing you all grown up, dressed up so pretty, so vulnerable for him. It was like he couldn’t help himself, he needed to taste you so badly, his instincts taking over any reason he had left.
It couldn’t be as bad as he thought, you weren’t really his niece at the end of the day. Maybe, hopefully, you’d forgotten about last night and it wouldn’t come up. Logan knew that wasn’t the case when you shyly came out of your bedroom and looked at him with wide, nervous eyes. “Morning, Uncle Logan.” You said in a voice barely above a whisper.
“Hey, sweet girl,” He said, looking at you over the rim of his mug as he sipped his coffee while sitting at the kitchen table. “Have a seat.” He motioned to the chair across from him and you obediently sat down. Logan pushed a mug towards you that was filled with coffee as well and you gave him a thankful smile as you sipped it slowly. “About last night,” He started, watching you carefully as he tried to figure out how to word this for you. “I hope you understand that I’m only tough on you because that’s what your parents want and that’s clearly what you need.” You chew anxiously on your bottom lip and nod slowly, hands holding tightly onto your mug as it sits in your lap. “The sneaking out, the drinking at bars, it’s gotta stop. You can’t behave like that anymore, got it?” You nod again. Logan takes in a deep breath and clears his throat. “I shouldn’t have come onto you the way I did. It wasn’t appropriate, and I apologize.”
Your cheeks grew warm with the reminder of last night and you looked down at your mug, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. “I’m sorry, Uncle Logan.” You said, looking back up at him. “I won’t sneak out again.”
“Good.”
That was the end of that conversation.
Logan made you breakfast and then gave you a list of chores to complete while he went to work. “Everything on this list?” You ask with a mouthful of eggs and he chuckles, shaking his head as he shrugs on his coat and tucks his reading glasses into the inside breast pocket.
“I warned your dad long ago not to spoil you.” He sighed with a smirk, caressing your head and kissing your forehead before leaving the apartment. “It better all be completed before I get back.” He calls as he closes the door behind him.
With a soft groan, you finish your breakfast and wash the dishes, which is the first thing on the list, and you smile. “Okay, done with that.” You say to yourself as you cross it off and then you read the rest of the list. “Sweep the apartment, mop the kitchen, clean the bathroom, wash the windows, take out the trash.” You pout and whine, already bored and annoyed with the list until you get an idea.
“You want me to come do your chores for you?” Adam laughs over the phone.
You can’t help the smile on your lips as you’re sitting on the living room couch, twirling a strand of your hair around your finger. “Please, baby?” You whine sweetly. “If you help me, we’ll have the apartment to ourselves.” You say in a singsong voice. “My uncle won’t be home until tonight. We can fool around a little since we couldn’t meet up last night.”
It doesn’t take much more than that to convince him and he arrives at Logan’s apartment within thirty minutes. You task him with the messier chores to do while you focus on the sweeping and the windows. When you finish before him and you tell him you’re going to take a quick shower as he leaves to take the trash out.
Underneath the hot water, you touch your chest slowly, run your fingers over the spot between your breasts where your uncle had kissed and bit on you last night. The thought made you clench your thighs together and you rushed through the rest of your shower to meet Adam in your bedroom. He was lying on your bed, flipping through a book while he waited for you, and he sat up immediately when you walked in wearing just your towel. “Hey,” He smirked, standing up and walking over to you. “Are we going to, you know?” He asked as he held onto your hips.
“No,” You smirked, pushing him back softly. “You’re going to sit on the bed and watch me.” Adam smiles as he lets you push him onto the end of your bed. You pick out a pair of black lace panties and a black camisole with a lace trim on the neckline. You drop your towel and make eye contact with your boyfriend as you slip the garments on.
“You’re killing me, sweet pea.�� He groans as you walk over to him, giggling while you sat on his lap and kissed him. His hands slid slowly up your thighs and you immediately started to think about Logan. Your core ached as you remembered how his hands felt as they gripped tightly onto your thighs, your hands clutched onto his shoulders, and you pushed him back so he’d lay down. “Fuck, baby.” He groaned, grabbing your ass as you rocked your hips against his crotch.
All you could think about was Logan as you kept your eyes closed and tried to imagine it was him underneath you, pawing at you, begging for you. “Uh,” You gasped, a familiar tension forming in the pit of your belly. “Oh, oh, my God!” You groaned loudly, eyes squeezed shut as you were so close.
And then your bedroom door burst open making you gasp as you jumped off your boyfriend and scrambled to the other side of the room. Logan was standing in the doorway, fuming, looking from you to Adam who was visibly nervous underneath the hard, cold gaze of the large man blocking his only way out. “You,” Logan pointed at Adam and approached him, grabbing him roughly by the front of his shirt and dragging him out of your room. “Come with me.” You moved to stop Logan until he suddenly turned to you and you froze. “You stay right here.” He said through gritted teeth before he slammed your door shut. You could hear Logan yelling, Adam stammering back a response, and then the slam of the apartment door. You jumped at the sound, the apartment seemed to quake from the force, and you quickly got into your bed where you pulled the sheets up to cover yourself.
There was heavy pacing in the living area and it suddenly stopped. You grew nervous as you heard him coming to your door, your hands trembled as you held tightly onto your blankets. The door opened and Logan walked in with a tight jaw and cold eyes. As the door slammed behind him, you found yourself sitting up a little, almost expectantly.
“You don’t know how to follow directions, do you?” He asked, loosening his tie as he watched you cower under your sheets. “I said you had to do those chores,” Logan suddenly ripped the blankets off you and you gasped softly, watching him with big, nervous eyes. “And then, to make matters worse, you sneak your little boyfriend into my apartment.” You can feel his eyes roaming over your practically naked body with his rage-filled eyes and you fold your arms shyly over yourself. “What the hell were you planning on doing in my apartment?” He suddenly grabbed your jaw tightly in his hand, squeezing your cheeks together and getting really close to your face.
You moisten your lips, stammering nervously, eyes welling with tears. “I-I-we weren’t-Uncle Logan,” You pouted, your bottom lip quivering as a tear slid down your cheek. “I promise, I wasn’t going to do anything with him. I-I’m still a virgin.”
Logan stares at you for a moment, he knows you’re telling the truth, but you still need to be punished and you look so adorable in your little tank top and matching panties. You’re a weak man, he thinks to himself as he gives in to his filthy urges. “Still a virgin, huh?” He asks, his hand leaving your jaw, knuckles tracing down your chest to your mound. With one hand, he pushes your knees apart and he feels the wet spot on the crotch of your panties. You shudder as your pussy clenches around nothing, and he feels it. “You like to play with that boy’s head, don’t you?”
You swallow hard, scared to breathe as he is so gentle with his touch, you don’t want to deter him. “I don’t do it to be mean.” You murmur, watching his index finger with which he draws small circles over your clit. You’re biting your lip painfully hard, chest heaving, gripping tightly onto the bedsheets as he watches with amusement. You’re definitely a virgin. He can smell you, your arousal, the dampness of your panties giving away just how close you previously were to reaching an orgasm.
“Sounds like you need a taste of your own medicine.”He says decidedly as he rests a knee onto the mattress and drags you to the end of it. His hands guide your thighs around his waist and he leans one hand on the bed while the other thumbs your clit slowly over your thin panties. Your eyes roll back into your head at the pressure, the filthy feeling of being touched by your uncle. He’s not your uncle, you think to yourself as you begin to enjoy it. Your thighs lock onto him, your eyebrows scrunch together as you stare up at him with your mouth agape. His lips hover over yours, not kissing you, not even attempting to as you pant quietly against his mouth, moaning lewdly underneath his large frame. You’re gripping tightly onto the edge of the mattress, tears welling in your eyes as Logan watches you nearly come undone below him and then he stops.
That famous pout forms on your lips again and a few tears roll down your cheek as you say, “Please don’t stop, Uncle Logan.” You plead, your little body shaking as he moves your panties to the side, looking at the most private part of your body in a most intimate way.
“You’re not really in a position to call the shots.” He said, focused on your cunt as it glistened from your arousal, your core pulsed in desire, and Logan wanted so badly to taste you. “I don’t know how I’m going to get you to do as you’re told.” You whined as the pads of his index and middle fingers softly caressed your clit, his lips trailing down your jaw and to your neck. “Your parents warned me you’d be a hassle, but I never imagined this behavior from you.”
“I’m sorry,” You whispered, breathing heavily as his fingers rubbed your sensitive, aching bud. His hot breath fanned over your collarbone and you wanted to feel his mouth somewhere else. “I’m so sorry, I want to be good for you.”
Logan smirked at your words as he kissed your perky breasts through your soft, thin camisole. The tip of his tongue circled around your hardened nipple, biting lightly on it through the fabric, making you whine loudly as he was being so gentle and slow and you desperately wanted him to ruin you. “You want to be good?” He asked, kneeling on the floor at the end of your bed between your thighs. You sat up on your forearms and nodded, watching him slowly pull your panties down your legs with warm cheeks. Logan stuffed your damp garment in his back pocket and he moved your thighs to rest on his shoulders. “Don’t cum.”
“Logan!” You gasped, your mouth dropping slightly as he spit on your cunt and rubbed his saliva onto your clit, watching you grow desperate the more he touched you. His other hand pressed down onto your lower belly, pinning you to the bed so you couldn’t wriggle away from him as you became overwhelmed with the tension of an oncoming release. “Please, I need to cum! Please, please!”
“No.”
Your eyes welled with fresh, hot tears and you sobbed as your held onto the tension, forcing yourself to resist the tantalizing pull of pleasure. “You’re so mean!” You complained as you fell back onto the bed, covering your face with your hands as you cried.
Logan only chuckled as he continued toying with your clit, breathing heavily against your sopping folds. The air of his breath made your cunt clench with want and the smell of your arousal was driving him crazy with lust. Logan would always hold out longer than you, however. “Punishments are supposed to be mean, sweet girl. You know you deserve it.”
“Uncle Logan,” You moaned, one hand tentatively tangling in his hair as you sat back up on your elbow. “I was thinking about you when I was with him.” You told him, breathless and aching for more. Logan’s fingers stopped moving and he looked at you with a darkness veiling his eyes. “I want you to be my first.”
No, she’s your niece, he thought to himself. She’s basically your niece, it’s wrong. “Don’t do that.” He said, his index finger tracing the rim of your core, pushing in slowly to feel at your gummy walls. “You don’t want that.”
“It’s true,” Your other hand grabbed onto his hair as well, and you sat up to press your lips to his mouth. The scratch of his beard against your chin made you moan and he kissed you back, one hand on the side of your neck as his fingers continued feeling their way into your tight core, twisting slowly to stretch you gently. “Uncle Logan, I want you to fuck me.” You mewled as you pulled him over you, lying back with his large frame hovering above you as he continued finger fucking you. His tongue intertwined with yours, grunting against your kiss as you whined for him and pushed your trembling little frame into him. His fingers were quickly coated in the creamy, white sheen of your arousal, the juices threatening to spill out of you while you whimpered against his lips, desperately grinding into his hand. “Please, please, please!” You begged, burying your face in his chest as you were, once again, so close.
“Are you on birth control?” Logan suddenly found himself asking, hoping you’d say yes, and lightly clicking his tongue when you shyly shake your head. “Then I can’t fuck you, baby.” His fingers leave your warm, sopping cunt before you reach a release for the third time and you cry softly, covering your face again as he keeps your thighs spread apart so he can spit on your abused hole, cruelly rubbing his saliva into your clit one last time.
“Please, I wanna cum so bad.” You whimpered as he pulled the sheets back over you and licked his fingers clean off.
“Maybe if you followed directions the first time you wouldn’t feel so unsatisfied now.” He said in a harsh tone as he adjusted the hard shaft in his pants while looking at you lying breathless and annoyed in your bed. “Only good girls get rewarded, sweetheart.”
You were left alone in your bedroom, quietly trying to get yourself back to the brink of orgasm while Logan stood on the other side of your door, listening intently to your muffled moans and gasps as he stroked himself with your panties around his cock. His cum stained the lace fabric as he heard you whisper his name in pleasure, whining at the thought of him, and he grunted quietly with his release. They’re ruined, you wouldn’t want them back, he told himself as he kept your underwear and slept with it balled up in his hand the whole night.
🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃
Uncle Logan III
Uncle Logan Epilogue
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